“Stupid time travel,” muttered the dwarf. “Told you all about it myself, I suppose.”
“You will,”confirmed Holly.“And I don’t see what you’re so upset about. It’s not as if I can report you to anyone.”
“True,” admitted Mulch. “And there is all that lovely loot.”
The three sat in a stolen Mini Cooper outside the boundary fence of the McGraney farm, underneath which was concealed the Tara shuttleport. Thirty thousand cubic feet of terminal hidden by a dairy farm. The first light of dawn was diluting the darkness, and the lumpy silhouettes of grazing cows ambled across the meadow. In a year or two, Tara would become a bustling tourist hub for the fairies, but for the moment, all tourism had been suspended since the Spelltropy outbreak.
Mulch squinted at the nearest beast through the back window. “You know something, I’m a tad peckish. I couldn’t eat a whole cow, but I’d put a fair dent in one.”
“Mulch Diggums hungry. Stop the presses,” commented Artemis drily. He opened the driver’s door and stepped onto the grassy verge. A light mist clung to his face, and the clean smell of country air ran through his system like a stimulant.
“We need to get going. I have no doubt that the lemur is already twenty thousand feet in the air.”
“That’s a nimble lemur,” sniggered the dwarf. He climbed over the front seat, tumbling onto the verge.
“Nice clay,” he said, giving the ground a lick. “Tastes like profit.”
Holly stepped from the passenger seat and sideswiped Mulch’s behind with her loafer.
“There will be no profit for you if we can’t get into the terminal unseen.”
The dwarf picked himself up. “I thought we were supposed to be friends. Easy with the kicking and the punching. Are you always this aggressive?”
“Can you do it or not?”
“Of course I can. I said so, didn’t I? I’ve been running around this terminal for years. Ever since my cousin—” Artemis butted in on the conversation. “Ever since your cousin Nord, if I’m not mistaken. Ever since Nord was arrested on pollution charges, and you broke him out. We know. We know everything about you. Now, let’s move on with the plan.”
Mulch turned his back to Artemis, casually unbuttoning his bum-flap. This action was among the worst insults in a dwarf’s arsenal. Second only to what was known as the Tuba, which involves a cleaning of the pipes in someone’s direction. Wars have been fought over the Tuba.
“Moving on, chief. Stay here for fifteen minutes, then make your way to the main entrance. I would take you with me, but this tunnel is too long to hold things in, if you catch my drift.” He paused for a wink. “And if you stand too close, that’s exactly what you’ll be catching.”
Artemis smiled through gritted teeth. “Very well. Most amusing. Fifteen minutes it is, Mr. Diggums, the clock is ticking.”
“Ticking?” said Mulch. “Fairy clocks haven’t ticked for centuries.”
Then he unhinged his jaw and leaped with astonishing grace, diving into the earth like a dolphin slicing through a wave, but without the sunny disposition or cute grin.
Though Artemis had seen this a dozen times, he could not help being impressed.
“What a species,” he commented. “If they could take their minds off their stomachs for a few minutes, they could rule the world.”
Holly climbed onto the hood of the car, rested her back against the windshield, feeling the sun on her cheeks.
“Maybe they don’t want to rule the world. Maybe that’s just you, Arty.”
Arty.
Guilt gnawed at Artemis’s stomach. He gazed at Holly’s fine familiar features and realized that he couldn’t keep lying to her any longer.
“It’s a pity we had to steal this car,” continued Holly, eyes closed. “But the note we left was clear enough. The owner should find it without a problem.”
Artemis didn’t feel so bad about the car. He had bigger nails in his coffin.
“Yes, the car,” he said absently.
I need to tell her. I have to tell her.
Artemis put a toe on the Mini’s front tire and climbed onto the hood beside Holly. He sat there for a few minutes, concentrating on the experience. Storing it away.
Holly glanced at him sitting next to her. “Sorry about earlier. You know, the thing.”
“The kiss?”
Holly closed her eyes. “Yes. I don’t know what’s happening to me. We’re not even the same species. And when we go back, we will be ourselves again.” Holly covered her face with her free hand. “Listen to me. Babbling. The LEP’s first female captain. That time stream has turned me into what you would call a teenager again.”
It was true. Holly was different: the time stream had brought them closer together.
“What if I’m stuck like this? That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”
The question hung in the air between them. A question heavy with insecurity and hope.
If you answer this question, it will be the worst thing you have ever done.