The Fowl Twins: Chapter 15–Epilogue

It seemed as though his intellect was about to be defeated by sheer firepower, disproving the trite old maxim that the pen is mightier than the sword.

The duke must have forked over a pretty penny to Ishi Myishi for the metallic swarm, which split like a theater curtain to allow their human master access to Myles Fowl and his bedraggled band.

“Very droll,” said Myles, and, to give himself a moment to think, he picked another robot to insult. “And that lawn mower—shall it be giving our troll friend a haircut?”

Beckett and Whistle Blower were prone in the mud, and, judging by her sky-blue pallor, Lazuli was fit for little more than a spell in a hospital bed hooked up to various drips.

It dipped under his weight, rotors whining, then fizzled out altogether as Beckett yanked out its engine wires like entrails.

He will kill us without remorse, thought Myles, and unlike during previous near-death escapades, he had time for the notion to sink in.

Steam from Lance's lance had distended the cellophane.

Even as her spine shuddered and her stomach convulsed, Lazuli felt there was more at play here than simple biliousness.

Even as her spine shuddered and her stomach convulsed, Lazuli felt there was more at play here than simple biliousness.

Think of magic like a symbiote who is desperate to survive. If you are born magical, you learn to control it naturally, but if it manifests late in life, it's like suddenly having an extra arm flailing about on your chest.

Myles had only one card to play, and that card was no longer up his sleeve. In fact, he had played it several hours ago, shortly after arriving on St. George, and it seemed now in retrospect that his gambit had been a rash waste of resources.

A swarm of airborne death-dealing machines arranged in a semicircle before the foreboding mansion, controlled by their hovering master.

The robots’ metal carapaces buckled and clanged, their plates warping and splitting, some flipping entirely and others collapsing sadly on themselves, belching smoke from their innards.

In fact, his senses became somewhat sharpened in a fray, and though he did not realize it, his lips drew back from his teeth and his eyes widened, giving him something of a sharklike appearance.

One moment she was blasting glorious roiling pillars of fire to the heavens, and the next her body said Night-night and she toppled over with smoke wafting from her pores.

Lord Teddy’s cool head had increased in temperature, as it were, so that now he was entirely hotheaded and had reverted to his previous plan of blowing Myles Fowl and his darned coterie to hell, or at least wiping them off the face of the earth.

Lord Teddy expected a salvo of concentrated laser beams, explosive projectiles of various calibers, arrowheads, and even low-yield missiles to utterly obliterate the Fowl spawn and all their allies, troll be damned.

On the contrary, the bird, whose name phonetically was Krruaa-ka-ka, learned to use his newfound erratic flying style as an avian martial art and became the most powerful gull in all of Cornwall, eventually uniting the southern counties.

This took a few seconds, and while the duke looked around at his army in consternation, Myles used the time to smooth his tie and check on the hair dryer’s progress.

The duke might have capitulated—after all, his situation was desperate—had not NANNI asked:
“Should I stop streaming the three-D package for this Myishi person?”

“Wait,” said Myles, raising his hand as if pale, spindly digits could ward off a shotgun blast.

Myles had even spent an inordinate amount of time choosing his last words, and the current edit was:
Farewell, friends. Do not weep for me; weep for a world without me.

Ten minutes earlier, it would have made not a whit of difference where Myles landed, as Lazuli had not yet manifested her magic, but now she was an entirely different creature.

But the last vestige of his noble upbringing caused him to think better of that, and so he went under the cellophane without saying a word.

Myles lay still with his eyes closed for several moments, just letting the information percolate.

His brother may have been bantering with Whistle Blower, but there was a look of serious concern on his young face.

For, by a bizarre confluence of circumstances, Lord Teddy had simultaneously achieved his ambition of immortality while forfeiting any hope of eternal youth.

Lord Teddy and his cellophane sphere had plugged the blowhole most effectively, and so he hung there suspended while the seawater sporadically battered the sphere from below.

A small drone hovered at his shoulder and played a delivery fanfare, and Myles saw that his spectacles were in its wire tray.

Whistle Blower threw a mini tantrum, sloshing in the mud and slashing the air, sensing from Beckett’s disposition that they would not be stomping on anyone.

Sister Jeronima Gonzalez-Ramos de Zárate of Bilbao knew that the traditional image of a nun was a calm, unarmed, pious lady clad in a simple smock, but, at this precise moment, she certainly did not fit the usual profile.

The flares should have faded, but they didn’t, and the half dozen paratroopers who had started rappelling to ground were stuck in the air, torsos leaned back, legs splayed in the descend position, but completely still.

What’s wrong is that I presented an irrefutable argument to the LEP as to why we should not be subjected to a mind-wipe and still they have taken three days to deliberate.

My mind should be bequeathed to science, not tampered with by some intern with electrodes.

Beckett asked a pertinent question.

Fairy liaison officer. You can call me Ambassador Heitz, Fowl Affairs.

We will set up a timetable for weekly debriefings.

This is Beckett Fowl of the Regrettables, and I made a mnemonic for the planets: Medium Voltage Easily Makes Jumpy Snakes Undulate Near Pylons.

NANNI hacked the communicator in less than half a minute. She is feeding the fairy police with inane banter about her latest obsession, which happens to be the residual life force found in oil paintings.

For the perfect storm of stomach wounds, troll venom, and electricity had shocked him back to life, cauterized his wounds, regrown his broken bones, and granted him a longevity equal to that of a troll.