“Any theories, Foaly?”
“I can’t be sure,” the centaur replied. “But I’m guessing that Holly’s magic wasn’t enough. Some of Butler’s own life force was needed for the healing. About fifteen years’ worth, by the looks of it.”
“Can anything be done?”
“Afraid not. A healing can’t be undone. If it’s any consolation, he’ll probably live longer than he would have naturally. But there’s no reclaiming his youth, and what’s more, we can’t be sure about the state of his mind. The healing could have wiped his brain cleaner than a magnetized disk.”
Artemis sighed deeply. “What have I done to you, old friend?”
“No time for that,” said Holly briskly. “You both should get out of here. I’m sure all the commotion will have attracted attention. Do you have transport?”
“No. We flew over on a public flight. Then took a taxi from Heathrow.”
Holly shrugged. “I’d like to help, Artemis. But I’ve already given up enough time here. I’m on a mission.
An extremely important mission, and I have to get back o it.”
Artemis stepped away from the cryo unit.
“Holly, about your mission . . .”
Captain Short turned slowly.
“Artemis . . .”
“You were probed, weren’t you? Something got past Foaly’s defenses?”
Holly pulled a large sheet of camouflage foil from her surveillance backpack. “We need to go somewhere to talk. Somewhere private.”
The following forty-five minutes were something of a blur to Artemis. Holly wrapped both humans in camouflage foil from her surveillance pack and clipped them onto a Moonbelt. The belt effectively reduced their weight to one sixth of Earth’s norm.
Even then it was a struggle for her mechanical wings to hoist the three of them into the night sky. Holly had to open the throttle wide just to bring them five hundred feet above sea level.
“I’m going to shield now,” she said into her mike. “Try not to thrash about too much. I don’t want to have to cut one of you loose.”
Then she was gone, and in her place hovered a slightly shimmering Holly-shaped patch of stars. The vibration rattled through the belt links, shaking Artemis’s teeth in his head.
Artemis felt like a bug in a cocoon, trussed up in foil with only his face exposed to the night air. Initially the experience was almost enjoyable; riding high above the city watching the cars flicker along the motorways. Then Holly picked up a westerly wind and threw them into the air currents over the English channel.
Suddenly, Artemis’s universe was a maelstrom of cutting wind, buffeted passengers, and startled birds. Beside him, Butler hung limply in his makeshift foil truss. The foil absorbed the local colors, reflecting the dominant hues. It was by no means a perfect re-creation of the surroundings, but certainly good enough for a night flight across the channel to Ireland.
“Is this foil invisible to radar?” said Artemis into the headset. “I don’t want to be mistaken for a UFO by some eager Harrier jump-jet pilot.”
Holly considered it. “You’re right. Maybe I should take us down a bit, just in case.”
Two seconds later, Artemis deeply regretted breaking radio silence. Holly tilted her wing rig into a steep dive, sending the three of them hurtling toward the midnight waves below. She pulled up at the last moment, when Artemis could have sworn the skin was about to peel from his face.
“Low enough for you?” asked Holly, with the barest hint of humor in her voice.
They skimmed the wave tops, spray sparking against the camouflage foil. The ocean was rough that night, and Holly followed the water patterns, dipping and climbing to match the swell’s curve. A school of humpback whales sensed Holly’s presence and broke through the storm foam, leaping fully thirty meters across a trough before disappearing beneath the black water. There were no dolphins. The small mammals were taking shelter from the elements in the inlets and coves along the Irish coast.
Holly skirted the hull of a passenger ferry, flying close enough to feel the engine’s pulse. On deck, scores of passengers vomited over the railings, narrowly missing the invisible travelers below.
“Charming,” muttered Artemis.
“Don’t worry,” said Holly’s voice, out of thin air. “Almost there.”
They passed Rosslare’s ferry terminal, following the coastline northward, over the Wicklow Mountains. Even in his disoriented state, Artemis could not help but marvel at their speed. Those wings were a fantastic invention. Imagine the money that could be made for a patent like that. Artemis stopped himself. Selling fairy technology was what had got Butler hurt in the first place.
They slowed sufficiently for Artemis to make out individual landmarks. Dublin squatted to the east, an aura of yellow light buzzing over its highway system. Holly skirted the city, heading for the less populated north of the county. In the center of a large dark patch, sat a single building, painted white by external spotlights: Artemis’s ancestral home. Fowl Manor.