‘I remember when I first saw your mother,’ he said. ‘I was in London, at a private party in the Ivy. A room full of scoundrels and I was the biggest one in the bunch. She changed me, Arty. Broke my heart, then put it together again. Angeline saved my life. Now …’

Artemis felt weak with nerves. His blood pounded in his ears like the Atlantic surf.

‘Is Mother dying, Father? Is this what you are trying to tell me?’

The idea seemed ludicrous. Impossible.

His father blinked, as if waking from a dream.

‘Not if the Fowl men have something to say about it, eh, son? It’s time for you to earn that reputation of yours.’ Artemis Senior’s eyes were bright with desperation. ‘Whatever we have to do, son. Whatever it takes.’

Artemis felt panic welling up inside him.

Whatever we have to do?

Be calm, he told himself. You have the power to fix this.

Artemis did not yet have all the facts, but nonetheless he was reasonably confident that whatever was wrong with his mother could be healed with a burst of fairy magic. And he was the only human on Earth with that magic running through his system.

‘Father,’ he said gently, ‘has the doctor left?’

For a moment the question seemed to puzzle Artemis Senior, then he remembered.

‘Left? No. He is in the lobby. I thought you might talk to him. Just in case there’s a question I have missed …’

Artemis was only mildly surprised to find Doctor Hans Schalke, Europe’s leading expert on rare diseases, in the lobby and not the usual family practitioner. Naturally, his father would have sent for Schalke when Angeline Fowl’s condition began to deteriorate. Schalke waited below the filigreed Fowl crest, a hard-skinned Gladstone bag standing sentry by his ankles like a giant beetle. He was belting a grey raincoat across his waist and speaking to his assistant in sharp tones.