Free The Lost Colony by Eoin Colfer Page A

lend a hand. It was a vain hope. The two demons were huddled at the head of the classroom, poring over Lady Heatherington Smythe’s Hedgerow .
    Eventually, N o 1 rolled his last classmate into the dung pit. They were piled in there like meat in a thick stew. The nutrient-rich dung would accelerate their warp, ensuring they reached full potential. N o 1 sat on the stone floor, catching his breath.
    Lucky you, thought N o 1. Dunked in dung.
    N o 1 tried to feel envious, but even being near the pit made him gag; the thoughts of being immersed in it, surrounded by cocooned imps, made his stomach churn.
    A shadow fell across the flagstones before him, flickering in the firelight.
    “Ah, N o 1,” said Abbot. “Always an imp, never a demon, eh? What am I going to do with you?”
    N o 1 stared at his own feet, clicking his baby talons on the floor.
    “Master Abbot, sir. Don’t you think? Isn’t there the tiniest chance?” He took a deep breath and raised his eyes to meet Abbot’s. “Couldn’t I be a warlock? You saw what happened with the skewer. I don’t want to embarrass you, but you saw it.”
    Abbot’s expression changed instantly. One second he was playing the genial master, the next his true colors shone through.
    “I saw nothing,” he hissed, heaving N o 1 to his feet. “Nothing happened, you odious little freak of nature. The skewer was coated with ash, nothing more. There was no transformation. No magic.”
    Abbot drew N o 1 close enough to see the slivers of trapped meat between his yellowed teeth. The next time he spoke, his voice seemed different somehow. Layered. As though an entire choir were singing in harmony. It was a voice that could not be ignored. Magical?
    “If you are a warlock. Then you should really be on the other side, with your relative. Wouldn’t that be for the best? One quick leap, that’s all it would take. Do you understand what I am saying to you, Runt?”
    N o 1 nodded, dazed. What a lovely voice. Where had that come from? The other side—of course that’s where he should go. One small step for an imp.
    “I understand, sir.”
    “Good. The subject is closed. As Lady Heatherington Smythe would say,‘Best foot forward, young sir, the world awaits.’”
    N o 1 nodded just as he knew Abbot wanted him to, but inside, his brain churned along with his stomach. Was this to be the whole extent of his life? Forever mocked, forever different. Never a moment of light or hope. Unless he crossed over.
    Abbot’s suggestion was his only hope. Cross over . N o 1 had never seen the appeal of jumping into a crater before, but now the notion seemed nigh on irresistible. He was a warlock, there couldn’t be any doubt. And somewhere out there, in the human world, there was another like him. An ancient brother who could teach him the ways of his kind.
    N o 1 watched Abbot stride away. Off to exercise his power on some other part of the island, possibly by belittling the females in the compound, another of his favorite pastimes. Then again, how bad could Abbot be? After all, he had given N o 1 this wonderful idea.
    I cannot stay here, thought N o 1. I must go to the volcano.
    The notion took firm hold of his brain. And in minutes it had drowned out all the other notions in his head.
    Go to the volcano.
    It pounded inside his skull, like waves breaking on the shore.
    Obey Abbot. Go to the volcano.
    N o 1 brushed the dust from his knees.
    “You know what,” he muttered to himself, in case Rawley could hear. “I think I’m going to the volcano.”

CHAPTER 4
MISSION IMPOSSIBLE
The Bellini Theatre, Catania, Southern Sicily
    Artemis Fowl and his bodyguard, Butler, relaxed in a private box at the stage-left side of Sicily’s world-famous Bellini Theatre. Perhaps it is not altogether accurate to say Butler relaxed . Rather, he appeared to relax, as a tiger appears to relax in the moment before it strikes.
    Butler was even less happy here than he had been in Barcelona. At least for the Spain trip