Mulch preferred to dig a fresh tunnel. For some reason, eating the same dirt twice didn't appeal to him.

Unhinging his jaw, the dwarf pointed himself torpedo-like through the hole in the floorboards. His heart calmed immediately as the scent of minerals filled his nostrils. Safe, he was safe. Nothing could catch a dwarf underground, not even a Skaylian rock worm.

That was, of course, if he managed to get underground…

Ten very powerful fingers gripped Mulch by the ankles. This just wasn't the dwarf's day. First wart-face, now this homicidal human.

Some people never learn. Usually Mud People.

'Egg go,' he mumbled, unhinged jaw flapping uselessly.

'Not a chance,' came the reply. 'The only way you're leaving this house is in a body bag.'

Mulch could feel himself being dragged backwards. This human was strong. There weren't many creatures that could dislodge a dwarf with a grip on something. He scrabbled in the dirt, cramming handfuls of wine-impregnated clay into his cavernous mouth. There was only one chance.

'Come on, you little goblin. Out of there.'

Goblin! Mulch would have been indignant had he not been busy chewing clay to eject at his enemy.

The human stopped talking. Possibly he had noticed the bum-flap, and probably the bum. No doubt what had happened in the safe room was coming back to him.

'Oh…'

What would have followed the 'Oh' is anyone's guess, but I'd be willing to bet that it wouldn't have been 'dearie me'. As it happened, Butler never had time to finish his expletive, because he wisely chose that moment to relinquish his grip. A wise choice indeed, because it coincided with the instant Mulch decided to launch his earthen offensive.

A lump of compacted clay sped like a cannonball directly at the spot where Butler's head had been barely a second previously. Had it still occupied that space, the impact would have separated it from Butler's shoulders. An ignoble end for a bodyguard of his calibre. As it was, the soggy missile barely grazed his ear. Nevertheless, the force was sufficient to spin Butler like an ice skater, landing him on his rump for the second time in as many minutes.

By the time his vision had settled, the dwarf had disappeared into a maelstrom of churning muck. Butler decided not to attempt pursuit. Dying below ground was not very high on his things to do list.

But there will be another day, fairy, he thought grimly. And there was to be. But that's another story.

Mulch's momentum propelled him underground. He'd gone several metres along the loamy vein before he realized no one was following. Once the taste of earth had settled his heart rate, he decided it was time to implement his escape plan.

The dwarf altered his course, chewing his way towards the rabbit warren he'd noted earlier. With any luck, the centaur hadn't run a seismology test on the manor grounds, or his ruse might be discovered. He'd just have to bank on the fact that they had more important things to worry about than a missing prisoner. There shouldn't be any problem deceiving Julius, but the centaur, he was a smart one.

Mulch's internal compass steered him true, and within minutes he could feel the gentle vibrations of the rabbits loping along their tunnels. From here on timing was crucial if the illusion was to be effective. He slowed his digging rate, poking the soft clay gently until his fingers breached the tunnel wall. Mulch was careful to look the other way, because whatever he saw would be showing up on the viewscreen back in LEP HQ.

Laying his fingers on the tunnel floor like an upturned spider, Mulch waited. It didn't take long. In seconds he felt the rhythmic thump of an approaching rabbit. The instant the animal's hind legs brushed the trap, he tightened his powerful digits around its neck. The poor animal never had a chance.

Sorry, friend, thought the dwarf. If there was any other way…Pulling the rabbit's body through the hole, Mulch rehinged his jaw and began screaming. 'Cave in! Cave in! Help! Help!'

Now for the tricky bit. With one hand he agitated the surrounding earth, bringing showers of it crumbling around his own head. With the other hand he popped the iris-cam out of his left eye and slid it into the rabbit's. Given the almost total darkness and the landfall confusion, it should be almost impossible to spot the switch.

'Julius! Please. Help me.'

'Mulch! What's happening? What's your status?'

What's my status? thought the dwarf incredulously. Even in times of supposed crisis, the commander couldn't abandon his precious protocol.

'I…Argh…' The dwarf dragged his final scream out, petering off to a gargling rattle.

A bit melodramatic perhaps, but Mulch never could resist theatrics. With a last regretful glance at the dying animal, he unhinged his jaw and finned off to the south-east. Freedom beckoned.

Root leaned forward, roaring into the microphone.

'Mulch! What's happening? What's your status?'

Foaly was tapping a keyboard furiously.

'We've lost audio. Motion too.'

'Mulch. Talk to me, dammit.'

'I'm running a scan on his vitals… Woah!'

'What? What is it?'

'His heart has gone crazy. Beating like a rabbit…'

'A rabbit?'

'No, wait, it's…'

'What?' breathed the commander, terribly afraid that he already knew.

Foaly leaned back in his chair. 'It's stopped. His heartbeat has stopped.'

'Are you sure?'

'The monitors don't lie. All vitals can be read through the iris-cam. Not a peep. He's gone.'

Root couldn't believe it. Mulch Diggums, one of life's constants.

Gone? It couldn't be true.

'He did it too, you know, Foaly. Recovered a copy of the Book no less, and he confirmed Short was alive.'

Foaly's wide brow creased for an instant. 'It's just that…'

'What?' said Root, suspicion aroused.

'Well, for a moment there, just before the end, his heart rate seemed abnormally fast.'

'Maybe it was a malfunction.'

The centaur was unconvinced.

'I doubt it. My bugs don't have bugs.'

'What other explanation could there be? You still have visuals, don't you?'

'Yep. Through dead eyes, no doubt about it. Not a spark of electricity in that brain; the camera is running on its own battery.'

'Well, that's it then. No other explanation.'

Foaly nodded. 'It would seem that way. Unless… No, it's too fantastic.'

'This is Mulch Diggums we're talking about here. Nothing is too fantastic.'

Foaly opened his mouth to voice his incredible theory, but before he could speak the shuttle's bay door slid open.

'We have him!' said a triumphant voice.

'Yes!' agreed a second. 'Fowl has made a mistake!'

195Root swivelled on his chair. It was Argon and Cumulus, the so-called behavioural analysts.

'Oh, we've finally decided to earn our retainers, have we?'

But the professors were not so easily intimidated. United by excitement. Cumulus even had the temerity to wave Root's sarcasm aside. This more than anything else made the commander sit up and take notice.

Argon brushed past Foaly, pressing a laser disk into the console's player. Artemis Fowl's face appeared, as seen through Root's iris-cam.

'We'll be in touch,' said the commander's recorded voice. 'Don't worry, I'll see myself out.'

Fowl's face disappeared momentarily as he rose from his chair.

Root lifted his gaze in time for the next chilling statement.

'You do that. But remember this, none of your race has permission to enter here while I'm alive.'

Argon pressed the pause button triumphantly.

'There, you see!'

Root's complexion lost any final traces of pallor.

'There? There what? What do I see?'

Cumulus tutted, as one would at a slow child. A mistake, in retrospect. The commander had him by the pointy beard in under a second.