- Minnesota, the middle of nowhere -
"Kid, they're calling for coffee." Liz brushed a curly strand of very died blonde hair behind her ear as she chewed her gum loudly. She was the typical waitress at a diner that served mainly truckers: forty, flirtatious, and she acted tough, though Kip knew that was not the case.
"Got it," she said, grabbing the two pots - regular in her right hand, decaf in the left, as always - and getting herself out of the kitchen. It was easy to tell who wanted coffee; as soon as she appeared, about five men started clapping. Kip rolled her eyes, asking "Regular or decaf?" of each and ignoring the one young trucker who definitely winked in her direction. She preferred the older ones, the ones who were about the right age to be her father. They liked flirting with Liz, and they left Kip well enough alone.
"Well, Katherine," this younger one said, with a look on his face that told her he thought he was hot stuff. "And what are you doing tonight?"
"Working," she said shortly.
"Then maybe I can come back."
One of the other men called her away at a convenient time. "Just thought I'd order some pie to get you away from him," the man said jovially, flashing her a smile through his gray beard.
"Thank you, sir," she said, meaning both for the order and for the distraction.
"Kip, order's up!" Liz called, taking the lighter tray for herself. Kip just rolled her eyes, going back and grabbing the second. She decided she had to set her standards higher than being a waitress here for the rest of her life. Maybe she could actually end up as the cook; cooks were always right.
- Little-used chute near the Twin Cities, Minnesota -
Artemis rubbed the translator behind his ear. It was rather annoying, actually, though necessary, as it would also serve as direct communication to Foaly. The annoying came from the fact that he could not get a decent haircut and still have it remain unnoticed. "Something bothering you, Master Artemis?" Butler asked quietly as they waited for Holly to tell them to get on the shuttle.
"Nothing, Butler," the young man answered crisply. What use was there in admitting the centaur had hurt his feelings? Just because he preferred computers to girls did in no way mean there was anything wrong with - well, it didn't mean there was anything wrong, period. "What is taking her so long?"
He was tired. They had already taken a commuter - no, make that two - beneath the Atlantic Ocean and then under Minnesota. Granted, he had tried to sleep, but the craft had the annoying habit of giving a jolt every time he dropped off. Artemis wondered idly what sort of email Foaly had sent his parents to explain his absence. Something about a friend who was staying with relatives and wanted company . . . well, that would surprise the Fowl couple. They didn't really think he had any friends.
"I assume she is checking the safety features of the craft. They said this had not been used in a while," Butler said in a calm voice.
Artemis sighed, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall, checking first to be sure it was clean. He was having second thoughts about this. Going to America in search of a girl who was half sprite? If he was going to end up with another Holly on his hands, well, it would make for an exiting time, but he would be glad when it was over.
"Everything seems to be in order," Holly called through the open door. "Come in and fasten your restraining belts, please."
Artemis was not in the mood to deal with a chipper fairy, but he let it slide. She was supposed to get them to the surface alive, and it would not bode well to make her mad before that happened. So he merely entered the ship, strapped himself in, and held on for the ride.
- Operations Booth -
Foaly was seriously considering a swift kick with his back leg. It was a muscle reflex, honestly, though one that would render a certain sprite unconscious. A certain annoying sprite.
"What's going on?" Chix asked anxiously. "Have they found her yet?"
Hmm, definitely not father material. Good thing the kid was already eighteen. Imagine the childhood she would have had with this guy. Heck, imagine the childhood she must have had without him . . . "They have just exited the shuttle," he said evenly, though this was all clear on the map in front of him. Artemis - and therefore Butler - had checked into a five- star hotel to get some rest before going on his data. Which, Foaly was sad to admit, was not much. All he could provide was a strange set of data that seemed centered somewhere in northern Minnesota, but the "seemed centered" part meant she could be anywhere within the state.
When a normal fairy was in a location and he passed it over with a special scan, there was a rather neat, tiny flower pattern that told him whether the fairy was running hot or just hanging on until the next full moon to plant an acorn. This was a rather strange pattern he was observing, larger, a bit lopsided. And the thing was, for all he knew the girl was running hot. Which seemed impossible. Granted, fairies could run on the power of a single acorn for twice her age, but this was not a fairy, not entirely. The centaur shook his head. They would have to wait for her to get back here so he could figure this one out.
He cast a glance at the sprite in the corner, pouring over the printout of some useless data Foaly had given him in order to make him shut up for a while. It was a list of the highest Solitaire scores on Artemis Fowl's computer - it seemed the Mud Boy was addicted - but Chix was treating it like the Holy Grail. Any moment now his head was going to pop up and he'd -
"Have they found her yet?"
Arrgh! No. But they'd better. And soon.
- Minnesota, the middle of nowhere -
The jangling phone jarred Kip awake. For a moment she was disoriented, having worked past midnight the night before at Joe's request. And, seeing as he owned the diner, she had complied. She needed the money.
"'llo?" she mumbled into the receiver.
"Kid, we need you five minutes ago. Sandra's called another day off. My bet, she's not sick at all; I think it's her boyfriend."
Liz's voice was not music to Kip's ears. She rubbed her eyes and took a look at her watch. "Liz, it's seven o'clock!"
"And we needed you at six fifty-five. Can you come? You know you're into overtime."
Kip was awake, albeit crankily, and she ran a hand through her hair, glad she had showered the night before. "I'm s'posed to work the afternoon."
"Then we won't expect you to be cheery. Hurry up, kid; we've got truckers coming in."
The dial tone was loud in her ear. "Hurry up"? Like she could bike over there that quickly. She'd at least pause to run a comb through her hair and secure it in a bun, throw on her uniform, and - Joe had better come in on his knees, kissing her shoes. Is he though he could jerk her around like this -
Calm down, Kip scolded herself. It's not Joe's fault Sandra's taken the day off, and you asked for the overtime. Everybody knows why.
Yeah, well, she answered herself, grabbing her bike out of the hallway and wheeling it to the elevator, that doesn't mean I have to like it.
- Twin Cities, Minnesota -
Artemis was not all that impressed with the American five stars. Then again, he was not overly amazed with those back home, either. But staying for one night was bearable, especially when Foaly clicked in on the communicator. "Would you rent a car and drive north sometime soon? Or we won't have any need to tell her we've got her father down here."
"Oh, really?" Artemis smirked. "You're going to get away that easily with murder?"
"Hah, hah, Mud Boy. Now get moving, would you?"
Darn. That centaur, being in charge of communications, had the annoying habit of always being able to get the last word. Artemis sighed. "The shopping spree will have to wait until we get a car and start moving," he told Butler. "And, trust me, once we find a decent clothing store, you need something more casual to fit in here."
"Of course, Master Fowl." The manservant followed his charge out of the room and downstairs to check out. It was a rather interesting study that the young man had obeyed instantly, though he was going to save the thinking for another day.
- Operations Booth -
Foaly snorted and kicked a panel beneath the main computers. "There, are you happy?" he demanded.
"About what?" Chix had just entered, granted, but he had caught the second half of the conversation.
"That the Mud Boy is on the move," the centaur said stiffly, grinding his teeth. It was a good thing Root was giving him overtime on this. After all, it was a rather urgent situation, for one thing, and the commander could not have the smartest engineer he knew jailed for sprite slaughter.
"Oh. Good." He shrugged. "I don't see what the big deal is. She's got to be human, you know."
"Which doesn't explain why, for all I can tell, she's running hot." Foaly's voice was level, though he was obviously not calm.
"Maybe there's a bug in the system." Chix shrugged again. "Oh, well. If you don't need me here, maybe I'll go catch some of the action topside. There's a full moon tonight." He waggled his eyebrows.
"Sure, why don't you go check it out with Root," was the pleasant reply. "Maybe he'll hook you up with my newest invention."
"What's that?"
"It prevents little sprites like you from using the Mesmer."
Chix left in a bit of a huff, saying something like "I'd never do that," but the fact remained: he had.
Foaly chuckled to himself. One, the little squirt was out of his space, and two, there was no such new invention. But it was fun to see a sprite sweat.
- Minnesota, approaching the middle of nowhere -
Artemis sighed, trying to refold the roadmap. Two more nights, each in a different less-than-five-star hotel were really getting to him. He wanted to be back home in his waterbed, for one thing, and with decent caviar, for another. That, and Butler looked strange in khakis, loafers, and polo shirts. With she sunglasses and a couple weapons secured under the getup, just in case.
"Something wrong, Master Artemis?" Butler asked, expertly handling the secondhand car they had purchased for a wad of bills from a rather sleazy dealer.
"My rear hurts and I want to stretch my legs," he said testily. "Other than that, no, thanks for asking."
Butler was about to make a reply when he gave a wordless yell, spinning the steering wheel and yet still not quite avoiding the cyclist. He flicked on the caution lights and was almost immediately out the door. "I didn't see her," he muttered almost frantically, noting the bike had been crushed under the front tire.
Artemis felt his stomach clench as he thought of the state the girl must be in, not so hastily climbing out of the vehicle.
Butler was crouched by her side, hand on her wrist. "Her pulse is still strong," he muttered, eyes roving over her still form for possible signs of broken bones.
Artemis looked, as well. She was about his age, he would guess, though as much a foot shorter. She had been flung from the bike before it had been crushed, that much was certain, and suffered a cut on her forehead and a badly scraped right elbow, but, it seemed, nothing worse.
She moaned, eyelids fluttering slightly. "Don't try to sit up yet," Butler said in a soothing voice. "I don't want you to do any harm to yourself."
"No, you've got that covered," she moaned, opening amber eyes. "Don't they teach you to drive in Scotland?"
"Ireland," Artemis corrected, actually surprised she had picked up that much of an accent. "And we didn't see you."
"Your aim would prove otherwise." She sat up slowly, smiling. "Guess you haven't seen that movie."
"We can get you a new bike," Butler said, still concerned. "And we should get someone to take a look at you."
"Take a look at me? I'm late enough for work already. I've got to be going." She stood, brushing her hands off on the seat of her pants and reaching up to redo her bun, securing her long brown hair once more and trying not to wince at the pain in her arm.
"But you're bleeding - "
"And we have first-aid kits in the back. Look, I really have to be going. If you'll kindly take that thing to the nearest trash heap - " She indicated the ruin of her bike. "If I'm late, they'll kill me for sure."
"Yes. Here." Butler pulled a couple bills off a roll from his pocket and pressed them into her hand. "You don't want our names or anything? Your parents are going to be upset when you come home."
"Trust me, I'll manage." She squinted at the money. "You must be joking. You only meant to give me one of these, right?" She was trying to give some back.
"Trust me, I meant to give it to you. See a doctor on us. And get a bike."
She hesitated, then stuck out her hand. "I'm Kip."
"Butler." His hand almost swallowed hers.
"Right." She nodded once, then looked at her watch. "Ach, I've got to go." And she took off at a run, her stride even and comforting as she disappeared around the corner, taking off her helmet as she went.
Artemis frowned slightly. "She was . . . amazing."
"Amazingly tough and strong willed, you mean," Butler said, climbing back in the car. "You've had your stretch; we still have a few hours before dark. Come on."
The younger Mr. Fowl, feeling for some reason as if he were in a daze, climbed back in the car, fastened his seatbelt, and stared out the window at nothing while waiting for Butler to remove the remains of the bike and begin on their way once more.
- Minnesota, the middle of nowhere -
Kip stopped just around the corner, ducking behind a convenient tree for a moment. Her arm hurt a bit, but passing her left hand over it and concentrating slightly healed the damage without a scratch and, a moment later, her sleeve as also repaired. The cut on her forehead took another instant, then a moment to remove the blood and dirt stains from her shirt. Really, that man did not need to give her nearly so much money; she hadn't needed a doctor in years.
Of course, she reminded herself, taking off running again, if she got fired, she may well appreciate his gift of money much more than he would ever know.
- Operations Booth -
The alarms jangled Foaly out of a good rest. He didn't quite know where he was a moment, having dozed off in the form-fitted chair. It took him a bit to locate the source of the incessant buzzing and turn it off, then some more time to realize what the readings were telling him. He dialed Artemis' number straight away.
"Yes, what?" Artemis snapped into the phone, sounding for all the world like Foaly had just interrupted an important train of thought.
"You need to stop what you're doing and head south again," Foaly commanded.
"Oh, you've a more accurate reading now, do you?"
"Quiet, Mud Boy. You're too far north now. She just used magic to - to do something, and the scan picked it up. She's further south than you are."
There was a moment of silence as if the Mud Boy had covered the mouthpiece and was conferring with Butler. "This happened when, a few minutes ago?"
"Yes. Did you think I'd wait an hour to tell you?" Foaly snapped. Chix had worn him thin, and now, to deal with this boy again . . . except, by human standards at least, he was no longer a boy. Oh, well. No time for that now.
"As if it was a healing?"
There was something going on in that kid's brain, the centaur was sure of it. "Artemis. What do you know?"
"Oh, not much. Except I think we just hit Chix's daughter a moment ago and ruined her bike."
"Kid, they're calling for coffee." Liz brushed a curly strand of very died blonde hair behind her ear as she chewed her gum loudly. She was the typical waitress at a diner that served mainly truckers: forty, flirtatious, and she acted tough, though Kip knew that was not the case.
"Got it," she said, grabbing the two pots - regular in her right hand, decaf in the left, as always - and getting herself out of the kitchen. It was easy to tell who wanted coffee; as soon as she appeared, about five men started clapping. Kip rolled her eyes, asking "Regular or decaf?" of each and ignoring the one young trucker who definitely winked in her direction. She preferred the older ones, the ones who were about the right age to be her father. They liked flirting with Liz, and they left Kip well enough alone.
"Well, Katherine," this younger one said, with a look on his face that told her he thought he was hot stuff. "And what are you doing tonight?"
"Working," she said shortly.
"Then maybe I can come back."
One of the other men called her away at a convenient time. "Just thought I'd order some pie to get you away from him," the man said jovially, flashing her a smile through his gray beard.
"Thank you, sir," she said, meaning both for the order and for the distraction.
"Kip, order's up!" Liz called, taking the lighter tray for herself. Kip just rolled her eyes, going back and grabbing the second. She decided she had to set her standards higher than being a waitress here for the rest of her life. Maybe she could actually end up as the cook; cooks were always right.
- Little-used chute near the Twin Cities, Minnesota -
Artemis rubbed the translator behind his ear. It was rather annoying, actually, though necessary, as it would also serve as direct communication to Foaly. The annoying came from the fact that he could not get a decent haircut and still have it remain unnoticed. "Something bothering you, Master Artemis?" Butler asked quietly as they waited for Holly to tell them to get on the shuttle.
"Nothing, Butler," the young man answered crisply. What use was there in admitting the centaur had hurt his feelings? Just because he preferred computers to girls did in no way mean there was anything wrong with - well, it didn't mean there was anything wrong, period. "What is taking her so long?"
He was tired. They had already taken a commuter - no, make that two - beneath the Atlantic Ocean and then under Minnesota. Granted, he had tried to sleep, but the craft had the annoying habit of giving a jolt every time he dropped off. Artemis wondered idly what sort of email Foaly had sent his parents to explain his absence. Something about a friend who was staying with relatives and wanted company . . . well, that would surprise the Fowl couple. They didn't really think he had any friends.
"I assume she is checking the safety features of the craft. They said this had not been used in a while," Butler said in a calm voice.
Artemis sighed, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall, checking first to be sure it was clean. He was having second thoughts about this. Going to America in search of a girl who was half sprite? If he was going to end up with another Holly on his hands, well, it would make for an exiting time, but he would be glad when it was over.
"Everything seems to be in order," Holly called through the open door. "Come in and fasten your restraining belts, please."
Artemis was not in the mood to deal with a chipper fairy, but he let it slide. She was supposed to get them to the surface alive, and it would not bode well to make her mad before that happened. So he merely entered the ship, strapped himself in, and held on for the ride.
- Operations Booth -
Foaly was seriously considering a swift kick with his back leg. It was a muscle reflex, honestly, though one that would render a certain sprite unconscious. A certain annoying sprite.
"What's going on?" Chix asked anxiously. "Have they found her yet?"
Hmm, definitely not father material. Good thing the kid was already eighteen. Imagine the childhood she would have had with this guy. Heck, imagine the childhood she must have had without him . . . "They have just exited the shuttle," he said evenly, though this was all clear on the map in front of him. Artemis - and therefore Butler - had checked into a five- star hotel to get some rest before going on his data. Which, Foaly was sad to admit, was not much. All he could provide was a strange set of data that seemed centered somewhere in northern Minnesota, but the "seemed centered" part meant she could be anywhere within the state.
When a normal fairy was in a location and he passed it over with a special scan, there was a rather neat, tiny flower pattern that told him whether the fairy was running hot or just hanging on until the next full moon to plant an acorn. This was a rather strange pattern he was observing, larger, a bit lopsided. And the thing was, for all he knew the girl was running hot. Which seemed impossible. Granted, fairies could run on the power of a single acorn for twice her age, but this was not a fairy, not entirely. The centaur shook his head. They would have to wait for her to get back here so he could figure this one out.
He cast a glance at the sprite in the corner, pouring over the printout of some useless data Foaly had given him in order to make him shut up for a while. It was a list of the highest Solitaire scores on Artemis Fowl's computer - it seemed the Mud Boy was addicted - but Chix was treating it like the Holy Grail. Any moment now his head was going to pop up and he'd -
"Have they found her yet?"
Arrgh! No. But they'd better. And soon.
- Minnesota, the middle of nowhere -
The jangling phone jarred Kip awake. For a moment she was disoriented, having worked past midnight the night before at Joe's request. And, seeing as he owned the diner, she had complied. She needed the money.
"'llo?" she mumbled into the receiver.
"Kid, we need you five minutes ago. Sandra's called another day off. My bet, she's not sick at all; I think it's her boyfriend."
Liz's voice was not music to Kip's ears. She rubbed her eyes and took a look at her watch. "Liz, it's seven o'clock!"
"And we needed you at six fifty-five. Can you come? You know you're into overtime."
Kip was awake, albeit crankily, and she ran a hand through her hair, glad she had showered the night before. "I'm s'posed to work the afternoon."
"Then we won't expect you to be cheery. Hurry up, kid; we've got truckers coming in."
The dial tone was loud in her ear. "Hurry up"? Like she could bike over there that quickly. She'd at least pause to run a comb through her hair and secure it in a bun, throw on her uniform, and - Joe had better come in on his knees, kissing her shoes. Is he though he could jerk her around like this -
Calm down, Kip scolded herself. It's not Joe's fault Sandra's taken the day off, and you asked for the overtime. Everybody knows why.
Yeah, well, she answered herself, grabbing her bike out of the hallway and wheeling it to the elevator, that doesn't mean I have to like it.
- Twin Cities, Minnesota -
Artemis was not all that impressed with the American five stars. Then again, he was not overly amazed with those back home, either. But staying for one night was bearable, especially when Foaly clicked in on the communicator. "Would you rent a car and drive north sometime soon? Or we won't have any need to tell her we've got her father down here."
"Oh, really?" Artemis smirked. "You're going to get away that easily with murder?"
"Hah, hah, Mud Boy. Now get moving, would you?"
Darn. That centaur, being in charge of communications, had the annoying habit of always being able to get the last word. Artemis sighed. "The shopping spree will have to wait until we get a car and start moving," he told Butler. "And, trust me, once we find a decent clothing store, you need something more casual to fit in here."
"Of course, Master Fowl." The manservant followed his charge out of the room and downstairs to check out. It was a rather interesting study that the young man had obeyed instantly, though he was going to save the thinking for another day.
- Operations Booth -
Foaly snorted and kicked a panel beneath the main computers. "There, are you happy?" he demanded.
"About what?" Chix had just entered, granted, but he had caught the second half of the conversation.
"That the Mud Boy is on the move," the centaur said stiffly, grinding his teeth. It was a good thing Root was giving him overtime on this. After all, it was a rather urgent situation, for one thing, and the commander could not have the smartest engineer he knew jailed for sprite slaughter.
"Oh. Good." He shrugged. "I don't see what the big deal is. She's got to be human, you know."
"Which doesn't explain why, for all I can tell, she's running hot." Foaly's voice was level, though he was obviously not calm.
"Maybe there's a bug in the system." Chix shrugged again. "Oh, well. If you don't need me here, maybe I'll go catch some of the action topside. There's a full moon tonight." He waggled his eyebrows.
"Sure, why don't you go check it out with Root," was the pleasant reply. "Maybe he'll hook you up with my newest invention."
"What's that?"
"It prevents little sprites like you from using the Mesmer."
Chix left in a bit of a huff, saying something like "I'd never do that," but the fact remained: he had.
Foaly chuckled to himself. One, the little squirt was out of his space, and two, there was no such new invention. But it was fun to see a sprite sweat.
- Minnesota, approaching the middle of nowhere -
Artemis sighed, trying to refold the roadmap. Two more nights, each in a different less-than-five-star hotel were really getting to him. He wanted to be back home in his waterbed, for one thing, and with decent caviar, for another. That, and Butler looked strange in khakis, loafers, and polo shirts. With she sunglasses and a couple weapons secured under the getup, just in case.
"Something wrong, Master Artemis?" Butler asked, expertly handling the secondhand car they had purchased for a wad of bills from a rather sleazy dealer.
"My rear hurts and I want to stretch my legs," he said testily. "Other than that, no, thanks for asking."
Butler was about to make a reply when he gave a wordless yell, spinning the steering wheel and yet still not quite avoiding the cyclist. He flicked on the caution lights and was almost immediately out the door. "I didn't see her," he muttered almost frantically, noting the bike had been crushed under the front tire.
Artemis felt his stomach clench as he thought of the state the girl must be in, not so hastily climbing out of the vehicle.
Butler was crouched by her side, hand on her wrist. "Her pulse is still strong," he muttered, eyes roving over her still form for possible signs of broken bones.
Artemis looked, as well. She was about his age, he would guess, though as much a foot shorter. She had been flung from the bike before it had been crushed, that much was certain, and suffered a cut on her forehead and a badly scraped right elbow, but, it seemed, nothing worse.
She moaned, eyelids fluttering slightly. "Don't try to sit up yet," Butler said in a soothing voice. "I don't want you to do any harm to yourself."
"No, you've got that covered," she moaned, opening amber eyes. "Don't they teach you to drive in Scotland?"
"Ireland," Artemis corrected, actually surprised she had picked up that much of an accent. "And we didn't see you."
"Your aim would prove otherwise." She sat up slowly, smiling. "Guess you haven't seen that movie."
"We can get you a new bike," Butler said, still concerned. "And we should get someone to take a look at you."
"Take a look at me? I'm late enough for work already. I've got to be going." She stood, brushing her hands off on the seat of her pants and reaching up to redo her bun, securing her long brown hair once more and trying not to wince at the pain in her arm.
"But you're bleeding - "
"And we have first-aid kits in the back. Look, I really have to be going. If you'll kindly take that thing to the nearest trash heap - " She indicated the ruin of her bike. "If I'm late, they'll kill me for sure."
"Yes. Here." Butler pulled a couple bills off a roll from his pocket and pressed them into her hand. "You don't want our names or anything? Your parents are going to be upset when you come home."
"Trust me, I'll manage." She squinted at the money. "You must be joking. You only meant to give me one of these, right?" She was trying to give some back.
"Trust me, I meant to give it to you. See a doctor on us. And get a bike."
She hesitated, then stuck out her hand. "I'm Kip."
"Butler." His hand almost swallowed hers.
"Right." She nodded once, then looked at her watch. "Ach, I've got to go." And she took off at a run, her stride even and comforting as she disappeared around the corner, taking off her helmet as she went.
Artemis frowned slightly. "She was . . . amazing."
"Amazingly tough and strong willed, you mean," Butler said, climbing back in the car. "You've had your stretch; we still have a few hours before dark. Come on."
The younger Mr. Fowl, feeling for some reason as if he were in a daze, climbed back in the car, fastened his seatbelt, and stared out the window at nothing while waiting for Butler to remove the remains of the bike and begin on their way once more.
- Minnesota, the middle of nowhere -
Kip stopped just around the corner, ducking behind a convenient tree for a moment. Her arm hurt a bit, but passing her left hand over it and concentrating slightly healed the damage without a scratch and, a moment later, her sleeve as also repaired. The cut on her forehead took another instant, then a moment to remove the blood and dirt stains from her shirt. Really, that man did not need to give her nearly so much money; she hadn't needed a doctor in years.
Of course, she reminded herself, taking off running again, if she got fired, she may well appreciate his gift of money much more than he would ever know.
- Operations Booth -
The alarms jangled Foaly out of a good rest. He didn't quite know where he was a moment, having dozed off in the form-fitted chair. It took him a bit to locate the source of the incessant buzzing and turn it off, then some more time to realize what the readings were telling him. He dialed Artemis' number straight away.
"Yes, what?" Artemis snapped into the phone, sounding for all the world like Foaly had just interrupted an important train of thought.
"You need to stop what you're doing and head south again," Foaly commanded.
"Oh, you've a more accurate reading now, do you?"
"Quiet, Mud Boy. You're too far north now. She just used magic to - to do something, and the scan picked it up. She's further south than you are."
There was a moment of silence as if the Mud Boy had covered the mouthpiece and was conferring with Butler. "This happened when, a few minutes ago?"
"Yes. Did you think I'd wait an hour to tell you?" Foaly snapped. Chix had worn him thin, and now, to deal with this boy again . . . except, by human standards at least, he was no longer a boy. Oh, well. No time for that now.
"As if it was a healing?"
There was something going on in that kid's brain, the centaur was sure of it. "Artemis. What do you know?"
"Oh, not much. Except I think we just hit Chix's daughter a moment ago and ruined her bike."