Artemis Fowl_ The Arctic Incident - Eoin Colfer [16]
A picture of Fowl appeared beside Frond, a digitally enhanced scowl on his face.
‘His accomplice, known only as Butler, is not to be approached under any circumstances. He is generally armed and always dangerous.’
Butler’s massive head appeared beside the two other images. Armed and dangerous hardly did him justice. He was the only human in history to have taken on a troll and won.
Holly sent the co-ordinates to the flight computer and let the wings do the steering for her. The countryside sped by below. Even since her last visit, the Mud People infestation seemed to have taken a stronger hold. There was barely an acre of land without dozens of their dwellings digging into its soil, and barely a mile of river without one of their factories pouring its poison into the waters.
The sun finally dipped below the horizon and Holly raised the filters on her visor. Time was on her side now. She had the entire night to come up with a plan. Holly found that she missed Foaly’s sarcastic comments in her ear. Annoying as the centaur’s observations were, they generally proved accurate and had saved her hide on more than one occasion. She tried to establish a link, but the flares were still high and there was no reception. Nothing but static.
Fowl Manor loomed in the distance, completely dominating the surrounding landscape. Holly scanned the building with her thermal bar and found nothing but insect and small rodent life forms. Spiders and mice. Nobody home. That suited her fine. She landed on the head of a particularly gruesome stone gargoyle, and settled in to wait.
FOWL MANOR, DUBLIN, IRELAND
The original Fowl castle had been built by Lord Hugh Fowl in the fifteenth century, overlooking low-lying country on all sides. A tactic borrowed from the Normans: never let your enemies sneak up on you. Over the centuries, the castle had been extensively remodelled until it became a manor, but the attention to security remained. The manor was surrounded by metre-thick walls, and wired with a state-of-the-art security system.
Butler pulled off the road, opening the estate gates with a remote. He glanced back at his employer’s pensive face. Sometimes he thought that, in spite of all his contacts, informants and employees, Artemis Fowl was the loneliest boy he’d ever met.
‘We could bring a couple of those fairy blasters,’ he said.
Butler had relieved LEPretrieval One of their weaponry during the previous year’s siege.
Artemis nodded. ‘Good idea, but remove the nuclear batteries and put the blasters in a bag with some old games and books. We can pretend they’re toys if we’re captured.’
‘Yes, sir. Good thinking.’
The Bentley Red Label crunched up the driveway, activating the ground’s security lights. There were several lamps on in the main house. These were on randomly alternating timers.
Butler undid his seat belt, stepping lithely from the Bentley.
‘You need anything special, Artemis?’
Artemis nodded. ‘Grab some caviar from the kitchen. You wouldn’t believe the muck they feed us in Bartleby’s for ten thousand a term.’
Butler smiled again. A teenager asking for caviar. He’d never get used to it.
The smile withered on his lips halfway to the recently remodelled entrance. A shiver passed across his heart. He knew that feeling well. His mother used to say that someone had just walked over his grave. A sixth sense. Gut instinct. There was peril somewhere. Invisible, but here nevertheless.
Holly spotted the headlights raking the sky from over a mile away. Optix were no good from this vantage point. Even when the automobile’s windscreen came into view, the glass was tinted and the shadows beyond were deep. She felt her heart rate increase at the sight of Fowl’s car.
The Bentley wound along the avenue, flickering between the rows of willow and horse chestnut. Holly ducked instinctively, though she was completely shielded from human eyes. You couldn’t be certain with Artemis Fowl’s manservant. Last year Artemis