Artemis Fowl: The Opal Deception

Hey, Mulch, he wheezed. What are you going to do when your appeal is turned down? Are you gonna crack up like a little girl? Or are you gonna take it real stoic, like a dwarf should?

 

Mulch smiled, exposing his unfeasibly large number of teeth. Dont worry about me, fishboy. Ill be eating one of your cousins by tonight.

 

Generally the sight of Mulchs tombstone teeth was enough to freeze any smart alec comments, but the marshal was not used to backchat from an inmate.

 

Keep at it with the big mouth, dwarf. I have plenty of rocks for you to chew, back in the Deeps.

 

In your dreams, fishboy, retorted Mulch, enjoying the banter after months of kowtowing.

 

The officer rose to his feet. Its Vishby, the name is Vishby.

 

Yes, fishboy, thats what I said.

 

The second officer, a water sprite with batlike wings folded behind his back, chuckled. Leave him alone, Vishby. Dont you know who youre talking to? This here is Mulch Diggums. The most famous thief under the world.

 

Mulch smiled, though fame is not a good thing when youre a thief.

 

This guy has a whole list of genius moves to his credit.

 

Mulchs smile faded as he realized that he was about to be the butt of more jokes.

 

Yeah, so first he steals the Jules Rimet trophy from the humans and tries to sell it to an undercover LEP fairy.

 

Vishby sat, rubbing his hands in glee. You dont say? What a brain! How does it fit inside that itty-bitty head?

 

The sprite strutted along the shuttles aisle, delivering his lines like an actor. So then he lifts some of the Artemis Fowl gold, and he lies low in Los Angeles. And do you want to know how he lies low?

 

Mulch groaned.

 

Tell me, wheezed Vishby, his gills unable to suck in air fast enough.

 

He buys hisself a penthouse apartment, and starts building a collection of stolen Academy Awards.

 

Vishby laughed until his gills flapped.

 

Mulch could take it no longer. He shouldnt have to put up with this, he was virtually a free fairy, for goodness sake. Hisself? Hisself? I think youve spent a bit too long underwater. The pressure is squashing your brain.

 

My brain is squashed? said the sprite. Im not the one who spent a couple of centuries in prison. Im not the one wearing manacles and a mouth ring.

 

It was true. Mulchs criminal career had not exactly been an unqualified success. He had been caught more often than hed escaped. The LEP were just too technologically advanced to evade. Maybe it was time to go straight, while he still had his looks.

 

Mulch shook the manacles that shackled him to a rail in the holding area. I wont be wearing these for long.

 

Vishby opened his mouth to respond, then he paused. A plasma screen was flashing red on a wall panel. Red was urgent. There was an important message coming through. Vishby hooked an earphone over his ear, turning the screen away from Mulch. As the message was delivered, his face lost every trace of levity.

 

Several moments later he tossed the headphones on to the console. It looks like youll be wearing those chains for a bit longer than you thought.

 

Mulchs jaw strained against the steel mouth ring. Why? Whats happened?

 

Vishby scratched a strip of gill-rot on his neck. I shouldnt be telling you this, convict, but Commander Root has been murdered.

 

Mulch couldnt have been more shocked if they had connected him to the underworld grid.

 

Murdered? How?

 

Explosion, said Vishby. Another LEP officer is the prime suspect. Captain Holly Short. Shes missing, presumed dead, on the surface, but that hasnt been confirmed.

 

Im not a bit surprised, said the water sprite. Females are too temperamental for police work. They couldnt even handle a simple transport job like this.

 

Mulch was in shock. He felt as though his brain had snapped its moorings and was spinning inside his head. Holly murdered Julius? How could that be possible? It wasnt possible, simple as that. There must be a mistake. And now Holly was missing, presumed dead. How could this be happening?

 

Anyways, continued Vishby, we gotta turn this crate round and head back to Atlantis. Obviously your little hearing is being postponed indefinitely, until this entire mess gets sorted out.

 

The water sprite slapped Mulch playfully on the cheek. Tough break, dwarf. Maybe theyll get the red tape untangled in a couple of years.

 

Mulch barely felt the slap, though the words penetrated. A couple of years. Could he take a couple of years in the Deeps? Already his soul was crying out for the tunnels. He needed to feel soft earth between his fingers. His insides needed real roughage to clear them out. And, of course, there was a chance that Holly was still alive and needed help. A friend. He had no option but to escape.

 

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