A/N: review responses sent out, as usual.
Also thanks to: TheWatcherandReader, SephirothVII, Mousewolf, Rebel Rose, Mockingbirdflyaway, lil-buddy, artemisfowl12, Aly, JediWeasley, refloc, hogwartscharmed1, UnSerious Sirius, the grass is always greener, SPG, aperfectattitude, angelmisaki, frenchpiment, Aytheria, blondevil, The Flying Moose, DarkShur'tugal, hello, Queen Dragon, ebtwisty9, an-angel-in-hell, canadianscone, cokkii, LettuceNPudding, The OddBird, Oui, Emrisah, CarynG, Fleury, obsessed4life, jonathon skillman
Chapter 16
Pieces of a Jigsaw Puzzle
"What?" Mulch gasped. "What… what d'you mean by saying that he was… never born?"
"Think Mulch," Artemis said, his gaze never leaving the place where he'd last seen his son. "Fiona died. She died before she could have married Alexius Short. Before she could have produced an heir. Holly's father was never born. Holly was never born… Patrick was never born either."
"D'Arvit," the dwarf breathed.
"D'Arvit?" Artemis suddenly lifted his glance from the empty spot where Patrick had disappeared. "Is that all you can say? Do you think that sums it up? Do you have an idea what I'm feeling right now?"
Mulch bit into his lower lip and shook his head.
What do you know of losing someone you love? – Fiona's words of not much earlier were echoing in Artemis's mind. Oh, he did, a lot. Now he did. In a second, he had lost everyone he really loved. Then here was this annoying dwarf with a would-be remorseful expression, and Artemis felt like a geyser about to burst.
"Well, you should!" he snapped at his companion. "I feel totally fucked-up! I agreed to come back once more in time, just to screw up everything! I changed the history of a whole family, and who knows what else? I… I let them die… I caused the only people who meant anything to me to never be born! And you? What the bloody hell were you doing that made those wretched Huns chase after you, eh?"
Seeing anger as he had never seen on the always dignified Artemis Fowl's face, Mulch cringed. "I… I just… had a look at the triple coffin before it was closed…"
The Irishman's eyes narrowed, and in the late afternoon sunshine it seemed to Mulch as though they were glinting with hate. Only blue eyes could glint that cruelly…
"You were trying to steal something," Artemis concluded in an icy voice. "You swore not to get into trouble, and then you went and tried to steal something, setting a whole bunch of blood-thirsty Huns on us, and causing the Short family to die out!"
"Oh, so it's suddenly all my fault, eh?" Diggums stamped his foot. "It was you who allowed little Pat to twist your arm and come back here, not me!"
"But everything would have gone all right if you hadn't tried to steal something as usual!" Artemis yelled back.
"Oh, and if you know me sooooo well, oh great Artemis, then why did you let me go and investigate, eh?"
"As if I could have stopped you when you wanted to go!"
For a moment they stared at each other, both of them out of breath, their faces red with anger. Then Artemis looked away. "Either way, it happened," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "Be it your fault or mine, or both, it happened. And it's up to us to put it right."
"To… to put it right?"
"Go back in time and stop Fiona dying," came the dry reply.
"But… but… Arty…? Didn't you say one couldn't have two versions of themselves at the same time?"
"I did. And I still think it's almost impossible… but there might be a solution… I might be able to work something out and modify the time-machine to enable me to-"
"Modify it? Work something out? Heeeeey, anybody home?" Mulch waved his hands before Artemis's face. "You're no genius any longer, Arty boy! Remember?"
With a patronising stare, Artemis stood up and dusted off his clothing. "You are gravely mistaken, Diggums. I'm a genius. Again."
A look of understanding flashed across the dwarf's face. "Oooooh. You never met Holly, never went to the Aztec pyramid and never lost your genius!"
Artemis nodded grimly.
"But then… how come you still remember her? How come I still remember her? How can we still remember everything that happened in… that life?"
"I don't know, Mulch, I've never been in an alternate universe before… And I doubt anyone ever has. I might write a book about it some day, it'll be an instant hit."
"And what are we in this life, Arty?" Mulch frowned up on him.
"One way to find out," the young man replied. "I return to Ireland. You return to Haven. Then we meet and exchange information. But firstly, we need to bury her." He glanced down at Fiona's prone form, then looked meaningfully at Mulch.
The fairy rolled his eyes. "Always make the poor dwarf do the dirty work, eh? But sorry, Arty, I can't dig like I usually do."
"And may I ask why not?"
"I told you, I ate something that's… clogging up my system. Bad indigestion…"
"Then use that stone over there." Artemis pointed at a flat stone with fairly sharp edges, slightly bigger than a human's palm. It would make a perfect spade.
"And what if you actually helped me?" The dwarf asked, crossing his arms.
"I am helping… by thinking," Artemis said aloofly, and sat into the small shadow offered by the only bush around.
o o o O O O o o o
Artemis watched as Mulch dug a hole for the fairy's body and placed it into the hole. Whenever Mulch cast a side-ways glance at Artemis, he had the impression that the Mud Man wasn't really watching the burial. In fact, Artemis was already far in thought, his brilliant mind weaving ideas of how to modify the time-machine and change everything back. One idea seemed more absurd than the other, and on each path of thought he ran into a dead-end. But there had to be a solution! There was nothing he, Artemis Fowl the Second couldn't figure out if he really tried! He was, once again, one of the three greatest genii on the face of Earth!
"Ready," the dwarf announced after he had smoothed the soil over the fairy's body.
"Oh." Artemis shook, awakening from a trance-like state. "Right. Let's go, then."
"Where? We don't even know where we are," Mulch reminded him.
"This place seems familiar to me. Reminds me of the meadow where we saw the first Hun, the one that had those nasty scars all over his face."
"And what if this is just a similar meadow, say, in Venezuela?"
"Out of the question." Artemis shook his head. "This is European continental vegetation. Those wild-flowers over there – they are only indigenous to the Carpathian Basin. We are very likely still in Pannonia."
"You know, I was sort of missing the Lexicon-Head Artemis…" Mulch grinned, but Artemis did not smile back – on the contrary: his face darkened.
"Even if the 'Lexicon-Head' Artemis came alive by a disaster?" he asked coldly. "Tell you what, I'd be happier with an average intelligence, but having my son at my side."
"Ah… sorry. I wasn't thinking."
"Then next time think before you talk. Or don't talk at all. And now, let's set our time-machines to one second past ten a.m., 16th July, 2016."
"As you wish, Boss," said Mulch half-heartedly.
o o o O O O o o o
A hotel room in Szeged, half past ten a.m., 16th July, 2016
"Won't the receptionists be asking questions when they see that only the two of us leave when three of us had arrived?" Mulch asked as they packed their belongings in their room.
"Receptionists aren't supposed to be asking such questions," Artemis said dryly. "And should they be asking about Patrick, we'll tell them that his uncle Gyula has come for him early in the morning to take him to Balaton."
"Balaton?"
"Hungary's biggest lake. Actually, the biggest lake in central Europe. Most Hungarians spend a few weeks there over the summer. People from the onetime DDR love spending their holidays there too."
"DDR?"
"Deutsche Demokratische Republik," said Artemis, closing his suitcase.
"So, our Pat is currently swimming in Lake Balaton with Uncle G… Uncle what?"
"Never mind." Artemis rolled his eyes. "Come on, the train's leaving in half an hour."
"I hope you booked an Intercity this time! The one that we took the last time was horrible!"
Artemis sent the dwarf a chilling glance that gave Mulch the feeling that his insides had frozen.
"Okay, I don't really mind what kind of train we take," Mulch added quickly, but Artemis had already turned his back on him and headed for the door.
For some reason, Mulch didn't like the new Artemis. The old Artemis, to be exact. This Artemis seemed just as cold as the one that had kidnapped Holly so many years earlier, and Mulch had grown fond of the 'warmer and nicer' Artemis. He wasn't sure he could get used to the cold genius again. If only Arty could change things back…
o o o O O O o o o
Five hours later they were on the plane to Dublin.
As he looked out the window at the clouds floating by, Artemis had the feeling as though it had been months or even years ago when he, Patrick and Mulch had flown to Hungary. And, in reality, it had been only yesterday. He might have spent over a week in the fifth century, but truth was that he had only arrived at Hungary the day before and now he was going home to Ireland. Home… but to what kind of life? He didn't even know what sort of life he had led in this life… he only knew that it was a life without Holly and Patrick. And that in itself was a daunting prospect.
He got drowsier and drowsier by the minute, and before he knew, he was dozing in his seat. He didn't know how long he had been asleep, but he awoke to being poked by Mulch.
"What?" he grunted at the dwarf.
"I had to wake you, you were having a nightmare, Arty."
"A nightmare?" Artemis frowned, trying to remember.
"Yeah, it must have been something nasty. You were muttering about some padded cell and someone called Delylah. You sounded as though you were suffering, so I thought better to wake you."
"Oh, right." Artemis nodded. Padded cell? Delylah? His mind was reeling, desperate to remember his dream, as he was sure it was important. Perhaps his dream had carried information about his current life, the life that he didn't yet know. And then, the first memory came. "My mother…" he muttered. "She's insane. She's in a lunatic ward and doesn't recognise me."
"Is this… something from this life?" Mulch asked.
"I believe so…" Artemis pressed his fingers on his temples, gently massaging them. His eyes were closed, and anyone could have told he was concentrating on something. "My father… he's dead. He disappeared in Russia and never turned up… I got the message from the Russian mafia demanding money… but I never managed to free him…"
When he opened his eyes, it seemed to Mulch that they were watering.
"I'm sorry old chum," the dwarf said compassionately.
Artemis shook his head, blinking back his tears. "No, it's okay. I will change it back. Father's alive and Mother's sane. At least that's how it will be again." He shot his companion a serious glance. "I'll bring them back, if that's the last thing I do."
"Okay, okay, no need to make such deadly promises." Mulch patted Artemis on the arm. "Any other things you remember?"
For a few seconds Artemis stared at the back of the seat in front of him, then shook his head. "None. I can't remember anything else. Perhaps I will, later. Perhaps memories of this life will come to me in several pieces, like in a jigsaw puzzle. I simply need to be patient and I'll remember them all."
"Aren't you afraid that it might addle your brain to have memories of two different lives?" Mulch knitted his eyebrows. "Come to think of it, it might addle my brain too…"
"Why, do you remember anything of your current life?" Artemis asked.
"Not really… for a few seconds I thought I saw images in my head about myself being in a prison – in a prison where I surely haven't been in my 'normal' life - but I might as easily have imagined it."
"Perhaps you too need to fall asleep and dream to remember things," the Irishman mused. "Are you sure I was muttering about a Delylah?"
"Positive, Arty."
"I don't know who she is…"
"Probably your girlfriend." Mulch winked.
"I doubt I have a girlfriend in a life where I haven't met Holly," Artemis said heavily, glancing out at the sky again. "Without Holly's involvement, I must be still the same monster I was before I knew her… a monster without emotions. And emotionless creatures like that don't have girlfriends."
"Oh, yes, they do. If for nothing else, then for showing them off at parties," Mulch replied.
"Well… you're right," Artemis said hesitantly. "But I doubt that I would go to parties in any life."
The image of himself strutting around in a ballroom wearing a tuxedo, with a very blonde girl in a pink, frilly dress at his side, was most disturbing. He seriously hoped he didn't have a girlfriend.
o o o O O O o o o
At the Dublin airport, Artemis said good-bye to Mulch. "Meet you in two days at Fowl Manor. At midnight, in the vine cellar. I hope it's in the same condition in this life like in the other and then you can come through its floor without any trouble."
"Couldn't I just come through the back door?" the dwarf suggested.
"We can't risk it. Remember, we don't know what we are facing. I don't yet know what kind of a Fowl Manor I'm returning to. It might be the same as the one I knew, but it might have been rebuilt or we might even have a squad of guards around the house."
"No squad is needed if old Butler's there," the dwarf remarked.
Artemis heaved a sigh. "I can't be sure that Butler's there at all."
"Is that why you want to take a taxi?"
"Yes. I can't try and phone Butler, as he might have a different phone number in this life… or none at all. We might even have sold the Bentley…"
"All right, then, see you in two days' time." Mulch nodded and watched as Artemis walked with his small suitcase towards the taxi park place.
o o o O O O o o o
The drive from the airport to Fowl Manor seemed to take longer than usual, perhaps because Artemis was too excited to see what was awaiting him there. He was excited, but afraid at the same time. He knew he was going back to a house where he was the only Fowl: his father was dead and his mother was in a lunatic asylum, after all.
He closed his eyes, trying to remember those images about Angeline in the padded cell, and he caught himself on the verge of tears. His mother had looked so pathetic, her usually glorious dark brown hair matted and hanging scruffily onto her shoulders. And her eyes… those beautiful, serene eyes were empty, expressionless…
"Who are you?"
"It's me, Mother. Your son, Artemis."
"Artemis? Isn't that the god of archery? No, you can't be my son. I would never be foolish enough to name a boy after a goddess… But… but you do look familiar to me, you know…"
"Perhaps because I visit you every week. I bring you those pretty, colourful newspapers you so much like looking at."
"Ooooh… the paper-boy! Yes, I remember you!" Angeline replied with a delighted, childish smile on her face.
A smile that tore at Artemis's heart.
He opened his eyes and blinked back a tear that threatened to run down his right cheek.
"All right, sir?" the taxi driver asked over his shoulder. "You look very pale."
"Yes, I'm fine. Just the heat, I suppose," Artemis replied.
"Yeah, horrible, isn't it? I don't remember when we last had thirty Celsius!" The driver nodded. "Not even the air-conditioning can do much about this heat, can it?"
"No, apparently it can't."
They spent the rest of the journey in silence.
As the taxi stopped before the front door of the manor, Artemis felt some kind of a relief. The house looked exactly the same as he remembered. It didn't seem to have been rebuilt, at least not on the outside.
He paid the driver, and as the taxi left, Artemis had the feeling that someone was watching him. He looked up, and saw a pale face in a window on the first floor, peeking out from behind a curtain. As the person realised that Artemis had seen them, they let the curtain fall back into place and disappeared into the darkness of the room. In fact the room wasn't dark, but the sun was shining from behind the manor, forcing Artemis to squint. Against the bright sunshine, he hadn't managed to make out the features of the person who'd glanced down at him, but it seemed to him that it was a short someone with dark blue eyes. But of course, he might have been mistaken.
His heart hammering in his throat, Artemis entered the house. Funny, he told himself, he had never been nervous about entering his own house before.
The entrance hall looked the same as ever, except that it wasn't repainted because there had been no troll-attack to make a renovation necessary.
To the left, the kitchen door stood open, and Artemis entered, careful to notice all little details that might suggest that things were different from what he was used to.
The kitchen looked a bit too tidy – much cleaner and more organised than he'd ever seen it before. As if nobody had cooked in here for quite a while. Or was Juliet a much tidier person in this life? – he wondered.
And then suddenly, something hit him. A tide of pictures flooded his brain, making him dizzy.
He needed to sit down and dropped himself into a chair at the head of the table, propping his face in his palms. He forced his eyes shut, hoping that if he didn't look, then at least the kitchen wouldn't seem to be swirling so fast…
But even with eyes shut, he felt swirling, and so did the hundreds of new bits of memories in his mind.
Piece by piece, they fell into place, and the jigsaw puzzle was starting to take a shape.
Juliet. He had first thought of Juliet.
In this life, Juliet hadn't cooked in this kitchen for several years. She had left to the States to be a wrestler and hadn't returned ever since. When had she left?
Eight years, a voice inside Artemis head replied. She left shortly after Domovoi…
As if stung by a bee, Artemis looked up, frozen with terror. Juliet left after… after Butler had died.
How? Why?
Try as he might, he didn't remember. His old friend had died eight years ago, and he didn't even know what had killed him. Had he died protecting him like in the C Cube incident? Had some kind of an illness finished him off?
He didn't know. All he knew was that he was crying at last. And he didn't even want to hold back. Hot tears spilled down his cheeks for a friend who, perhaps, wasn't even as good a friend in this life.
How can you think of such a thing? – an accusatory voice shrieked inside his head. Butler always was and would always be your best friend, no matter in which life!
Running his fingers across his black hair, Artemis exhaled. Yes. Butler was always my best friend. And I need to remember why he died in this life!
You shouldn't care! – another voice in his mind snapped. – This life isn't real! You're going to change it back anyway, so why bother? Why grieve over a death that never happened?
But what if… what if I can't change it back? – a weak, trembling voice replied, and Artemis knew it to be the voice of his conscience. What if I overestimated my talents? I might be a genius again, but even genii have their limits! If I can't change things back, then… then this is the life I'll be stuck in… In a life where my father and Butler are dead and my mother's mad. What else can this life have in store for me?
As though answering Artemis's last question, a female voice called out: "Artemis? Artemis, is that you?"
He didn't know this voice. All he knew was that it gave him the creeps. It was a voice colder than Opal Koboi's. It was an alto, a little raspy too… unpleasant, to say the least.
Who was this woman? And what was she doing here?
Quickly wiping his tears, Artemis stood up and walked out of the kitchen into the entrance hall.
A slim woman in a body-length, black dress was walking down the stairs, elegantly slipping her long-fingered hand down the carved railing.
Waist-length, black hair framed her pale, oval face. Huge, dark and heavily lidded eyes shone down at Artemis, and the woman's dark red lips were tucked into a theatrical, fake smile.
This is about how the child Artemis had imagined the Queen from Snow White. Dark, dazzling, and deadly.
"Ah, it's really you. At last! I was beginning to think you'd never come home from Switzerland," she said in a would-be interested voice, but Artemis could tell that she didn't really care.
At this moment an icy hand clutched at Artemis's guts as another torrent of memories assaulted him.
Bullets showering towards him, Butler jerking him to the side, taking at least six bullets at once…
Himself seeing Butler collapse under a palm tree, dead on the spot…
Himself being held by two gorillas in a courtyard overgrown with palm trees… the place must have been somewhere in the Middle-East.
"We've got him, sir!" one of the gorillas shouted to someone whom Artemis didn't see. "Shall we kill him, sir?"
A small, balding man with an unpleasant smile appeared. "A petty gunrunner, just like the rest. Yes, definitely, kill him."
"Petty, sir? He's been smuggling weapons into the country for years, and tons of them! He's been taking our customers from us!" one of the musclemen said.
The balding man shrugged. "That's why I said to kill him…"
Artemis felt his knees weaken, and he would have fallen if the two gorillas hadn't been holding him up. Then suddenly they threw him rudely to the ground. He landed in the dirt, coughing as the stirred-up sand got into his lungs. He wasn't even able to sit up – both because his hands were tied behind his back and because he felt that all his strength had left him.
Through half-closed eyelids he saw the two musclemen point their guns at him to fire, when a voice tore at the air:
"Stop!"
It was a female voice. Cold, low and a bit raspy, but to Artemis's ears it was the most beautiful music.
"Delylah? What are you doing out here? This isn't something you should be watching!" The balding man told someone whom Artemis, on the brink of fainting, couldn't see.
"You mean I shouldn't watch as your men execute your competition, Father?" the female replied sarcastically.
"Now, Delylah…"
"I don't want him to die," she said firmly.
"But he's a rival! You know that business is business, and-"
"I – don't – care!" the woman hissed. "And anyway, if he stopped gunrunning, he wouldn't be any harm to you anymore…"
"What are you driving at, Daughter?"
"I like him. He's cute. Not to mention that he's rich. I could find a use for him if you kept him alive…"
Artemis's glance shifted to the woman's hand that was resting on the railing. She was wearing a ring. The very ring that Artemis's mother had worn before she got taken to the asylum. And on her other hand shone a wedding band.
"Cat got your tongue?" Delylah cocked her head, the cold smile still on her lips.
Artemis tried to say 'no', but his vocal cords had failed him. His eyes automatically shifted back to her left hand to confirm that he had seen it well. But there was no doubt.
This woman was his wife.
o o o O O O o o o
A/N: yeah, this was short. The next one is longer and very evil.
Review, please!