Chapter Nine

"Alright," Root barked, "get whatever you need to do done before we leave. Once we're out in the field, we're out in the field, and I am not interested in turning that shuttle around because some numbskull forgot their gear. So hop to it, people. Next flare is in two hours – we'd better be out of here before it hits."

Artemis nodded in the Commander's general direction, just to provide acknowledgment. Whether anyone had been looking or not when he did so was beside the point. No questions came his way as he felt for the door and used it as a guide out into the quiet hallway; he assumed that was a good sign, and kept going, ears pricked for any sign that there was a water fountain in the vicinity. Even with advanced fairy technology, one could usually pick up on some kind of noise. Water pipes were never truly silent.

He almost snorted at the thought. Fixating on plumbing? Perhaps Spiro had driven him mad. But then he refocused on the task at hand, because it was infinitely more appealing than considering why his mouth felt so dry and cracked in the first place.

Spiro. Artemis fought back shivers as the name ran through his mind. Even the man's name felt like spider legs dancing, ready to skitter this way or that at a moment's notice. Yet here he was, preparing to confront his former captor again just days after escaping. Was that the real madness? He wasn't sure what to think about the situation anymore. Artemis knew he had to go – so much more than himself was on the line if the c-cube wasn't retrieved – but cold, rough hands seemed to trail down his spine at the mere idea, as if to promise that he'd be back where he started soon enough. All he had to do was wait like a good boy...

If only he'd listened to Butler back then! Sudden pain blossomed in Artemis's knuckles, and he recoiled with a sharp gasp before realizing that he'd punched a wall in his frustration.

"Stupid," he murmured, stuffing his scuffed fist into a pocket for protection.

This was exactly why Holly had been so furious with him earlier, why every scheme he dreamed up led to ruin. Even now, he kept on losing sight of the innocent lives that could still be saved if all went according to plan. Butler and Juliet and his parents were gone. He'd had years to mourn them. It was time to let go. The entire population of Haven (not to mention the other major fairy settlements) were the ones who stood to lose now, if Artemis failed again.

Bright lights flashed before his mind's eye. A vision of Haven, as he'd once seen it through a window from LEP headquarters. Bustling, vibrant, dirty with countless centuries' grime and the combined evidence of unknown fairies and their histories, all played out in a single massive space. But something was wrong. Sprites burst into the air, elves screamed, pixies fled in the vain hope that they could escape, and Artemis felt his breath catch in sympathy as their combined terror struck at his very core. A horrible, unimaginable din filled his brain as the cavernous roof moved above the city, sending ancient rock spires to the ground like giant hammers. Above that noise, though, was another. One that Artemis new all too well, raspy and chilling.

The kind that he had always imagined with a sneer embedded in it to the core.

Even in this twisted vision Artemis turned away. He didn't want to see the face that would be peering down at him, or the maniacal grin that twisted across its lips.

He didn't want to see anything.

I'm a coward.

Hot tears trailed down his cheeks. Artemis didn't fight them, staggering into the wall and pressing his forehead against the painted concrete. Any observers would still be able to tell that he was crying, but some angry, stubborn side of him refused to let them view the physical evidence. As much as he disliked the liquid pain that leaked from his ruined eyes, it was the one thing he had left now. Nobody else was allowed to take it.

At some point he noticed that his knees had folded, depositing him on the floor. But what was one more little betrayal? His body hadn't been his own for a long time now; it ran by its own ineffable rules, or even worse, by other people's.

"Oi, Mud Boy. You aren't lookin' too good."

Mulch's voice cut through his petrified little nightmare, drawing Artemis back to reality with a sickening jolt. He took a deep, shaky breath and scrubbed at the salt that clung to his face in a vain attempt to hide.

The dwarf crouched beside him. "There you are. Thought I might not get through to ya' for a minute. Here, have a drink. Don't worry, it's just water. I was visitin' the fountain myself, as it happens."

I was hyperventilating, Artemis gathered as the ache in his throat intensified. What moisture he'd had left was gone. He shivered, the idea yet another dull thorn to prick at him. But he'd been lucky that it was just Mulch who found him, even if it didn't feel like it. He didn't want to know what Holly would have thought, finding the great Artemis Fowl cowering in a corner like a helpless babe. Or Root. God, Root might have bitten his head off there and then if he'd seen this.

"Thank you," he whispered when a small cup – small to him, anyway – was pressed into his palm.

A quiet grunt. "It's no problem." Then Mulch shifted, presumably sitting down as well, and Artemis had to fight to keep himself from jerking away. He was being paranoid. It wasn't Spiro or Blunt. Mister Diggums had most certainly proven his skills as a thief, but had never displayed an inclination for violence unless absolutely necessary.

"Now, you want to tell me what's got you all out of sorts?"

Artemis tensed and opened his mouth, ready to spit a pithy reply. No. I don't want to tell anyone anything right now, as it happens. But the impulse soured before he could find the words. The thought of losing one more friend today – even in the loosest possible sense – stuck in his throat like a physical barrier, and he quickly gave up trying to force his vitriol past it.

"Nerves," he bit out at last. "Spiro is a dangerous man."

Mulch bit down on something with a loud crack. From the sound of it, he'd appropriated a few carrots from Foaly. Likely without the centaur's permission.

"Spiro, right. He has all these connections and fancy gadgets. Sounds dangerous enough."

"Sounds dangerous? Of course he sounds dangerous. He is. I just said so."

He could hear the raised eyebrow in the dwarf's next words. "I thought this was just some nerves. Sounds like a bit more than that to me, eh Mud Man?"

Artemis felt his lip curl as he raised a hand to rub at the tension behind his empty eye sockets. Never underestimate Mister Diggums, it seemed. No question now that Mulch had his number. That didn't mean he was interested in spilling his life story, of course, but there was only so much he could get away with keeping to himself at this point. At least when it came to the details that were relevant to the mission...

"You've got me. Yes, I'm afraid of him. But I am not a child anymore. I can master my fear." Apart from his current mental breakdown, Artemis had been doing rather well. Not that Mulch had been around to see that. "This is a minor setback. Nothing more."

An elbow nudged his side.

"If this is what you'd call minor, I'd hate to see what a major setback looks like to you. C'mon, kid. You weren't half as scared when we took on Koboi and Cudgeon and their goblin friends. What's Spiro got on them?"

In his own way, Mulch had a point. And yet, Artemis reflected, emotions were rarely as simple as that. Opal had posed a threat to the fairy world just as grave as the one Spiro posed now, but her menace had never extended to Artemis himself, not directly. As much as it stung to admit it, that mattered. The malice that he'd known for six years was not an easy thing to forget, and it weighed on him; it stole his breath and left him speechless in its wake, a puppet with no master.

How could Koboi ever compare to that?

"Spiro..." Artemis gestured at the gaping holes in his face, unwilling to explain further.

Mulch's answering grunt was thoughtful. "I did wonder about that."

"Quite."

A merciful silence fell between them as Artemis lifted the cup to drink. The water tasted sweeter down here – purer, as Holly had once put it. He couldn't help but contemplate the extra steps that it took to 'purge the mud people' from the water supplies, and indeed where Haven's water came from in the first place, grateful for a nicer subject to distract himself with. Better not to get worked up into a panic again this close to such an important mission, after all. There would be time enough to do that in the shuttle.

Speaking of which...

"How much time?"

His voice wavered. If Mister Diggums had noticed, however, he didn't acknowledge it.

"About forty minutes left before that flare, I reckon. Knowin' Julius, he'll have it all about packed by now."

The Commander never liked to waste time, so the dwarf's words rang true. Artemis stood and smoothed his clothes, ready to leave. He dared not be the one to make them all late: some humans considered being late by a certain margin fashionable, but as a businessman's son Artemis had never been among their number. Punctuality mattered in the business world and it mattered here, to the business of saving lives.

"We should be on our way, then."

Unbeknownst to him, Mulch had started to grin. He'd been starting to wonder where the spirit he'd noticed in the Fowl kid years ago had gone. It was nice to see that game face back on.

"You're the strategy guy, kid. But the shuttle's down this hallway here."

oOoOo

Author's note: Yikes, it's been a while. If any longtime readers are still here, sorry for the wait. It seems the writing brain has returned, though, so hopefully we can all enjoy some more updates in the near future.

Best,

RoT