Artemis Fowl_ The Opal Deception - Eoin Colfer [58]
The current was strong out in the center of the river, and drew the pair quickly downstream. The trolls followed along, some hurling small missiles into the water. One clipped Holly’s plastic log, almost dislodging her.
She spat out a mouthful of water. “We need a plan, Artemis. That’s your department. I got us this far.”
“Oh yes, well done, you,” said Artemis, having apparently recovered his sense of sarcasm. He raked wet strands of hair from his eyes and cast around, beyond the melee on the waterline. The temple was huge, throwing an elongated multipronged shadow across the desert area. The interior was wide open, with no obvious shelter from the trolls. The only deserted spot was the temple roof.
“Can trolls climb?” he spluttered.
Holly followed his gaze. “Yes, if they have to, like big monkeys. But only if they have to.”
Artemis frowned. “If only I could remember,” he said. “If only I knew what I know.”
Holly kicked over to him, grasping his collar. They swirled in the white water, bubbles and froth squeezing between their logs.
“If only is no good, Mud Boy. We need a plan before the filter.”
“The filter?”
“This is an artificial river. It’s filtered through a central tank.”
A bulb went on in Artemis’s brain. “A central tank. That’s our way out.”
“We’ll be killed! I have no idea how long we’ll be underwater.”
Artemis took one last look around, measuring, calculating. “Given the present circumstances, there is no other option.”
Up ahead, the currents began to circle, pulling in any rubbish picked up from the banks. A small whirlpool formed in the middle of the river. The sight of it seemed to calm the trolls. They gave up on the butting and banging, and settled down to watch. Some moved along the bank; these would later prove to be the clever ones.
“We follow the current,” shouted Artemis over the hiss. “We follow it and hope.”
“That’s it? That’s your brilliant plan?” Holly’s suit crackled as the water wormed its way into the circuits.
“It’s not so much a plan as a lifesaving strategy,” retorted Artemis. He would have said more but the river interrupted him, snatching him away from his elfin companion into the whirlpool.
He felt about as significant as a twig in the face of such power. If he tried to resist the water, it would slap the air from his lungs like a bully slapping his victim. Artemis’s chest was compressed; even when his gasping mouth was above water, he could not force adequate amounts of air into his lungs. His brain was starved of oxygen. He couldn’t think straight. Everything was curved. The swirl of his body, the sweep of the water. White circles on blue ones on green ones. His feet dancing little Möbius strip patterns below his body. Riverdance. Ha-ha.
Holly was before him, pinioning the two logs between them. A makeshift raft. She shouted something, but it was lost. There was only water now. Water and confusion.
She held up three fingers. Three seconds. Then they were going under. Artemis breathed as deeply as his constricted chest would allow. Two fingers now. Then one.
Artemis and Holly let go of their logs and the current sucked them under like spiders down a drain. Artemis fought to hold on to his air, but the buffeting water squeezed it from between his lips. Bubbles spiraled behind them, racing for the surface.
The water was not so deep or dark. But it was fast and would not allow many images to stand still long enough to be identified. Holly’s face flashed past Artemis, but all he could make out were big hazel eyes.
The whirlpool’s funnel grew narrower, forcing Holly and Artemis together. They were swept diagonally down in a flurry of bumping torsos and flapping limbs. They pressed their foreheads together, finding some comfort in each other’s eyes. But it was short lived. Their progress was brutally cut short by a metal grille covering the drainage pipe. They slammed into it, feeling the sharp wire leave indents on their skin.
Holly slapped at the grille, then wormed her fingers through the holes. The grille was shiny and new. Fresh weld