All minds play tricks. Even mine. The perceived cold is a projection of my mood, nothing more.
His parents’ bedroom was rectangular in shape, stretching along the west wing from front to rear. It was actually more of an apartment than a room, with a lounge area and office corner. The large four-poster bed was angled so that tinted light from a medieval stained-glass porthole would fall across the studded headboard in summer.
Artemis placed his feet carefully on the rug, like a ballet dancer, avoiding the vine pattern in the weave.
Step on a vine, count to nine.
Bad luck was the last thing he needed.
Angeline Fowl was splayed on the bed, as though thrown there. Her head was angled back so sharply that the line from her neck to her chin was almost straight, and her skin was pale enough to seem translucent.
She’s not breathing, thought Artemis, panic fluttering in his chest like a caged bird. I was wrong. I am too late.
Then his mother’s entire frame convulsed as she dragged down a painful breath.
Artemis’s resolve almost left him. His legs were boneless rubber and his forehead burned.
This is my mother. How can I do what needs to be done?
But he would do it. There wasn’t anyone else who could.
Artemis reached his mother’s side and gently pushed strands of hair back from her face.
“I am here, Mother. Everything will be fine. I found a cure.”
Somehow, Angeline Fowl heard her son’s words, and her eyes flickered open. Even her irises had lost their color, fading to the ice blue of a winter lake.
“Cure,” she sighed. “My little Arty found the cure.”
“That’s right,” said Artemis. “Little Arty found the cure. It was the lemur. Remember, the Madagascan lemur from Rathdown Park?”
Angeline raised a bone-thin finger, tickling the air before Jayjay’s nose. “Little lemur. Cure.”
Jayjay, unsettled by the bedridden woman’s skeletal appearance, ducked behind Artemis’s head.
“Nice lemur,” said Angeline, a weak smile twitching her lips.
I am the parent now, thought Artemis. She is the child.
“Can I hold him?”
Artemis took a half-step back. “No, Mother. Not yet. Jayjay is a very important creature. This little fellow could save the world.”
Angeline spoke through her teeth. “Let me hold him. Just for a moment.”
Jayjay crawled down the back of Artemis’s jacket, as though he understood the request and did not want to be held.
“Please, Arty. It would comfort me to hold him.”
Artemis nearly handed the lemur over. Nearly.
“Holding him will not cure you, Mother. I need to inject some fluid into one of your veins.”
Angeline seemed to be regaining her strength. She inched backward, sliding her head up the headboard. “Don’t you want to make me happy, Arty?”
“I prefer healthy to happy for the moment,” said Artemis, making no move to hand over the lemur.
“Don’t you love me, son?” crooned Angeline. “Don’t you love your mommy?”
Artemis moved briskly, tearing open the medi-kit and closing his fingers around the transfusion gun, a single tear rolling down his pale cheek.
“I love you, Mother. I love you more than life. If you could only know what I have been through to find little Jayjay. Just be still for five seconds, then this nightmare will be over.”
Angeline’s eyes were crafty slits. “I don’t want you to inject me, Artemis. You’re not a trained nurse. Wasn’t there a doctor here, or was I dreaming that?”
Artemis primed the gun, waiting for the charge light to flash green. “I have administered shots before, Mother. I gave you your medicine more than once the last time you were . . . ill.”
“Artemis!” snapped Angeline, the flat of her hand slapping the sheet. “I demand that you give the lemur to me now! This instant! And summon the doctor.”
Artemis plucked a vial from the medi-kit. “You are hysterical, Mother. Not yourself. I think I should give you a sedative before I administer the antidote.” He slid the vial into the gun and reached for his mother’s arm.
“No,” Angeline virtually screeched, slapping him away with surprising strength. “Don’t touch me with your LEP sedatives, you stupid boy.”
Artemis froze.“LEP, Mother? What do you know of the LEP?”
Angeline tugged her lip, a guilty child. “What? Did I say LEP? Three letters, no more. They mean nothing to me.”
Artemis took another step away from the bed, gathering Jayjay protectively in his arms.
“Tell me the truth, Mother. What is happening here?”
Angeline abandoned her innocent act, pounding the mattress with delicate fists and squealing in frustration.
“I despise you, Artemis Fowl. You bothersome human. How I loathe you.”
Not words one expects to hear from one’s mother.