RESTRICTED ACCESS
Document – 2568799
Patient No. 55555 (AFII)
Day ***
Verbal Log (extract)
Dr.A – And then you left for Italy?
A – Yes.
Dr.A – You just left her there? In the rain?
A – Yes.
Dr.A – And did you mean it?
Pause.
Did you mean what you said to her?
Pause.
A – At the time.
Dr.A – And now?
Pause.
Dr.A – Okay, Artemis, I want you to tell me what happened next.
A – You know what happened next. You have read the files. Half of Haven has read the selected version in their morning digi-papers.
Dr.A – Yes, but I want you to tell me now. What happened when you returned from Hybras?
Pause.
Dr.A – Artemis?
Pause.
Dr.A – Artemis, we agreed on complete honesty. That's what will cure you. It is no use avoiding things.
Pause.
A – You don't understand. You are… you are the first person I have ever talked to about… about this. About her.
Dr.A – I know it is painful.
Laughter.
A – Painful?
Pause.
Dr.A – In your own time.
Pause.
A – I…
Pause.
I reached the manor at six am.
Pause.
It was… a cold morning for the season and the house hadn't looked particularly appealing.
Pause.
Then again, neither had I.
Pause.
Butler had driven me straight from the cottage in Duncade and I hadn't showered or changed my clothes. I was exactly as I was the moment I had left the time stream: muddied, exhausted… and in desperate want of a bed.
Pause.
Dr.A – Go on.
Pause.
A – As… As soon as we had come in sight of the main steps my mother had run out screaming. She'd wrenched the door of the car open and pulled me down into her arms. I saw my father over her shoulder and I… I distinctly remember wondering why he had not approached the car as she had. My thoughts were then distracted however by my mother's sudden bawling.
'Where have you been? Why didn't you contact us?' she'd sobbed, not caring, not noticing, I suspect, that my clothes were soiling the front of her robe.
I could hardly have told her the truth. So I said nothing, and Butler had prised her from me muttering something about us all going inside.
As we moved towards the main doors I glanced up to the second floor windows: where I knew she would be watching if she was in wait for me. She wasn't there. I dismissed her lack of presence as simple caution on her part and moved further into my home.
Once seated in the family lounge my mother's questions had begun again.
'Why haven't you come home sooner?'
'Was someone stopping you?'
'Why is your face the same?'
'Fairies, why did Butler tell us about fairies?'
Throughout my mother's barracking, my mind had wandered again to her and my own many questions.
Did she hate me? I knew, without a doubt, that I could never hate her. We were one and the same. We always had been. And she had paid for our mistakes with three years apart.
Pause.
I turned to my mother then as if returning from a dream and made sure to retain eye contact.
That first time I admit that it hurt.
Dr.A – What had hurt?
A – The magic. Calling the magic that I'd stolen.
'But, Mother,' I had implored, and this time my voice shook with the power of the Mesmer. 'My absence was nothing to worry about. It was simply a family matter and should not be mentioned again.'
'No,' she had told me. 'No, Artemis, this is not to be born. You were gone for three years and I have been out of my mind with worry.'
Pause.
Magic, I believe, is a conscious entity. And in that moment it rejected me, punished me even, worming cracks into my sub-consciousness that would later become foundations for the Complex. However, like the fool I was and still am, I continued to smother my mother's reason with unyielding force.
'There was no need to worry, Mother,' I told her. 'I was always safe. There is no need to worry now. I don't look the same as I left. I look fourteen years old, as I should.'
Butler had stood in the doorway, watching me.
Dr.A – He did not intervene?
A – No. Why would he break the habit of a lifetime? I had simply continued to force the magic onto her.
'Fourteen,' my mother had said. 'You are fourteen, as you should be.'
Father had stirred then. He had finally drawn himself away from whatever something had been occupying his thoughts up to that point and chosen to look at me.
'What are you doing?' he had demanded. 'What are you telling her?'
I turned my gaze on him and looked into the eyes that I then only half shared.
'I am telling her not to worry about my late absence,' I said, and tears had sprung in my eyes, not from guilt but from pain. 'You shouldn't worry either, Father. I am nothing out of the ordinary. If anyone is to ask about me you shall simply explain that it is a family matter.'
'A family matter?'
'Yes. A family matter.'
I wondered briefly whether I should mesmerise Butler to complete the set. Would it have comforted him to forget my absence?
Dr.A – Would it?
A – I do not know. At that moment I decided against it.
'Sleep,' I had ordered my parents, 'and when you wake nothing shall be amiss.'
Both Mother and Father had immediately slumped into the cushions.
I checked them, making sure they were both fully unconscious. My mouth, however, was already screaming for her.
'Annie?' Butler had repeated as I'd passed by him from the room. 'Artemis. Artemis!'
If he spoke after that then I have no memory of it. I had taken the stairs three at a time by that point just screaming and screaming… and screaming.
As I ran I thought. I thought in a way that I believe only I can think.
Dr.A – Only you–?
A – Where was she? What had been done to her? What had I done to her? A hundred different questions all colliding at once.
They had chased each other around about my mind. Round and round and round… and round.
My bedroom, I had run to my bedroom. I was so certain she would be there. But she wasn't. I felt then the beginnings of the feelings that would claim me later. That would consume me.
I ran to the bed. It was creased on only one side, traditionally my side. I seized hold of the covers and held them to me. Her scent was knotted in every stitch.
Butler had appeared behind me. He had said something. But I was too busy demanding my own needs to listen.
'Give me your phone.'
He had spoken again. I remember my confusion. Why was the phone not in my hand? Why was he still talking?
I resorted to a level of communication that I had never used with him before and simply shouted at him.
'Give me your phone!'
He had moved back then, as if my words were bullets, and the phone had appeared instantly in my palm. I tried her number but quickly found that it was no longer in service. That was to be expected; after all I had been away almost three years. I realised then that she would be seventeen.
Seventeen years old.
I quickly tried her brother's number and it had begun to ring.
A familiar voice had answered on the fourth double-chime.
'Hello?'
'Callum?' I had blurted, without much care for composure. 'Callum, is that you?'
'Who is this?'
'It's Artemis Fowl. The Second. I'm sorry to bother you, after... after all this time, but I can't contact your sister. Would you be able to give me her details?'
There was a long pause, ended finally by a laugh.
'Is this a wind up?' he had said, 'because if this is, you are one dead mother-fucker.'
By that point there wasn't room in my mind for confusion, and so I spoke only to contradict him.
'No Callum, this is not a joke. I desperately need to speak with your sister.'
He had laughed again.
'Ha. Yeah. Well that's gonna be a bit of a problem.'
I should have realised then. I should have understood. I simply hadn't considered the option.
Dr.A – The option?
A – 'Callum, please, I really need to speak with her.'
'Oh really? You want to speak to her now do you? Y'know, I actually do believe it's you, Fowl. Only you could be this fucking twisted.'
'Twisted? Callum–'
'She's dead, you bastard.'
Pause.
I can't quite...
Pause.
I can't quite… explain what I felt in that instant. It was... impossible, ineffable.
Pause.
I instantly rejected it.
'No, she's not.'
Callum had snorted.
'Oh yeah? Like you don't know. Like you're not fucking glad of it. You just took off, disappeared! You never gave a shit about her! You left her behind like something you'd just scraped off your boot. And she waited for you, Fowl! She hung around your fucking house, calling your fucking phone, drifting around like some lost puppy, pining away – for you!'
My mind had readily provided the images. I watched as she paced my room, ran her hands over her face, pulled at her clothes, at her hair. I remembered my bed and how there was only a mark on one side. I pictured her lying there, clutching our sheets.
I had shut my eyes tight.
'You're wrong, Callum.'
'I wish I was. That way I would be watching her kill you right now for what you did. Christ! If she knew you were talking to me now she'd rip you limb from fucking limb.'
There had still been a block within my mind, a simple fact that had contradicted his every word.
'Annie...' I had whispered. 'Annie cannot die without me. When she goes I go.'
Callum's rage had been complete. 'Stop talking about her as if you give a shit! You weren't here! You weren't here when-!'
His voice had broken. My mouth had asked the question.
'When she what?'
He had swallowed.
'When she burnt.'
Pause.
Dr.A – Artemis?
Pause.
Dr.A – Artemis?
A – Annie Shinner died sixteen days before my return from Hybras.
Pause.
Sixteen days.
Pause.
I have since read the official forensics report and the multiple newspaper articles that have covered her death.
I need not have bothered.
Callum told me there and then everything there was to know.
You know I see her, Doctor. I see her enter the house of her father. I see her, as she heaves the petrol can to her shoulder, as she carelessly douses it all: the curtains, chairs, carpets, the ceilings. Her feet are ever light, always bare.
When she reaches her father's room, that room, she lifts the tank above her head and upends it. Her hair flattens to her head and liquid trails from her clothes, her mouth. She holds the lighter. She snaps it back. She looks at me. She looks at me with those eyes.
And she drops it.
Pause.
'And do you know how they identified her, Fowl? Do you know the only thing that was left? Her teeth. Her fucking teeth!'
I had just stood there.
'And she was at your house, Fowl! Right before the end! She went to your house right before she did it, looking for you! But you weren't there were you, you bastard? You weren't there!'
I had dropped the phone.
Callum Shinner was still shouting at me but I could smell her now. Somewhere she was calling to me.
I approached the bed and reached my hands into the sheets.
I crawled across them, to the left-hand side, my side, to where her scent was the strongest.
I dropped my face to the pillow, smothering myself, ensuring my every breath was her.
She had lain there. She had lain there and clutched to me in the same way I was now clutching to her.
I had cried out. I couldn't help it.
I had known there would be consequences. I had said I would take them. But I couldn't.
I still can't.
She is everywhere. In my clothes, in the walls, inside my very chest, pounding her fists against my ribcage.
Right then she was looking at me. Straight at me.
I began to scream. Hands had gripped me, restrained me.
'Artemis!' a voice had shouted. 'Artemis, please!'
I pushed against the arms that were holding me, lashed at them, cried out all the more. But soon my strength had failed me.
'Artemis.'
Butler's hands had cradled me.
'She's gone! She's gone!'
He had rocked me like an infant.
'Shhh,' he'd whispered. 'Artemis...'
Pause.
And the sun had risen fully by the time I'd got to my feet.
'Look at me,' I whispered, and Butler had stared up at me. 'You are to go back to your room,' I told him, once more using the power of the Mesmer, 'and forget all about this. You are to go to bed and go to sleep and forget... forget about...'
Butler had swayed, his mouth twitching. He knew he was being enchanted.
'About...?'
'About everything. About anything you have witnessed today... out of the ordinary. I have come back, after almost three years of absence, to find you in your cottage. You have taken me home. I have modified the memories of both my parents and have gone to bed to rest. Nothing else has happened. Everything is... fine.'
He had stood then, towering over me as usual.
'Fine,' he had repeated. 'Everything is... fine.'
My mind was praying to shut down. I listened to him walk from my room.
I managed to reach the armchair that always stood beside my bookcase. I sank into it and out of the corner of my eye I saw the bed.
The sheets were stained a heavy crimson.
I turned my face away but the image still burned behind my eyes.
It has burnt there ever since.
Pause.
Now she's standing right behind you.
End verbal extract
'I'm sorry, but could we please go back to the whole 'Artemis murdering someone' thing? I have a feeling we shouldn't just skip over that.'
Chapter Thirteen - Burnt
The doctor sighed. "Well, there really isn't anything I can do." He lowered the stump back to the bed. "It's a professional job; textbook elbow disarticulation. The amputation area is neat; the bone has been properly sawn and filed. And whoever transposed and stapled the muscle flaps is a surgical genius. If you ever do find out who did this, tell them I want their CV!" He chuckled to himself as he unravelled some fresh dressings.
"When we find who did this," said Artemis Senior quietly, "they shall need all their medical skill for themselves."
In the corner, Butler said nothing. Angeline stroked her son's remaining hand, her skin, for once, paler than his.
The doctor wrapped the wound quickly and tightly. "Since you've declined to keep him in a hospital, I've prescribed a few boxes of oxycodone and some fentanyl just in case the pain breaks through. I can't say that things are going to be very comfortable for him for the next few days – just make sure he doesn't put any pressure on that arm, and keep him drinking. And those bandages need to stay on for another five days before they're changed. I'd advise hiring a professional nurse or a–"
"Butler will attend to all his needs."
The doctor glanced at the suited behemoth beside the window. "I'm… sure he will." He placed the painkillers on the bedside table, and clasped the clip of his bag.
"Thank you, Doctor Wittstein," said Artemis Senior, extending a hand. "Please allow my wife to show you out."
Angeline looked up. "Timmy, I would rather–"
"Angeline."
The woman's lips tightened but she released her son's hand. Artemis senior waited until the door had closed behind them before turning to Butler.
"I want them found," he said, his blue eyes clear and sharp. "I don't care what it takes. I don't care if we have to dig up every contact we have or ever had. I want this Neck severed, his head on a pike, before the week is out."
Butler stepped clear of the shadows. "Do we have anything to go on, sir?"
"A little. Too little." The Fowl Patriarch clasped his hands behind his back, treading the same route his son did at times of frustration. "I suspect that Arty–" He glanced down at his eldest son. The teenager's eyes were closed, his breathing slow and steady.
Butler followed his gaze. "Sir." He hesitated. "Sir, I… I have failed in my duty. Artemis is mine to protect and–"
"You weren't there. You were twenty miles away at my own insistence so if anyone has failed in their duty of care it is I. As soon as I knew that he had begun to dabble in criminality I should have reinstated you in his school. I assumed that there he would be safe. Safe among… among children. What monster –?"
"Father…?"
Artemis's voice was faint, groggy. Both men were immediately at his side.
"Artemis," started Butler. "How are you feeling? Are you in pain?"
The boy didn't answer. He was breathing raggedly through his mouth, his eyelids barely managing to open. He gazed around, confused, and then caught sight of his bandages. He gave a weak moan.
"Arty," said his father, the pain clear in his voice. "Son–"
"I… arm…"
"I know. I know."
"Why…?"
Artemis Senior shared a glance with his son's manservant. "You don't need to think about that now, Arty. You just need to rest and recuperate."
The teenager's eyes rolled and he flopped out his left hand. "Phone."
Butler frowned. "It's on your cabinet, Artemis, but you're in no state to be making phone calls."
"Text."
"Nor texts."
Artemis Senior smoothed a hand over his son's forehead. "You need to sleep, Arty. We want you back to your old self again."
The teenager could only look at him and breathe.
"Come, Butler," said the elder Fowl, standing. "We're disturbing him. He needs quiet."
The manservant bent beside his charge's head before he left, pressing a small device into his palm. "Squeeze it if you need me," he said lowly, looking into Artemis's unsteady eye-line.
The boy had been given a lot of pain-killers at the hospital and Butler knew they were obstructing his thoughts, dulling his usually razor-sharp wits. Unknown analgesics had been used to knock him out and numb him before his amputation; whoever had done it had done it humanely, apparently. Not to mention the sedatives administered when the paramedics had arrived to find him raving, screaming, near hyperventilating on the floor of the misused classroom. Butler had been spared that sight. He had seen Artemis in similar fits before, far too often, during the stages of his Atlantis Complex treatment. They were among his most painful memories.
The manservant hesitated before brushing his own, pipe-like, fingers across the teenager's brow. "I'm…" He swallowed. "I'm sorry, Artemis."
Then he stood and passed from the room.
Artemis lay there in the silence, his stump throbbing dully. He felt heavy, as if a force of invisible hands were pushing him, hard, into the mattress. His own breath rattled in his ears. He closed his eyes and immediately felt a wrench at his consciousness. His eyelids flew open.
Leech, he remembered faintly. Who's your momma?
He flopped his head to the left. There, just where Butler had said it would be, was his mobile phone.
Battling every weight in his muscles, he moved his left arm across the sheets. Soon he had to stop to pant; there was just too much drag. He looked back, gritted his teeth, and shifted the stump onto his hip. The effort brought water to his eyes but he blinked the black away and inched his left fingers closer to the table. His hand hit wood and then he had it.
He managed to unlock the menu on the sixth attempt and open the messaging app. His thumb smudged against the screen.
Wat jkdid the*7 Nek tak 6frm u?
He fumbled the send icon and waited.
A short while later the phone buzzed. He squinted at the screen, his head beginning to sink again.
One new message
Sender: Toulouse Brannagh
He clicked it open.
My leg.
And surrendered to the darkness.
Holly woke screaming.
"It's alright!" yelled Foaly, leaning over her, his hands pressing on her arms. "It's alright! Holly! Holly, calm down!"
"Did you see? Did you see her?"
No.1's gargoyle features bobbed into view. "Yes! I saw her! I saw you as well! I was in Artemis's room, and I stood behind you, and then I touched your arm–"
"Did you see Artemis murder Shinner?"
There was a strained silence. Both Foaly and No.1's eyes bulged. Then– "What?"
Holly deflated. "You didn't see it?"
"No!" exclaimed No.1. "No, we didn't see anything– anything like that. What– What are you talking about? Artemis wouldn't–"
"But I felt you. I remember seeing you."
"A girl came. She shouted at me. She was really angry and told me I was interfering–"
"I'm sorry," interrupted Foaly, "could we just go back to the whole 'Artemis murdering someone' thing – I have a feeling that we shouldn't just skip over that."
Holly sat up sharply. "Artemis murdered Annie's father," she explained. "He went to her house and found out that he'd been beating her, raping her, so he drowned him in the bath and made it look like an accident."
There was a pause. No.1 looked scandalised, horrified, whereas Foaly only sighed.
"Yep," he drawled. "Sounds consistent."
"What?" Sparks actually crackled at the tips of the little demon's horns. "What are you-? What are you talking about? Artemis wouldn't do that! He wouldn't!"
Foaly looked at him pityingly. "To be fair No.1, Artemis has done some pretty mucked up stuff in these dreams. Drowning rapists in a bath would actually be one of his more believable and morally-acceptable escapades–"
"Foaly, stop it," snapped Holly. "Ignore him, No.1. Didn't either of you see anything on the Somnimager?"
The centaur pursed his lips and turned back to his invention. "Something appeared on the screen," he said, tapping a few buttons. "It was mostly just a mess of interference, but it was definitely something. Before, I… I could see you in Artemis's room. I was following him right along with you. Then No.1 managed to materialise and he..." The centaur suddenly looked uncomfortable.
"What?" whispered Holly, dreading the reply.
"She spoke through me," said the little demon. "Annie took my mouth and used me before I could get out of the trance."
Holly felt as if she'd been punched. "What did she say?"
"She warned me. She told me that it wasn't time for me to see yet."
Holly took a few steadying breaths.
What do I do? What does she want from me now?
She could feel No.1's eyes boring into her cheek. His face was a picture of child-like despair, his scaly mouth almost comically down-turned. She didn't want to look at him.
"Foaly," she said sharply, swinging her legs back onto the bed. "Put the Somnimager back on. We'll try again."
The centaur whinnied, his forelegs actually rearing off the floor. "What? Are you serious? That girl, that thing, near possessed No.1 and showed you Artemis killing someone! Again!"
The little demon clapped his hand over his ear-holes. "Stop saying that! We know that can't be true!"
"But it is true," insisted Holly. "I was there and I saw him do it." She pulled the plungers of the Somnimager towards her. "Foaly, how the d'arvit do you turn this thing on?"
The centaur sat down firmly on her sofa. "I don't want a part of this. I should never have brought No.1 here. I should have phoned Argon's clinic the moment I left you."
"You still think I'm crazy? You've seen Annie on one of your stupid computer screens, you've heard her talk through No.1 and you still think this is just in my head?"
"I think it's evil!" retorted Foaly, his dark eyes flashing. "Yes, I was making light of it a moment ago; I didn't know what else to say! But we are talking about one of our friends here, Holly. Artemis. Artemis murdering people. Can't you see that it's wrong?"
"I told you! I'm seeing these things for a reason. Just because you're scared–"
"Aren't you?"
"Stop it!" screamed No.1, and several glass tumblers exploded inside Holly's kitchen cabinets. The elf's ribcage shuddered, her organs to trembling dangerously. She gasped and clapped a hand to her heart.
"Listen to yourselves," snapped the demon, his magic slowly dissipating from the air in purple spirals. "Can't you hear what this is doing to you?"
Foaly only glared at his old friend. "I can see what it's doing to her."
No.1 turned back to the elf. "Holly, are you sure you want to do this? I'll… I'll try again if you want me to but…"
"She'll let you in this time," she said quickly. "Last time was… personal. But I think things are coming that she wants you to know. She won't hurt you. I'm sure of it."
"Foaly?"
For a moment the centaur remain unmoved, his hairy arms folded tightly to his chest. Then he slumped. "Alright," he said. "I'll reboot the Somnimager. But if I see anything death-related or freakythen I'm pulling the plug."
Holly lay down again. No.1 repositioned himself by her head, massaging his own scaly temples with the tips of his fingers. Foaly worked quickly, pummelling buttons and turning knobs, handling his instruments with far less care than usual.
"Ready?" asked the centaur, still obviously unhappy.
The elf nodded, and the plungers sucked once more to her eye-sockets.
Holly appeared in the centre of a busy fish restaurant. Customers chatted, laughed, in some cases fought as waiters and waitresses weaved their way between the tables, balancing platters or tipping champagne bottle expertly over their arms. Lobster shells cracked and soup slooped, fish fumes and ladies perfumes mixing and searing up Holly's nostrils. It was enough to make her light-headed.
"I'm sorry."
The elf looked round. Annie stood before her, clearer now than she'd ever been. A plate smashed behind them and there was a cry of anger.
Holly frowned. "What for?"
A man at table six clicked his fingers. "Ici garçon!"
Annie shook her head. "I… haven't been treating you right. He would be angry at me."
"Yes, sir," inquired the maître de. "Is there any way that I can serve you?"
Holly was confused. "Who?"
"There isn't much left, don't worry. My life didn't last very long, and I'm only showing you the bits that matter… to me."
"Why?" asked Holly, ignoring the chaos of the restaurant going on around them.
"If the scallops are not to Sir's satisfaction I would be happy to send them back to the kitchens."
A tear crawled down the girl's cheek. "Hopefully he'll… he'll forgive me in the end."
"Why? What end? Annie! Annie!" Holly reached out to her. She was almost touching her, almost–
The short, white suited man at table six laid a speckled hand flat to the tablecloth. "Listen kid," he was saying. "I like you. In a couple of years you could have been just like me. But did you ever put a gun to someone's head and pull the trigger?"
The teenager opposite him didn't answer. He was better dressed than the last time Holly had seen him: cleaner, bereft of piercings, with his hair freshly cut and his skin clear of spots.
I put a foot in his stomach, he thought, and kicked him through a door.
The Chicagoan smirked. "No?"
The bodyguard put a hand on his young charge's shoulder, shifting him slightly to the left.
Holly's heart was speeding. She knew this scene. She had been told this one before and she knew very well how it ended. She looked around her for the dark-haired girl.
"Annie!"
"No!" shouted a man at a seemingly ruffled waiter. "I would not prefer the crayfish! I ordered scallops and I damn well want scallops!"
Someone clicked their fingers.
The heads of the maître de and the arguing diner both snapped to the left. They stood. Every diner on the restaurant floor rose to their feet, cocking weapons and flipping off safety catches. Every customer, every server, even two chefs stood in the door to the kitchens, was pointing a firearm of some form across the room at table six.
The new silence seemed almost to echo.
Spiro chuckled. "Check and mate. My game, kid."
Holly's eyes darted from gunman to gunman. The tension was building. The American was walking away. Over forty barrels were pointing in their direction.
I must say something now or we shall both die.
"Now, ladies and gentlemen," said the thirteen year old. "I'm sure we can come to an arrangement…"
The world ran like paint dribbling down a ruined canvas. A strange wind caught at the drips, causing them to tremor, briefly, before being whipped away into the dark. Holly remained where she was, watching the restaurant shift in a whirl of colour and time. Words were yelled, whispered in the cyclone.
"Rainbow."
The air was blasted apart. Holly jammed her eyes shut as her hair was slapped across her face. She raised her arms.
A boy was smiling.
"We really must talk regarding your salary…"
Crack.
Holly's chest jerked back as if she was the one who had been shot. This time the world slowed. Man and boy ploughed into the desserts trolley: a mash of pastry, sponge, syrup, and blood so dark it was almost black.
"Call me… Domovoi."
The elf felt her heart fracture with the boy's own. He was crying now, his world as unsteady as hers.
"Goodbye, Domovoi. Goodbye, my friend."
A hand dropped.
"No!"
No.
No.
No.
The word broke inside Holly, shattering her into a thousand pieces. She was scattered, fallen, strewn.
"Do not be alarmed. I am a friend to the People. My name is–"
"I know what your name is."
Heat rose up inside of her. She was standing over a metal coffin, her eyes glassy in the industrial lighting.
"When are you going to learn, Mud Boy? Your little schemes have a tendency to get people hurt!"
I know it's my fault, thought the boy.I know, damn you. And if this doesn't work then Blunt will be getting a second chance to finish the job he started!
A coin is raised, shining light in her face. The light spreads from her finger-tips. Around her, the world melts. For some, it ages. Holly blinks and suddenly the restaurant vanishes...
He is sat in the centre of an unfurnished room, legs crossed, a voice recorder perched on the straw mat before him. The window rattles and his eyes shoot open. Annie Shinner is heaving herself up over the sill, the lace of her trainer caught in the latch. She swears and stretches back to detach it before falling hard onto the tatami flooring. Artemis is there to help her back to her feet.
"You came."
"Yeah," she replies, brushing dark hair out of her eyes. The swelling has reduced across both of her cheeks, the bruising only a dull yellow. "Though you could have given me a bit more warning. I thought you was in London."
"No, and I'm sorry. I don't have much time."
Annie's eyes narrow suspiciously. Her hair is brushed, her hands and clothes clean. "What have you done?"
"Butler, he… he took a bullet for me today."
"What? Holy– Holy fuck! Is he okay? Are you okay?"
He bats her concern impatiently away. "I'm fine," he insists, "and Butler has been healed."
"Healed?" The girl knows what that word means. "You got the fairies out? Are they here?"
"Holly is away completing the ritual and Mulch is probably demolishing the second pantry–"
"Then what–?"
"Spiro took the C-Cube."
"What?"
"He'd rigged the restaurant. He never intended me to leave it alive."
"So he's got your box thing–"
"My fairy box thing. With which he could easily discover the People. And when he does… I highly doubt he'll just invite them to tea."
Annie gapes at him, unbelieving. It has been three weeks, three weeks since she last saw him. "You are… You are such a twat. What were you thinking putting something like that near Jon Spiro? Fer feck's sake, Art! You know he hires from Tuley's mum, don't you? He's a total head-banger."
"Well, thank you for that insightful analysis."
She jabs a finger in his face. "It's these fairies. Every time you mess with them your brain turns to gloop."
He almost snarls. "I don't have time for this. I'll be leaving for Chicago soon and there is a price for the fairies' assistance."
"Yeah? Got to give all the gold back have you? That's going to be difficult considering you spent it all on–"
"A mind wipe."
Annie's stomach drops. "They can't."
Artemis laughs: the noise is bitter and harsh. "Oh yes they can. Very easily. I shan't be able to avoid it."
"But that…" She looks away from him, her expression transformed. "That… would kill you."
He is confused. "What?"
"You'll just be a vegetable. You'll just sit there and dribble all day. You won't be… you without your mind."
Then he realises what she is thinking and laughs again – genuinely this time.
Her eyes narrow. "What are you snorting at? They're going to suck your brain out with a straw and you think that's funny?"
This only causes him to laugh harder, and Annie punches him hard in the stomach. He collapses onto his meditation mat, gasping.
"It's not…" he wheezes. "They're not… They only take… the fairy-related memories."
"Right, I'm leaving."
His hand shoots out and grabs her passing ankle. "No…. Please. Annie… I need you."
She scowls at him between her legs, her hands already on the window ledge. "Why?"
He coughs and releases her foot. Her skin burns slightly where he's touched her. "They're going to… make me forget all about… the People but you… you could help me remember."
She raises a thin eyebrow.
Another hoarse cough and he rises to his feet, running a hand back over his hair to neaten it. She continues to watch him suspiciously.
"I'm going to fight it," he says, looking her square in the eye. "Once wiped, my conscious self is going to come up with as many excuses and explanations as possible to avoid re-accepting the existence of fairies."
He steps closer to her.
"I have a plan–"
"What a surprise."
"– contingency plans. A 'B' plan, a 'C' plan, half a 'D' plan that has yet to be firmed up."
"And your 'A' plan?"
"You."
Annie folds her pale arms over her chest. There's a clatter from the floor below and what sounds like a giant belch.
"Me?"
"Mind wipes are not infallible. One image, one sentencefrom the right source can sometimes be enough to break them."
"And you want me to be that right source?"
"Correct."
Her brow draws inwards, hardening her face. She suddenly seems bothered, upset, like something is niggling at her.
She avoids his eyes. "And what… what if it doesn't work?"
"The mind wipe?"
"Me. My words. What if I tell you you've kidnapped a fairy and you just think I've gone bat-shit?"
"Annie…"
"I mean it. What makes my word so special?"
"Because I trust you."
Her eyes flick up. Up, now. He has grown.
"You don't trust anyone," she whispers. "You shouldn'ttrust anyone."
"But with us… with us." He is suddenly hesitant. "At least I… Don't you trust me?"
"Artemis." She is incredulous, unbelieving. "Artemis, I loveyou."
And the world smacks to a stand-still. They are frozen, stuck. Even their hearts seem somehow to have forgotten how to beat.
She is horrified.
She turns, her face fallen, her hands groping for the window ledge– for anything.
He lurches forward.
"Don't," she spits, as his hand tightens on her wrist. "Don't. Please, don't. Don't say anything–"
"Annie–"
"Don't." She wrenches back her arm. "Please. Artemis–" She breaks off.
They are quiet. Her chest is heaving.
"I didn't…" She looks at the wallpaper as if somehow her next words are written there. "I didn't… Fuck." She puts a hand to her head. "Why is this so messed up? Why is everything always so messed up with you? I kiss you and… you puke. I'm not even sure you remember doing that by the way–"
"I do."
She closes her eyes. "That's… that's just great… And…" She opens her eyes, glares at him, accusing him. "You arrive at my house like some feckin' angel in a shell suit and you're… you're stood in that bathroom, over his body and… and how am I supposed to get over that?"
His breath is unsteady. His fingers are still ringed about her arm.
"I…" He has thought about this. Of course he has. He is the boy who thinks of everything. He has attempted to predict the consequences of this. But he can't. Often, he finds he doesn't care.
But...
"I… I am not going to remember any of this in forty-eight hours."
She swears and breaks free of his grip. He heart drops.
"Annie!"
"No!"
She hardly has time to start climbing before he is at her back, pressing her into the wall, stopping her legs from rising onto the ledge.
"Annie, please–"
"Get off!"
He pulls her arms around her stomach. She stiffens, every muscle tensing. He holds her, wraps himself around her. The view outside is calm. Birds are twittering somewhere unseen, their half-written songs drifting up from the eaves. The March wind teases at Annie's hair, picking at the loose strands and brushing them across Artemis's bowed head.
Annie breathes deeply. Her eyes fix on a point somewhere down below.
Her heartbeat is raging now; Artemis can feel it through her T-shirt, keeping time with his.
"Love," he murmurs, his words slightly muffled. "Is that all this is?"
She doesn't answer.
"It is… It is too much for a four-letter word."
Silence.
"I'm sorry, Annie." He hesitates. "It is… It is just extremely strange to be admitting the love of something which is just as much a natural part of me as my hands or my eyes... my very soul."
She snorts. "I thought you didn't believe in souls?"
"I didn't before I met you. Before I saw you and realised you were mine."
Annie turns her head to look at him. Artemis raises his face from her shoulder, his expression plain, but his eyes bright and intent. Annie draws back her hands. He loosens his grip around her waist. She turns, and strands of hair sprout like crow's feathers between her fingers as she cups a hand behind his neck.
"Artemis–"
He kisses her.
It is a strange thing. Holly can still hear the movements and the noises that the children are now deaf to: the grunts, the half-protests, and the exasperated exchanges of the three figures occupying the floor down below – the fourth being still unconscious and hog-tied on the sofa. Her past self will be bending to the earth round about now, pushing her fist into the ground, remembering the time when she hadn't quite managed it…
"I love you," he breathes. "Of course I love you."
"You never told me."
"I thought you already knew."
She thumps her forehead against his chest. "You have got to stop spreading this 'genius' thing, Artemis. It just isn't true."
She leans back and looks at him.
Then there's a bang from downstairs, and a loud, dwarf-made oath.
"Mulch," says Artemis, closing his eyes. "I'd almost forgotten."
Annie tightens her grip around his back.
His smile slips. "Annie, I'm… I'm sorry, but we– I don't have time."
She won't let him go.
His arms move from her back, his hands pushing gently against her grip around his waist.
"Annie…"
"Just five more minutes."
"You can undo the mind wipe," he reasons, almost laughs. "I will remember this. I will remember this and we'll have all the... all the 'five minutes' this world can provide."
But her arms remain locked. Annie's mouth has hardened, her brow drawn. She picks her words carefully.
"But what…" She swallows. "What if you don't remember?"
He sighs. "We have been through this–"
"Not because you won't believe me but…" She finally meets his gaze. "But what if… what if you just let this moment go… along with the rest of them?"
There was a silence.
"I can't do that."
"You've got your parents back now. You don't need them anymore–"
"Annie–"
"We could go back to how we used to be! Just us and… and your parents and Butler when you want them. We've dealt with the bodies now. My dad can't hurt me. It'd just be us! No-one else! You would love me just like you say you always have and… Would that… would that be so bad?"
There was another silence.
"No," he said quietly. "No, that wouldn't be so… but I don't want to live like that Annie! I… I can't." He pulled back a little further, willing her to understand. "I need you, Anne. I need you more than I want you and God knows I want you for all time. But… but there are other things I know I neednow. They gave me back my parents, you are correct. But they have also given me perspective."
Annie was struggling. "Perspective–?"
"I almost killed Butler today. The only reason he is still living is because of Holly and her magic."
The elf's ears pricked at her name.
Annie frowns. "But he's alright now–"
"For how long?" He took another sharp step back from her. "How long till my next great scheme has him hurt or maimed or… No. Today has proved to me that I cannot continue as I am – as I was. I cannot forget them, Annie, the lessons I have learnt from them, and I especially cannot forget the events of today. Or else I risk reverting straight back to my former self. I know my family will not be enough. I need the People'sinfluence or I shall be lost again."
"Ican… I would–"
"I know you would try to help me. But you are what keeps me sane, what keeps me whole, Annie – not moral."
"So... So what?" She clapped her hands by her side. "So you want me to... to promise you or–?"
"I do not need oaths, nor contracts, from you. I have told you that I trust you. I trust that you will do this for me."
She didn't look at him.
"Annie?"
The floor darkened at her feet as he stepped back towards her. His fingers brushed at her hair, her face.
"Annie."
Her head snapped up.
And Artemis briefly contemplated never eating again; he would live happy for the rest of his days with only this taste in his mouth. Her taste. She was kissing him like she never would again…
I am not going to remember any of this in forty-eight hours.
When they pulled back, the boy was smiling.
"Thank you," he whispered, his forehead pressed against hers.
Annie didn't answer, and Holly heard her heart fracture like a bird's wing caught in a vice.
Hmm, saddest chapter yet I think :(
This is only sort of semi beta'd so apologies if there are a lot of mistakes. The bit at the beginning, the 'verbal extract', I've actually had written for about two years. Wrote it to Jeff Buckley's cover of 'Hallelujah' if anyone wants to go listen and make themselves cry.
This is actually a chopped down version of the original plan for chapter thirteen... I'm beginning to realise that I'm going to have to maybe put an extra chapter in this... So three chapters left now? Sorry guys, there's obviously just so much to tie up and I want to do it properly.
This chapter is dedicated to Shadow Huntress - as without her nagging this wouldn't be posted today :P
Next chapter: The birthday party I promised previously and THE argument.
NOW PLEASE REVIEW! THIS THING TAKES EFFORT AND I KNOW YOU'RE ALL NICE PEOPLE! :D
P.S. This is a shout out to any readers who are also artists - I'm loving the fact that you can put up picture covers of your fanfics now. If there are any readers with a talent for art who fancy doing something for this - a scene from the story or maybe just a general cover - that would be INCREDIBLY epic. So please PM me if you're up for it :)