Author's Note; So it seems I owe twenty plus people a good explanation for this horrible delay, and I'm happy to state that I have MORE than one good excuse for you.
1) Exams happened. Exams are very important. And ours lasted two weeks.
2) This was a tough chapter to write. Don't get me wrong, Foaly is my equestrian hero, but his bits were the most troublesome by far. It took me ages to compose the centerpiece of this chapter. I do hope it fulfills its intended purpose of giving you chills, dear reader.
3) I'm just getting used to typing on a computer again. I used to be able to go on without looking at the keyboard, but my skills have become…rusty. Unused for ages now. I've taken a break from touch.
4) I've started rewriting the TCSB rewrite- AGAIN. I was twelve when I first posted it on here, and 11 when I actually plotted the whole thing out, but my 14 year old self is a bit obsessive, you see…I have this incredible urge to edit EVERYTHING. But you guys are supportive and overlook my clichés and OOC moments…and for that I am very grateful, so here I am promising you this fanfic that WILL live up to your expectations. Love you all so much. Special mention must be made of Courage and Love, Gespenter, AFantasyDaydreamer, Guest (leave a name next time!), Saturn, Elisarah and Bravemaridin for reviewing the previous chapter, It means such a lot to me especially with lengthy chapters like these.
Disclaimer; AF is the property of one Mr Eoin Colfer.
Enjoy!
—•:;*"~€—
CHAPTER SEVEN: LIVE SUBJECT
Holly felt a gentle rocking under head, and that made her feel all the more inclined to sleep. Last thing she remembered, she'd fallen asleep after a few unsuccessful shots of caffeine after a whole night exchanging stories with a certain arrogant little Mud Brat…
Man. Whatever.
She decided, once she woke up, she was going to whack him in the jaw just like she had yesterday…wow, the real world felt like ages ago now. Wait. The real world?
Holly creaked an eye open.
Then where was she now?
It was clear; this was still the garden, she was still on the same bench, the one that rocked ever so slightly like a hammock in the puffs of breeze…
"Sleeping on duty now, are we Captain Short?"
"It's Major," corrected Holly automatically, seconds before registering to whom the voice belonged. She immediately shot her eyes open after that.
Artemis was leaning over to peer at her, a smug expression on his face.
She frowned, trying to place why. She quickly ran her fingers over her face- no, the problem wasn't there. What did he have to look so victorious about? Had she said something?
Then it all crashed into her with the force of machine gun fire.
The night before, the flowers…the Fronddamn flowers!
She put on her fiercest scowl, and she meant it. "It was nothing."
Artemis sighed in mock disappointment. "Really, Major, one would normally take a passionate confession to a Mud Man as little more than nothing."
"Passionate-!" spat Holly, sitting up straight now. "It was the D'Arvitted flowers in your bloody garden that…that scent that just…" She stopped, and her voice dipped to dangerous depths. "Are you sure you didn't plan this somehow, Fowl?"
Artemis shrugged. "I believe you're the one who owes me an explanation, Holly."
The elf crossed her arms, the humiliation of the whole thing finally catching up to her complexion. "Really."
The human make a dismissive gesture with a flick of his wrist, but the look on his face meant that she wouldn't be forgetting her little slip-up for as long as she lived. "Ah, drop it, Captain. I wouldn't be convinced of your innocence whichever way you put it."
Holly was internally fuming, but instead of digging her own grave a little deeper she said, "Where's my mother?"
Artemis jabbed a finger in an ill-defined direction. "Waiting for a word with you. Apparently she heard us last night."
So much for precaution.
This time the elf just made sure her scowl conveyed a message. "I do not want anything to do with you, Fowl, not unless it's essential to the Fairy race, and not along those lines anyway." She swung her legs over the side of the hammock. "So if you'll excuse me…"
Artemis stood his ground, unwilling to let her leave without suffering his presence a few minutes longer.
"About the flowers, Captain."
Holly sighed. "I said I'd kill you later, didn't I?"
"The flowers did nothing," said the human simply, trying in vain to subdue his smug expression. "I believe they are a tactic crafted and handed down by generations of your ancestors, some of whom have been recorded in human mythology as miracle-workers or deities. Your great grandfather, who I believe us Mud Men are familiar with as Cupid, came up with that particular trick, as your mother told me. The scent is an intoxicant, yes, and interestingly will substitute as a…shall we say, truth serum-"
"Get out of my hair," growled the elf, swinging to get out over the other side. Feeling unusually lagged, she took several difficult steps, but deliberately so, in the other direction without sparing another glance at the arrogant Mud Man.
A few yards further and Holly again met the one person she'd expected never to see again—real world, yeah right. As far as she was concerned, this was the real world, she was happy, and she didn't plan on leaving it for Ethos if given the choice.
…
Gilemo was a strange sort of town, messily spread out in a valley below several overwhelming sand dunes. It was as if the whiffs of time had been particularly favourable on the town itself, though; while it looked remote and admittedly dusty and dull from the top of the dunes at daytime, at night the town dropped its veil of old age and turned into a festival of bright and plentiful lighting, a new-age feature that came across to the casual observer as unbelievable. The townsfolk were for the most part poor people, but the town itself earned an income and a name as a tourist rest- thus also equipped with a handful of coffee stops, plentiful clusters of souvenir stalls and its own open-air amphitheater that even Artemis had to admit was impressive, at least according to the exaggerated tales of the locals.
Artemis and Mulch met the other half of their team in one such coffee stop at an early hour of the day; while not an altogether dingy establishment, the glass was yellowed and spoilt with posters, and the Sprite waiter hovered enough to be bent against the ceiling.
He did not dare even take in the scent of his black coffee when it arrived. Spotting the submerged fungal growth was enough.
"How's Holly?" asked Caleb, after a brief greeting. "Is she conscious yet?"
Artemis shook his head. "No, but there is...at least I hope it is, development."
Caleb shot his bodyguard a worried glance before he wearily inquired, "Talking?"
"Talking, yes."
"Depends on what she said."
Artemis frowned. He was not about to disclose this truth...for the sake of more people than himself. "The words weren't all that clear, actually. Does it really matter what she said?"
"Sorta," Caleb sniffed his own coffee and came out green. "Ugh-well,if she said something like Let me out of here, Koboi! –which I've actually heard from someone before, by the way– it means she's fighting it and she'll soon be back with us, cut off from Ethos until the next Freak works its magic."
"And if she was, say, casually talking to someone else?"
"Then it means she's starting to believe it's real and it'll be harder to let go of Ethos," said Caleb. "For some people, Ethos tries attracting them to the place, making them want to stay. And it's only when it's too late that the facade falls apart and they see the real thing. Please don't tell me that's what happened?"
"I think it is," muttered Artemis. "Is there nothing we can do to help?"
"Yes," said Zone gravelly. "Find the keys and get the serum."
Mulch raised an eyebrow. "So we aren't going to have her around? Bummer."
"She would certainly be an asset," agreed Artemis. "But if it's the only thing we can do, we might as well continue the mission without her. We'll have to send her back to your town. It'll guarantee her safety, but isn't going to impact our journey well. It means no advantages of fairy healing and one less fighter."
"Like I said. Bummer."
Artemis shook his head. "Let's continue. A successful mission will mean we can recover Holly. We're going to have to locate this statue and..."
"And the fairy magic we need to shrink it?" asked Caleb miserably.
"I've got that covered," said Artemis, but he didn't elaborate despite earning a few questioning glances. Everyone, after all, considered black magic a very dangerous gift.
••–
Haven City.
Foaly wasn't used to being in the middle of the action. Well, he was always in the middle of the action, but it was usually through communications and providing essential advice from the safety of his beloved Ops Booth. He was present with the soldiers in spirit. In body, however, he usually wasn't, and it wasn't even in his job description, and now he finally knew what Holly and Julius had to go through almost every day of their careers.
Except he was downright terrified of the troll smashing several barrels of oil over the building right now, and at the alarming rate at which the fire was spreading.
The troll screeched at the air and grabbed its own dreadlocks with massive, razor-sharp talons, looking like it had utterly lost its mind. Its hairs were starting to catch fire but it didn't run. It stayed on the spot, on the roof of the burning building, howling as if something else, something worse than the fire was attacking it.
"On my mark!" barked Trouble, holding one of Foaly's state-of-the-art tranquilizer guns over his shoulder. He was currently standing on the roof of a squad van for the essential height, but he could have hurried a little in his aiming.
Several dart guns aimed at the troll at once. Foaly had told them a stray shot could explode another one of the oil tanks loaded onto the roof. They couldn't miss their target.
Said target wasn't easy. The troll trashed about, kicking in the flames, swinging its shaggy arms in crazed circles, hitting several other tanks in the process and threatening another explosion, even more flames. Trolls weren't the brightest creatures but for one to be behaving this way–
Foaly was actually standing a distance away from the action, but he saw it all, and an image flashed in his mind.
The fairies yesterday, how they'd reacted to Opal's monster.
His eyes widened at the maddened troll.
The scene of action was, as usual, crowded. Press. Curious fairies with a death wish. Sensible ones scurrying as far away from it as possible and, needless to say, traffic. Lots of traffic. Too many lives. There were too many innocent lives around here.
Evacuate, thought Foaly. We need to evacuate before it turns up.
"Vinyayà!" he shouted, making a mad dash for the elf who was currently trying her level best to keep back the cameras and curious break-necks. "It's Koboi! It's another one of Koboi's–"
Another gas tank exploded. The flames engulfed the troll completely.
"What?"
"Koboi's...creature..."
Speak of the devil and he turns up. It was at that exact moment that a loud, painful ringing broke out in their ears, spread across the city and the people like the shockwaves of some explosion. Everything faded but the sound. The sight, the touch, the senses...and all the cries of pain and crumpling of figures to the hard pavements squeezed out of existence completely.
Foaly didn't know what happened. To the throngs of ordinary fairies or Trouble's squad. His world didn't make sense to him anymore. He wanted to just pass out, give in, let Koboi's damn monster take him for all he cared because...because...
Holly's gone. Root's gone. There's no point in fighting anymore.
It made perfect sense, so he found himself relenting. Surrendering. Admitting that Opal Koboi had outsmarted him and this scheme of hers wasn't going to fail...
Vinyayà shouted something directly in his ear. How was she still on her feet? Oh well, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.
Opal Koboi, Empress of the World.
Hail Opal, thought Foaly bitterly, as even the blurry images of the flames, the comatose fairies and Vinyayà's yelling all turned into a pitch black abyss of nothingness.
.
Wing Commander Raine Vinyayà paced the corridors with a look of pure hatred on her face. Koboi. Koboi. A total of fifty six comatose fairies because of Koboi, two LEP squadrons included. Foaly knocked out again. She didn't know how or why she was still awake, but she swore to herself that it was a mistake Koboi would regret for the rest of her painful and eternal imprisonment sentence in Howler's Peak.
Argon's clinic was full now and the LEP was paying the bill. Another contributing factor.
Vinyayà held back a frustrated shout. This was not the time or place. This was a bloody clinic, for heaven's sake, where fifty six rooms were occupied by mysteriously unconscious fairies.
A female Sprite attendant tittered over to her nervously.
"Eh, Wing Commander, Mr. Foaly is awake, but it's advisable to wait–"
"Which ward?" cut in Vinyayà.
The Sprite went pale. "104."
"Thanks."
"Y-You can't–"
"LEP," said the elf, flashing her badge for less than half a second before she started walking sturdily in search of the ward.
Vinyayà didn't even bother knocking, and the door wasn't even locked. She just walked inside and started talking.
"Foaly, two squadrons are down including Major Kelp's. The Council has officially announced that it's a Koboi crisis and HQ is in lockdown."
"W-Who's...Acting Commander?" wheezed Foaly, clearly not in the state to function.
"Me," said Vinyayà tonelessly. "Like I said, HQ is in lockdown to keep our people safe until we know our enemy and are prepared for them. The media is issuing an official public warning to stay indoors and not go to work. This is a serious situation, Foaly, and we need you to think."
Foaly groggily sat up in the bed made for centaurs. The Clinic, he knew, was charging a premium on the LEP just for his special ward. "Commander, it's kind of difficult to think," he admitted. "Look, I heard that noise and blacked out, and when I black out I find myself in this..." He couldn't hold back a shiver. "Weird place. That's where the others are. I know. I saw them."
Vinyayà frowned. "So everyone who's in a coma right now?"
"Trapped in there, yes. I don't know how I managed to escape. I don't know how you never got affected in the first place."
"I was thinking the same thing."
"Unless," Foaly rubbed his forehead. Thinking was getting exceedingly difficult. "Is there any kind of...uncommon drug you're taking? Some sort of vaccine that not everyone has? It could be the reason you're completely immune..."
Vinyayà drummed her fingers on the tabletop. "No. Nothing like that."
"Are you sure?"
The elf sighed, closing her eyes, relenting. "It's not something I take often, but..."
"Please, this is the fate of fairykind here."
"Alright. A non-prescription painkiller that's damn expensive," said Vinyayà. "It's a threat to a fairy's system anyway. Not completely legal."
Foaly sighed under the spell of the drugs he'd been administered. "We're all a little above the law, Wing Commander."
Vinyayà waved this off with a dismissive hand. "It doesn't matter. I'm fine I was above the law if it's going to help us resist Koboi, so I want you to test the drug and tell us for sure. That's an order."
Foaly groaned. "Really? My mind just took a beating and admitted that Koboi outsmarted me..."
Vinyaya gave him a pointed look. "Does it look like you have the luxury of choice?"
"No. Not really."
"Get up. We can't be paying your bills for longer."
•
"Commander...what in Frond's name am I looking at?"
This came in unnaturally collected tones from Foaly, whose face gave an altogether opposite impression of his mood, having had turned a bleached complexion in sharp contrast to the soft grey interior of the lab's viewing booth.
Vinyayà rapped on the wide screen that overlooked the entirety of the vast white hall of long tables and glass boxes, a group of panicked (excited?) bio-nerds (as the rest of the LEP called their expensive biology unit, which had been established only with the funds of the Haven Science Society, and while technically not LEP property or even located in the same building, considered Foaly a distinguished member even though biology was technically not even his area) gathered like ants around one specific cage, one large and strong enough to hold a troll, but even from this distance both Commander and centaur could bet their lives that the thing was not a troll or even a buck demon.
"I could ask the same question," murmured Vinyayà, rapping the screen again out of sheer agitation. "I told them to sedate it but not to transfer it in case-"
"No, Commander," cut in Foaly dryly. "I mean what that thing is even doing here and how for all the D'Arvits in the world you managed to capture it."
Vinyayà fumed, knocking against the glass with her knuckles again as if it would solve anything. "Don't call me Commander, Foaly. I'd prefer you address me by my real rank, however long that is."
Foaly whinnied. "Fine, Wing Commander, would you mind giving me some details?"
"The thing got caught under some rubble," explained the elf, crossing her arms and staring further into the scene below. "It was out cold for sure, but some civilians reported the discovery and I had a team sent there with sedatives at once. So yes, the creature isn't a threat for the time being, because some of the HSS members were at Police Plaza to administer right doses."
Foaly couldn't resist a dramatic sigh. "Twenty four hours without me, and everything falls apart."
Vinyayà snorted. "Yes, Foaly, we're glad to have you back, even if the HSS did offer their services free of charge..."
"I'm here, aren't I?" said Foaly hurriedly.
Vinyayà nodded firmly. "Get to work, and give us results soon."
"Your wish is my command, Wing Commander," said Foaly seriously, even though he sneaked a little bit of smug awareness into the title; Vinyayà, on his hypothesis, was only opposed to the use of the address Commander on account of the fact that she had indeed not forgotten the elf to whom the rank actually belonged; and while no one else had, either, coming from the Wing Commander this was a statement that brought him one step closer to winning the office betting pool.
.
Foaly made his way through the crowd of bio-nerds just as a child would a garden of butterflies; eager to reach that one important specimen, but unwilling to damage the rest. So he carefully batted them aside, not taking full advantage of his hind legs, and arrived through the sea of so-called butterflies to find himself confronted with undeniably the most important specimen of the lot.
Koboi's creature.
From a distance Foaly had experienced that the thing could send shivers rattling his spine and prick goosebumps into his skin, but up close now, actually staring into its irisless whites and hollow cheeks, being close to touching the sunken creases and the gnarled cartilage that caved into the gap between its visible ribcages and its strong jaws with shark-like teeth...
The creature was shackled, humanoid figure bound tightly above its head as it hung upside down behind a wide glass screen.
The thing was out cold, but Foaly took a step back.
"Dear Frond," he murmured, more to reassure his startled pulse than anything else. "What is that thing? And where did it come from?"
The primitive chattering of the HSS workers died down as the centaur's presence was first really felt, and most of them suddenly wore professional facades as though awaiting orders. Despite Vinyaya's threat to exclude him in the proceedings, it appeared as though the bio-nerds were under orders to heed his every word. Good. He was going to need some extra hands.
"What are the tests you've run so far?" He put as much authority into his tone as he could muster, firmly refusing to succumb to the fear he still felt beside the sedated creature.
A scraggly brown-haired young elf, with colourful smears across the front of his lab coat stepped up from the crowd to answer. "Everything we got, sir. Cross-references with known species, habitats, evolutionary relationships-"
"And did that work?" asked Folay impatiently.
"No," admitted the worker dejectedly.
"Run them again," said the centaur. "But if nothing worthwhile turns up, leave it. It's not going to help us anyway. This creature is not from around here."
"If it were a genetic mutation, sir…"
"A deliberate genetic mutation," corrected Foaly. "Check, but I doubt you'll find much. This sort of thing, especially if Koboi orchestrated it, would prove difficult to crack under ordinary tests. You won't find any weaknesses, believe me. Take some guys to work out the biology."
The elf nodded eagerly before leading away a crew of childishly excited volunteers to a far corner of the theatre.
"And I'll handle the magic," muttered Foaly, grabbing an empty syringe off a tabletop. "It was useless asleep, correct?"
A few nervous butterflies nodded.
Without waiting for objections, Foaly headed for the cage and flicked a heavy switch on its door. A portion of the glass slid aside, and the containment gases made an angry hissing noise as they flowed to the outside.
One especially bold fellow close to the centaur's hindquarters raised an urgent concern meekly. "Sir, its magic is capable of inducing comas…"
Foaly tossed him the syringe.
"Get me your strongest caffeine shot," he ordered. "And anyone knows a pharmacy?"
.
Grub Kelp was not your best bet at coming out as Hero of the Month, but the whiny little elf did have his moments…occasionally. It depended on who you asked, because that depended on how convinced they were that Grub's older brother would have his revenge if he got wind of his sibling being called a coward. It was wholly another matter that Trouble would not normally bat an eyelid for said sibling's honour. But Grub stated, and felt, otherwise. He had taken on the Mud Man Butler during the Fowl siege, for Frond's sake, and lived to tell the tale! And as Butler had taken down a troll, if you worked out the axiom, Grub Kelp could technically brave a troll any day as well. A pity, though, that few seemed to appreciate this fact, and a greater pity that few of that lot were ladies. Grub could've done with some popularity among the ladies.
But none of these tidbits were relevant, as of now; all he could do at the moment was stare at his brother's comatose form and hope and pray that Mommy wouldn't blame him for it.
Alright, if he was being honest with himself, concern over his own safety was not the only concern he felt. Whatever else Trouble Kelp had been to him, he was still family; and if you squinted really hard to read between the lines, he wasn't all that bad as a big brother.
Wherever you are right now, thought Grub absently.
He certainly hoped Trouble would wake up before Mommy noticed.
The junior officer spent entire minutes lamenting on this, staring mindlessly at his brother's face, the clock on the wall and the unused bag of IV fluid hanging on a hook at a distance. He was completely engrossed in his thoughts and concerns to an extent that, when someone merely knocked then pushed open the door from outside, he jumped in his seat and felt his pulse skyrocket.
"M-Major!" he stuttered, hurrying to his feet and lifting his fingers up in a shaky salute. Well, he thought defensively, it wasn't as though he'd been expecting that.
Vein looked deadly serious for some reason, Grub observed. Not that he didn't always look like that. "I apologize for the intrusion, Corporal, but I have an immediate assignment for you."
Grub considered this. He could file a complaint about nearly getting a heart attack, or he could stay in his chief officer's good books by just accepting the assignment, whatever it was.
"I'm giving you a choice in this one," muttered Vein, which was surprising, because Grub was never given a choice, but the look on his face was scary enough to deter any questioning. "It's about Major Kelp."
Grub looked at his brother, alarmed. What had he done to deserve an assignment Trouble would've taken usually? It was not fair. He was a Junior. He could get killed in that sort of assignment.
"W-What do I have to do?"
"Visit Foaly."
Grub heaved a relieved sigh. Oh, that was all. He could handle that. Had the Junior officer been in possession of just a little more general intuition, though, he would've figured he wasn't being asked to visit Foaly for nothing.
He secretly hoped, however, that this assignment would not somehow put his infamous bravery to the test.
…
And he turned out to be completely, utterly and unfortunately, very, very terribly wrong.
Grub's initial reaction had been a yelp. Almost immediately afterwards his blood had turned cold, his knees had started to shake and he'd nearly passed out because of the asphyxiation that followed. It was only Foaly's firm slap in the face that kept him conscious.
"M-Mommy!" shrieked Grub, his eyes popping to the size of saucers in a reflex reaction to the slap.
Foaly rolled his eyes. "I can understand your fear, Corporal, but for Frond's sake, show a little backbone. I wanted you for this assignment because I thought you'd want to do something for Trouble."
The Corporal blinked rapidly, unnoticing of the flocks of bio-nerds staring curiously at him. "Trubs?"
Foaly spun him around to face the shackled beast. Grub flinched again, and almost wailed.
"But-!"
"Do you want to help or not?" asked the centaur dangerously. "Haven help me, Corporal, but I will kick you straight out of here if you waste another second sniveling."
Grub sniffed, but he turned away from the nightmarish creature in its cage. And in what was admittedly an incredible show of bravery, soon mumbled the word "Fine."
Even Foaly had to rear back in surprise. "Really?"
"Yes," squeaked the Corporal. "For Trubs. But, er, what do I have to do?"
Batting away some excitedly chattering HSS lab pixies, Foaly headed to what had become his temporary work desk and produced an unlabeled card of tablets. Grub stuck out his lower lip.
"Mommy's told us never to take unlabeled—"
"I'm going to kick you."
"I'll take it!"
Foaly snorted humourlessly. "This is the safest part of the plan."
Grub looked ready to bolt out of the lab, so on Foaly's order a bunch of elves hurriedly barricaded the only door with their bodies.
The Junior whimpered. "I didn't sign up for this."
"Unfortunately," Foaly galloped over to the cage and found the heavy switch. "You never had a choice in the first place."
Minutes later, Grub was watching helplessly as the containment gases hissed and, amidst blaring sirens and red warning lights, the glass doors shut close once again. Except this time the cage had two occupants.
The thing was breathing, Grub could see that. Its eyes lacked lids, lenses and irises, but he could feel them almost drilling into his soul. Trying, anyway. Grub Kelp was brave, so no ugly second-rate troll was going to…
The creature emitted a hollow moan, and Grub jumped. He swallowed. Okay, so the thing wasn't just alive, it was awake. He looked over at Foaly pleadingly, but the gases had misted over the glass walls and all he could make out were the distinct shapes of the centaur and his assistants.
Grub's eyes haplessly flickered back to his fate. The creature was staring right at him, its wrinkled chest making ever-so-slight heaves. He noted for the first time the truly harrowing nature of its body; gnarled at the midriff, very much akin to a graveyard tree sucked of all its nutrients centuries before. The creature had strong legs, humanoid, but ending in disproportionate black talons that, even from its suspended position, managed to touch the ground.
"It's tied up," whimpered Grub, in an attempt to reassure himself. It didn't work. So instead, he braved the creature directly and proclaimed a little louder, "You're tied up!"
The creature sucked in a breath through its nostrils, thinning its shriveled skin further. The breath was never released. Apparently it needed that bit of air to start humming.
His blood ran cold all over again. The low sound plunged to impossible depths, yet piercing his eardrums and starting an echoing ring inside his head…a ring that hit him hard enough to elicit the response of trembling knees and ultimately a collapse altogether.
An image flashed across his mind. Just for a second, it couldn't have been longer than that. But he felt as though he'd landed on the lifeless earth of Ethos rather than the white tiles of the cage, and where he should've heard Foaly and the lab rats' shouts his ears caught the agony of the cursed, the eternally lost…
Grub shot to his feet and took up a defensive stance, albeit trembling at every inch, but the change of scene was gone. The creature was still shackled before him. It was breathing, but it wasn't working. It was simply alive, like it had been minutes before.
The containment gases hissed a second time in protest as the doors buzzed open hurriedly- not fast enough, Grub felt. Foaly batted aside an assistant who advised a plague mask and was immediately at his side, sprouting questions and rambling on about some fact or the other. In his mentally beaten state, Grub only managed to catch the words "willpower" and "definitive solution". He managed an unintelligible snort. He'd had enough willpower for a lifetime, thank you.
''
Foaly caught up to Vinyayà even though it took him near a gallop to match her normal pace of walking.
"I tested it," he panted.
"And?"
"And we have a possible breakthrough, but it's very harmful to the average fairy's system. We can't distribute the drugs to citizens. Our best chance is keeping them away from the action."
Vinyayà stopped her fast walking and gave him a scrutinizing look. "Are you absolutely sure?"
"A hundred percent. We can use it on our squads, but not often. Only when there's an attack," Foaly found to his relief that he had caught his breath by now, so he proceeded to talk normally. "But Opal is not to be underestimated. She probably knows what makes immunity, and she's probably working on it. We won't have this leverage for long."
Vinyayà clenched a fist. "I want that pixie to show her face," she scowled, but nodded at the centaur. "Announce this to the people who need to know. We've already lost Root, Short and Kelp, and we might not win this one if we lose any more."
"There are new squad leaders?"
"Bigger squads. Ash Vein's and Captain Newt's are to be doubled. I want them both scourging every inch of Haven City on patrol. Can you spread the word, Foaly?"
Foaly nodded, if a little nervously. "Wing Commander, how about…"
"Someone needs to make a public statement," answered the elf. "I'll handle the press. I don't want to be remembered as a leader who chickened out at a time like this."
"If I may, Wing Commander…you're starting to sound a little like ol' Julius."
A smile twitched at Vinyaya's lips, but it didn't show itself eventually. "Observant, centaur. We have no time to waste."
Foaly resisted the urge to grin and/or roll his eyes, before he turned to make his way to the main COMs system of Police Plaza.
••
The suburbs. Haven City.
They had been best friends for as long as they could remember. They were always together, up to activities their parents adoringly dubbed as mischief, and it also had to do with the fact that they were close neighbours. Casa and Niki had an ages long tradition of spending their entire weekends in a large treehouse build especially for the purpose. They belonged to one of those well-off families who could afford a plot of land for a whole variety of the biologically altered trees that grew for the fairy population underground. Calling it merely a plot of land, in Casa's case, was like calling the Big Ben big. Her front yard that hosted several tall trees and the treehouse was a widespread area large enough to be considered a forest all on its own, so much so that the boundaries couldn't even be seen unless you walked along them.
The best friends were flipping through a pile of colourful society magazines and passing comments at the weird ones. A perfectly normal, fun pastime for kids.
"And Skylar Peat," squealed Casa, somewhat forcibly showing the image to Niki. "She's sooo pretty. She hasn't even had surgery, she's actually that tall!"
"Uh huh," acknowledged Niki, who was more interested in a column about wing designs. Needless to say hers wasn't a society magazine.
Casa pouted. "She's acting as Holly Short in the new movie." It was a ruse that would certainly grab her friend's attention, and it did; Niki immediately grabbed the magazine to look at it.
"Bleugh," she sounded strangled. "How can she act as LEP? I'm starting a petition against this."
Casa looked offended. "She's pretty!"
"That's all she is. She doesn't even look fit. It's like she has a complicated healthy diet and no exercise."
"Whatever," Casa withdrew her magazine. "Honestly, something tells me that you're going to end up doing some job meant for guys."
"That's remarkably anti-feminist for you to say."
"You honestly want to spend your days chasing goblins and trolls?"
"What if I do?" protested Niki. "Better than the fashion runway, right? Service to the people."
"Dangerous and stupid."
"I know you care about my health and all but ugh, you're like Mum," Niki rolled her eyes and went back to her Impactology magazine. "Anyway, did you hear about that weird attack yesterday?"
"Ooh. Tell me."
"Don't you ever watch the news?"
"Haven High goes at the same time," Casa excused herself. "So what happened?"
"Well, there was apparently this weird creature. It could use the Mesmer or something."
"Whaaat?"
"Yeah, it just made this sound like–"
A loud ring reverberated in their ears. Casa winced.
"Ouch."
Niki frowned. "Wait, I didn't–"
The sound came again, piercing the insides of her ears in what felt like a painful twist of the sounds in the normal environment, and the ringing repeated, hitting higher notes each time.
She struggled to her feet, palms pressed tightly against her ears, but tears were stinging in her eyes and she couldn't make out the world around her.
Niki leaned against the open window, and every limb felt weak. Her squirming vision barely caught sight of the more obvious things like the ground of fallen leaves, so the...the massive figure that stood motionless directly below the treehouse...
One word came to mind. Her best friend's name. What had happened? Where was she?
Niki's eyes found the right thing, but it was too late. Casa had rolled to the floor, chin pointed upwards and eyes limply closed. She was breathing, but something...wasn't right.
Then Niki gave up. She was just some little kid with impossible dreams. She could never join the LEP. They would never take her. She certainly couldn't...fight...that thing...
I'm useless.
Why stick in this realm any longer?
Niki's knees buckled beneath her and, before she knew it, she was unconscious, softly, barely breathing beside her comatose friend.
•
Marine Research Facility, edge of the Dome.
Atlantis.
Brent Olio had just finished another stressful voyage down to depths in search of an alleged miracle fungi that supposedly grew on the sea bed. Despite the new technology they'd got with the expanded budget, nobody in his team had managed to go that far down. It was risky, and it was frankly terrifying. Brent cared for his life more than a miracle fungi that probably didn't even exist.
Walking on the rim of the outermost Dome, he approached the city gates. While the officials would welcome him with the states of experienced security personnel, his superiors would certainly make him feel a lot worse. Also the fact that he was head of his team and he'd been the one to call the mission off, so he was in this alone.
"Research," he told the guard tiredly, as the other water Sprite scrutinized his toolkit. Firearms weren't allowed in pro Atlantis, so this precaution was always taken. Too much of heat radiated could damage the main Dome that protected the city.
He was eventually allowed in through throngs of transit passengers making their way past him to the inner Dome. Brent had no business there. He took a left turn to where his workplace was; and braced himself.
The other Sprites in his team had long since deserted him and opted to their rightful lunch break– if he got fired, Brent realized, this was the last lunch break he would have. And he already hated lunchtime anyway. His stomach was growling.
Captain Fern did not look happy upon seeing him.
"Empty-handed," growled Fern, who had a habit of talking two words at a time.
"Yessir. Sorry sir," said Brent, sounding as inferior as he could. Fern liked that kind of attitude from the people who worked for him.
"Second day," reminded the Captain.
"It was particularly difficult, sir," Brent gulped. "We need to get used to the new tech."
"New tech," repeated Fern, his eyes shifting over to the transparent ceiling of the facility.
Brent didn't follow his gaze despite being naturally curious. He continued to look at his feet humbly and with as much guilt as he could muster.
"Yessir. The new oxygen tanks. But if we were allowed a few practice dives..."
"Practice dive," murmured Fern, his voice growing distant. "Yes, practice..."
Brent frowned. "Sir?"
"New tech...practice dive..." Fern seemed transfixed on the ceiling. Deciding it didn't matter how, Brent cast his glance upwards.
He nearly screamed.
There, through the ceiling, he could see the Dome above them...cracking. It was a tiny crack, minuscule, and Fern would have only seen it because the ceiling was directly above them, but...
An elf pointed at it and yelled something. Then all hell broke loose.
All ten emergency sirens in the building went off at once, scattering bright flashes of red light across the floor. There was screaming, there was frantic running, the facility turned into a holding cell for panicked creatures on a stampede. Impossible crowds of fairies clustered at the exits, pushing, scrambling, trying to escape the fate that would await them otherwise.
Brent didn't do any of it. He couldn't. He was too much in a state of shock. He couldn't even hear the blaring sirens of warning.
"S-Sir," he stammered.
"Dome..." mumbled Fern, before he succumbed to his shock and passed out. Brent could only stare at his superior in utter horror. Was this how it was going to end? Were they both going to get crushed under the pressure of the depths when the Dome gave way?
He watched the rest of the fairies. Some had managed to get out. But the crowd getting accumulated at the mouth of the exit was helping no one.
Why was the Dome cracking?
Fate presented him with a quick answer.
Sound.
Very, very loud sound.
There were hundreds of them. Alien invaders. Or whatever they actually were. They were producing the sound. They were spread across the rim and making their way to the interior of Atlantis.
Brent hated the sound. He couldn't stand it. He really couldn't.
The last thing he managed to do was press an emergency dial on his phone before he was driven completely senseless, and he tripped over his own feet and fell to the cold tiles of the facility, snoring.
•••
Caleb hopped down from the low roof and shook his head. "I don't see anything. According to the map it's supposed to be somewhere around here, but what if it isn't? What if Opal's beaten us to it?"
Zone didn't reply. His eyes were still quietly scanning the wide, clustered areas around them. It was difficult to see much of the buildings or streets with the amount of people who crowded them, but given his height advantage he had it easier than Caleb. The boy poked his bodyguard in the arm.
"Zone, I said what if Opal's beaten us to it? In that case we just have to move on to the next key– duude, pay attention!"
Zone politely ignored him and scanned the scene even more carefully.
"We need to cross that gate," he said. It was almost difficult to hear him.
Caleb sighed. "I don't even see a gate."
The bodyguard effortlessly lifted him onto a massive shoulder, and he instantly spotted the gate.
"Okay, I see the gate, but how do you know it's in there?"
Zone showed him the map. Caleb almost slapped himself.
"'Kay, smart. But I don't see any..." He squinted at the small lettering. "Nope, doesn't say golden statue anywhere."
"Hall of historical monuments," replied Zone quietly. "It's inside one of the buildings behind that gate. It's all one property. Used for the performing arts."
Caleb nodded. "Ooookay! We're in luck then! How hard is it to break into a museum?"
"Pretty hard."
His face fell. "OK. Right. But this is just a little town, so their security can't be that efficient. Right?"
The bodyguard didn't even respond.
Caleb rolled his eyes. "Can we at least check it out? To see if we're right?"
Zone acknowledged this with a nod, and made his way through the crowd. It wasn't very difficult considering his stature. Caleb felt like he was riding one of his flying Dolphins, because people stared at him in amazement.
He couldn't help himself.
"Make way for the Prince of Weird!"
.
Behind the gate was an area completely devoid of people, with only grey paving stones laid across the square and a large building that surrounded it. Caleb got to his own feet to walk around the area and find any unlocked doors, but it looked like the museum was pretty serious about its stuff.
Until he found a broken window and crawled through it. Zone stood outside; he couldn't enter anyway. And they preferred not to attract attention by breaking down doors.
Caleb found himself in what was a dusty but large hall that smelt strongly of its polished floorboards. He flicked on a switch and all the lights turned on. He immediately tried to amend his mistake but the switch refused to budge. Caleb winced. Hopefully nobody would notice.
He walked up the grand oaken staircase, ignoring the loudly creaking steps, and soon found himself in a large balcony that overlooked a wide circular stage and its audience of maybe five hundred seats; something glinted behind the curtains. Caleb read the massive letter engraved into the wall.
Hall of Monuments.
Yep, that was it. And if there was glinting coming from it, there was probably a huge gold statue, too. He still had to be sure. Caleb decided he'd find another entrance to the stage, or the seating, but he was greeted with an unpleasant surprise the moment he turned.
"Trespassing, little boy?" asked the man-mountain. Caleb backed away into the railing. That guy was easily about twice Zone's size.
"Er...just got lost," he replied meekly. "I mean, I'm not even from around these parts, so like..."
"Trespassers don't live," snarled the man, and lunged for him. It was so unexpected that Caleb almost flipped backwards, but an accidental reflex caused him to duck and the man missed his target. He didn't wait for another chance at luck. He ran. Down the shaky oaken staircase and into the hall– he could hear loud footsteps running behind him. Caleb liked to think it was loud because of the man's size and not his proximity.
There!
He found the window and scrambled out of it as hurriedly as a mouse would a trap, except he didn't get caught. He immediately met Zone on the other end and ran without explanation.
Which was a good thing, because the moment they were past the gates, the square filled with security.
Meanwhile
Mulch was quite happy to find that Artemis was, as usual, right.
The market did indeed present him with a lot of valuables. There was a whole section for shiny things. Mulch didn't even mind the smelly Mud Men who rudely brushed past him with baskets of fish and meat, and he didn't even mind the million odd people shopping for a million odd things. Hey, if he was right, this would only prove to be an advantage.
Mulch advanced on the shack carefully. It was a simple wooden stall that had some glamorous items on easy, within-reach display. If he couldn't pull this off he wasn't a master thief. This was going to be the easiest daylight robbery he'd ever committed.
Mulch also had the advantage of lack of height. No doubt the half-asleep Mud Man behind the stall wouldn't notice him.
Mulch squirmed his way into a useful spot. He was crouched a little just behind the table now. It was a simple matter of grabbing...
He would've been successful if he had noticed a single detail earlier; all the gold chains and gem-studded earrings had been hammered into the table with a nail holding each in place. As the nails were fixed to the table, naturally, the entire table toppled the moment snatched a couple of chains.
The commotion was so sudden that Mulch almost forgot where he was.
Several other shopkeepers shouted a warning, and the shopping crowd themselves clustered around the scene to see what it was all about. Mulch kicked the table off his frame. Ouch. That was going to hurt a while...
Unfortunately, everyone had seen him.
He didn't have time to loose. Mulch grabbed as many of the precious items as he could and made a dash for it. Angry cries followed him and he knew his feet wouldn't make it that far. Well, desperate means called for desperate measures. He managed to get past the market area and bought himself some time. As soon as he'd finished the tunnel hole, the bunch of Mud Men chasing him had found him.
Mulch couldn't hold back a smirk at the horrified looks on their faces when they realized what he was about to do.
Shrugging, and quietly praising his intelligence, Mulch let loose a flurry of toxic dwarf gas and dived into the tunnel, leaving a heap of unmentionable waste products in his wake.
.
Artemis checked the elf's forehead for a fever. Nothing. She seemed like a completely healthy, sleeping person but he knew it wasn't going to work just waking her up. Holly could leave Ethos if she wanted to. It was no doubt that the place was indeed attracting her to it.
He unconsciously wondered about what he'd heard last night. There was as much chance of Holly having had said that as there was of him merely imagining it. He had been exceedingly worn out after the journey and the hours spent in the unforgiving heat. Artemis felt more inclined to believe that he hadn't actually heard those words; all sense of logic and common sense pointed against it.
Holly still looked peacefully asleep. What was she doing in Ethos right now? Getting acquainted with a long-lost loved one? It made sense that that was the kind of imagery the disguised trap would produce.
A black spark skipped along his index finger and he subdued it. It was doubtful whether he'd ever get used to the new magic, but at least it would prove useful in shrinking the statue...perhaps even healing, although that was a risk.
Artemis closed his eyes in thought. Black magic would not do for healing anyone besides the user; however, according to fairy myth, it was a force that combatted most other magic, and won.
Whatever the Freak had worked on her was some sort of magic. Certainly. It was possible that the right amount of his magic could effectively drive it out. The problem was the lack of scientific reason behind this theory. He could ask Mulch once he returned, but for a dwarf to know explicit details about the workings of magic was...rare, to say the very least.
And Mulch threw open the door, and a triumphant grin spread across a filthy, mud-stained face.
Artemis dared to hope.
"You located the statue?"
The dwarf shook his head, but was still grinning. Then he held out a handful of gemstones and precious chains, and although Artemis would have applauded under normal circumstances, today he just rolled his eyes.
"I'm happy for you. Really," he said, before turning back to Holly. He could try. It was a fully worthwhile risk to take.
Mulch sauntered over to them. "What're you doing?"
"I have a hunch."
"Hunch? Does Artemis Fowl have a hunch? That's not some big theory?" Mulch held his hand to his heart in shock. "My dear boy, I am proud of your sudden normalcy."
Artemis didn't even bother scowling. "I could jump-start her magic," he lied smoothly. "A violent procedure, so I'm going to need a quiet environment."
Mulch snorted. "Basically you're asking me to leave."
"Obviously."
"How are you going to...jump-start her magic? Electrocution?"
"Electrocution," Artemis nodded. Smart dwarf. It came a little close to the truth. "But it might go horribly wrong if you distract me."
Mulch sighed. "Might as well give her a Sleeping Beauty kiss while I'm gone."
Artemis had to scowl at that, if only to prevent the colouring in his cheeks. "Honestly now."
"Okay, okay, I'll give you yer privacy," said the dwarf with antagonizing teasing in his tone, waltzing over to the door. He left and slammed it shut.
"Sleeping Beauty kiss," muttered Artemis, flexing his fingers. "Alright, Major, let's see how well Ethos takes a shot of black magic."
.
"Let me get this straight," Holly raised a finger as if that might shut him up. It didn't, but right then a pretty sturdy gnome happened to cross their path and Artemis was forced to stop talking, unless he didn't at all mind bouncing back into the rotating doors of the mall they'd just exited. Holly spent a second in immense disappointment that this did not happen; it would've been a sight to behold and remember forever.
Artemis rolled his eyes patronizingly. "Please don't tell me you're still coming to terms with the combined society concept. It's been days."
Holly scowled. "Exactly. Just three days and I'm supposed to get used to this? The cashier was a Mud Man. The guy behind us in line was a sprite. How the heck does that work?"
"We are a united people," replied the Mud Man nonchalantly as they took to a zebra crossing alongside a pixette, a centaur and several humans.
"Unbelievable," breathed the elf. "The humans and the People share the surface. And the first place you show me is a D'Arvitting mall."
"You did ask for substantial proof."
"Have I ever told you how much I want to punch you in the face?"
Artemis placed an arm around her shoulders in what was too friendly a gesture to be coming from him, but the elf had other matters to question.
"Multiple times, Major."
"How long has it been like this?"
"The traffic lights in red?"
"The united society, D'Arvit! And how did I not know until two days ago?"
Artemis just shrugged. "Maybe you've lived in the real world for too long."
Holly was just about to snap back at what she was sure would be an insubstantial answer, but the real words that came from him were unexpected enough to make her freeze. Eyes disbelieving, she looked up to launch into a million questions, but it soon became apparent that her part-time human counterpart had other plans.
Artemis leaned in and kissed her, and right in the middle of countless eyes directly before the famed street sign of 5th Avenue, New York.
And, considering that quite a few passers-by stopped to stare gaping, perhaps the combined population was not quite ready for an interspecies PDA just yet.
The moment her senses kicked in, the elf jerked away from the contact, but that was not before someone a little more relevant than the random passers-by coughed pointedly from behind the sign.
"M-Mother," she started, eyes wide. "I can explain…"
"Perhaps later, Holly," said Coral Short quietly, but firmly, although her stern expression soon broke off into a smile. "Shoo away, Mud Boy. Aren't I allowed a little time with my daughter?"
Artemis shifted on his feet uncomfortably. "Very well. I'll just get going, then."
"You do that," said Coral curtly, taking Holly's arm and leading her away from the flock of gawking pedestrians. Soon enough, though, they stopped at a quieter part of the street and she faced her daughter fully.
"It wasn't me," began Holly immediately. "And I swear, next time I see that Mud Boy I'll-"
"Hush, child," laughed Coral. "Don't use that term. We're a united society, and humans consider it very offensive."
Holly frowned, stopping short. "Ah. I see."
"Still coming to terms with it?"
They started walking.
"I don't understand anything," admitted Holly, if more to herself than her mother. "How…how did this happen? When did happen? I thought if the humans ever discovered the People it would be failed peace talks and war after that."
"The humans…" Coral absently gazed at a skyscraper that Holly failed to name. "Didn't discover us."
"Then what happened? Who did?"
"Nothing," said Coral, almost at once. "Nothing happened. This is how it's always been, dear."
Holly shook her head. "No. That can't be. After the battle of Taillite—" And she stopped short again. Then, synching with the realization that was dawning on her, she carefully ventured, "Artemis had a different answer to that question."
Coral raised an eyebrow teasingly at her. "It's Artemis now, is it? When did you two get close?"
Holly frowned. "You're dodging the question."
"You dodged my question. Come on, sweetheart, what's going on in that young mind of yours?"
Holly faltered in her steps. Her mind was supplying her with explanations that she did not like. "No. This…this doesn't make sense. How can you expect me to believe that…that humans and fairies share the surface, and it's been that way for years, or…or like you say, forever…"
She met Coral straight in the eyes.
"Who are you?"
Coral laughed as if the question was ridiculous. "Clearly you've been in the dark a little too long, Poppy. How have you forgotten everything about the world we live in?"
"This is not the world I live in," breathed Holly, taking a couple more steps back. Coral's face took on a look of disappointment, but the skyline of the city and its buildings seemed to darken around her. The chatters of pedestrians and excited tourists started to feel conceited in her ears. The perfect world she stood in was starting to fall apart. Bit by bit, building by building, each individual block in the pavements shunting into another place and never coming back.
The morning wind picked up and stirred into a howl just as cackles of electricity sparked around her arms.
Ethos, a voice screamed at her. It's not real!
But why not?
Coral laughed and said something.
Why couldn't it be real?
Her mind went into overdrive, half for, half against the true meaning of the place she was stuck in. Maybe a garden can't have popped up in the middle of the desert, but the desert could have been the delusion. She had suffered a sink hole in the Atlantic and Freaks in the real world– it was probable that what she thought of as the real world was actually Ethos.
Ethos was supposed to be some kind of prison. Some kind of horrible place. The garden and the city and its diverse people were anything but.
But the perfect world didn't make an ounce of sense. The perfect world was alien, foreign, utterly unbelievable.
Holly looked down at her fingertips, where violent black sparks hissed as if trying to burn some sense into her. Or, no, it was doing something better, something she suddenly wished it would do.
It was drawing her back.
Coral noticed and lunged, eyes wide with alarm, but it didn't last. She was no longer Coral Short. She was no longer even there. She was back in the garden, but it had grown colder, paler, whispering for her to come back. To return to it. Making promises she now knew were false.
The black magic was drawing her back to the real world.
A shopping mall accommodating humans and fairies? How on earth had she believed that?
Then Ethos turned violent and shot out invisible tendrils that grabbed for her legs, but Holly was ready. She kicked against the current, willed herself away from the garden. It didn't look like a paradise anymore. It was starting to fall apart for what it really that was. The cracked ground and the acid pits that Caleb had mentioned. The tortured souls who screamed for help, hope. She could even distinctly make out a few faces. Among them were both fairies and humans...and the pixie from the grocery store...and Trouble Kelp...
Holly's eyes widened with further shock, and realization.
Pathos had struck Haven City.
No. She didn't want to be here. She had a mission to complete and people to save. She wanted out.
And fighting the current with her own magic, Holly willed herself back to the real world.
••
Artemis stepped back the moment Holly's magic kicked in, blue sparks that combatted the black, and an instant later the elf shot up, gasping for breath, eyes wide open and fully awake.
She spent several seconds staring around her surroundings, breathing heavily, and only eventually did she spot him.
"F-Fowl?" she asked, careful not to use Artemis after what she'd been getting used to back there.
Artemis nodded, but didn't come any closer because of the sparks that still buzzed around her frame.
"Where am I?" tried Holly. "Is this still...Ethos, or am I back?"
"You're back," replied the Mud Man. "And you're welcome, by the way."
Holly stared at him. "The black magic was you."
"Obviously."
She ran a mental checklist. No nervous shifting, no sudden kisses. Yes, this was the real Artemis, and she felt like such an absolute idiot for what she'd believed in Ethos.
"That place is messed up," she muttered, tiredly rubbing her forehead. "I can't believe...ugh, it doesn't matter. We have work to do. Where are we?"
Artemis sat on the couch, or rather, the arm of the couch, because the couch itself hosted a variety of different creepy-crawlies and dwarf odour. "We're in the town of Gilemo, and we are yet to locate the statue, the first key. You were out for a day. And don't think you can get away without further explanation on your part, Major. There's a lot about Ethos I might have to know."
"It's only been a day," Holly blinked, completely ignoring the human's unsatisfied curiosity. "Right. What time is it?"
"Evening, about seven. We'll have to check with Caleb if it's wise to let you sleep again so soon."
"I don't want to," said the elf, feeling a shiver along her spine at the recent memories. "I'm not going to return to that–D'Arvit."
"Major?"
Holly sat straighter. "Trouble. I saw Trouble."
Artemis raised an eyebrow. "I bet you did."
Holly scowled at him. "I meant Trouble Kelp, my colleague. There were fairies from Haven in Ethos, Fowl. They shouldn't have been unless..."
"Unless Opal's Freaks have already attacked," concluded Artemis, ever the know-it-all. "If it's any help, thanks to your stay in Ethos at least we know that bit of information. We need to be quick. Opal clearly doesn't waste any time."
"No, she doesn't," Holly swung her legs off the side of the bed. Her head still felt a little woozy, but she was going to ignore it if it took all her willpower. "Whatever the next phase of our plan is, I'm ready."
Before Artemis could reply, their attention was drawn to an urgent knocking on the door.
"We found it," gasped Caleb, when the Mud Man let him in. "We found the first key, but it isn't going to be easy."
…
Author's Notes; AND THAT CONCLUDES AN 18 PAGED CHAPTER! I am dying to know what you guys thought of this one. I'd really appreciate a review!
Coming up; Colours, costumes and lions, along with one Julius Root finally making a real debut. Things are about to get outrageously out of hand.
Cheers!
The Princess of Weird XD
