An eagle swooped by, its feathers raking Artemis’s cheek. A muskrat clambered along his torso, hopping to the rising platform.
There was light above. The sickly wavering beams of a faulty strip light. But light nevertheless.
“Come on, girl,” said Artemis, feeling very much the cowboy. “Yee-haw.”
The Extinctionists gathered aroun Tommy Kirkenhazard’s raised finger, listening intently as if the noise emanated from inside the finger.
“Ah, I don’t hear nothing,” admitted Tommy. “I must have been dreaming. After all, it’s been a stressful night for human-lovers.”
Then the lodge burst open, and the Extinctionists were utterly engulfed in a sea of beasts.
Kirkenhazard went down under a couple of Chacma baboons, vainly pulling the trigger on his empty gun and shouting over and over: “But we killed you, darn it. We killed you.”
Though there would be no fatalities in the compound that night, eighteen people were hospitalized with bites, skin burns, broken bones, and various infestations. Kirkenhazard fared the worst. The baboons ate his gun and the hand holding it, and then turned the unfortunate man over to a groggy tiger, who found himself waking in a very bad mood.
Not one of the Extinctionists noticed a small, dark craft rising silently from behind one of the chalets. It flew across the central park and scooped up a long-haired youth from the back of what looked like a small striped donkey. The craft spun in a tight arc like a stone in a sling, then hurtled into the night sky as though it had to be somewhere in a real hurry.
Pedicures, and indeed all spa treatments, were canceled for the next day.
Opal was desolate to find that, on top of everything else, her boots were ruined.
“What is that stain?” she demanded of Mervall and his recently liberated twin, Descant.
“Dunno,” muttered Descant, who was still a bit moody from his time in the cage.
“It’s a dropping of some kind,” volunteered Mervall quickly. “Judging from the size and texture, I would say one of the big cats got a little nervous.”
Opal sat on a bench and extended the boot. “Pull it off, Mervall.”
She placed her sole on Mervall’s forehead and pushed until he tumbled backward, clutching the dropping-laden footwear.
“That Mud Boy. He knows about my lemur. We must follow him. He is tagged, I take it.”
“Oh yes,” confirmed Mervall. “All the newcomers are sprayed on landing. There’s a radioactive tracer in his every pore right now. Harmless, but there’s nowhere on this planet that he can hide from us.”
“Good. Excellent, in fact. I think of everything, do I not?”
“You do, mistress,” droned Descant. “Brilliant, you are. Astounding is your fabulosity.”
“Why, thank you, Descant,” said Opal, as ever oblivious to sarcasm. “And I thought you’d be upset after the pigpen. Fabulosity isn’t a word, by the way. In case you’re thinking of writing how wonderful I am in your diary.”
“Point taken,” Descant said seriously.
Opal offered her other foot to Mervall. “Good. Now set the self-destructs on this place and let’s get the shuttle prepped. I want to find this human and kill him immediately. We were too nice last time, with the leeches. This time, immediate death.”
Mervall winced. He was holding two boots covered in tiger droppings, and he’d prefer to wear those than be in that human’s shoes.
Artemis lay flat on his back in the cargo hold, wondering it he could possibly have dreamed the past few minutes. Superleeches, sleeping tigers, and a grumpy quagga.
He felt the floor vibrate beneath him and knew that they were moving at several times the speed of sound. Suddenly the vibration disappeared, to be replaced by a far more sedate hum. They were slowing down!
Artemis hurried to the cockpit, where Holly was glaring at a readout as if she could change the information displayed there. Jayjay was in the copilot’s seat and seemed to be in charge of steering.
Artemis pointed at the lemur. “This may seem like a silly question, but is Jayjay . . .”
“No. Autopilot. And nice to see you alive, by the way. You’re welcome for the rescue.”
Artemis touched her shoulder. “Once again, I owe you my life. Now, I hate to move directly from gratitude to petulance, but why have we slowed down? Time is running out. We had three days, remember? There are only hours left.”
Holly tapped the readout. “We were pinged by something at the compound. Someone’s computers have downloaded our schematics. Can you tell me any more about that?”
“Opal Koboi,” said Artemis. “Opal is behind everything. She’s harvesting animal fluids to increase her own magic. If she gets her hands on Jayjay, she’ll be invincible.”
Holly did not have time to be incredulous. “That’s wonderful. Opal Koboi. I knew this little trip was missing a psychotic element. If Opal pinged us, then she’ll be on our tail in something a little more war-worthy than this clunker.”
“Shields?”
“Nothing much. We might fool human radar but not fairy scanners.”