The Last Guardian

Artemis rolled to his knees. “Humans are no threat to you, Opal. Most of us don’t even know fairies exist.”

 

 

“Oh, they do now. Our shuttleports are all wide open without their shields. I have revealed our existence to the Mud People, so now there is no choice but to eliminate them. It’s simple logic.”

 

Juliet placed a foot on Artemis’s back, flattening him to the earth. “He is dangerous, my queen. And if the elf traitor wakes, she could harm you.”

 

Opal pointed at the terra-cotta warriors. “You restrain the elf, and have those moving statues hold the boy. Mommy wishes to do a little grandstanding. It’s clichéd, I know, but after this I’ll probably have to be regal and selfless in public.”

 

Juliet lifted Holly by the scruff of the neck, easily hefting her aloft. Two Chinese warriors pinioned Artemis between them, holding him powerless in their grips of baked clay, with only his hands and feet mobile.

 

He can do nothing, thought Opal, satisfied.

 

“Bring them here,” she commanded. “I want them both to see me cleanse the planet.”

 

Artemis struggled ineffectually, but Holly’s head lolled in its hood, which was a little annoying for Opal, as she would have preferred to see the elf wide awake and terrified.

 

Opal positioned herself by the raised dais, tapping her fingers on the stone like a concert pianist. She worked on the Berserker Gate as she spoke, dipping her hands into the rock, which became molten where she touched.

 

“Humans had magic once,” she said. Perhaps she should gag Artemis’s smart mouth in case he contaminated her buoyant mood with some of his snide observations. Though by the vacant look on this Mud Boy’s face, the snide had been beaten out of him.

 

“That’s right. Humans wielded magic almost as well as demons. That’s why Bruin Fadda put so many hexes on this lock. His reasoning being that if any human grew powerful enough to decipher the enchantments, then Bruin had no choice but to unleash the power of Danu, for the good of the People.” Opal smiled fondly at the Berserker Gate. “It looks simple now, like a child’s toy,” she said. “Just two handprints on a rock table. But the computations I had to work out. Foaly could never have managed it, I can tell you. That ridiculous centaur has no idea what it took to solve this puzzle: enchanted runes in several dimensions, quantum physics, magic math. I doubt there are four people in the world who could have brought that old fool Bruin back to life. And I had to do it all mentally. Without screens or paper. Some of it telepathically, through my younger self. You know, I didn’t even lose my memories when she died, and I thought I would. Strange, isn’t it?”

 

Artemis did not reply. He had retreated into bruised sulky silence.

 

“So here’s how it works,” said Opal brightly, as though explaining a math problem to her kindergarten group. “If I choose the first handprint, then I close the gate forever and all fairy souls inside the circle are released—except mine, of course, as I am protected by black magic. But if I choose the scary red hand, then the power of Danu is unleashed, but on humans only. It’s a pity we won’t see too much from here, but at least I can watch you die and imagine the magic’s effect on everyone else.”

 

Artemis wrenched one arm free of the clay warrior’s grip, tearing his sleeve and a layer of flesh. Before anyone could react, he placed his own hand in the Berserker Gate’s first lock.

 

Of course nothing happened, aside from Opal barking with laughter.

 

“You don’t understand, stupid boy. Only I can choose. Not you, not that pathetic centaur, Foaly, not your little elf friend. Only Opal Koboi. That is the whole point. She who opens the lock controls the gate. It is coded right down to my very DNA.” Opal’s tiny face grew purple with self-importance and her pointed chin shook. “I am the messiah. And I will shed blood so that the People may worship me. I will build my temple around this silly gate that leads nowhere and they can parade school tours past to learn about me.”

 

Artemis had a single strand of defiance left in him.

 

“I could close it,” he grunted. “Given a few minutes.”

 

Opal was nonplussed. “You could…you could close it? Weren’t you listening? Didn’t I make it simple enough? No one can close it but me.”

 

Artemis seemed unimpressed. “I could figure it out. One more hour, ten minutes even. Holly is a fairy, she has magic. I could have used her hand and my brain. I know I could. How difficult could it be if you managed it? You’re not even as smart as Foaly.”

 

“Foaly!” screamed Opal. “Foaly is a buffoon. Fiddling around with his gadgets when there are entire dimensions left unexplored.”

 

“I apologize, Holly,” said Artemis formally. “You warned me, and I wouldn’t listen. You were our only chance, and I tricked you.”

 

Opal was furious. She skirted the Chinese warriors to where Juliet stood holding Holly, whose head was dangling.