The Lost Colony by Eoin Colfer

impressive. The filter successfully equalized the light throughout the building. It boosted or dimmed so that every person in the building was seen in the same light. Those on the stage appeared caked in makeup, and those in the boxes had no shadows to hide in.
    Butler panned across the boxes, satisfying himself that there was no threat present. He saw plenty of nose-picking and hand-holding, sometimes by the same people. But nothing obviously dangerous. But in a second-tier box adjacent to the stage, there was a girl with a head of blond curls, all dressed up for a night of theater.
    Butler immediately recalled seeing the same girl at the materialization site in Barcelona. And now she was here, too? Coincidence? There was no such thing. In the bodyguard’s experience, if you saw a stranger more than once, either they were following you, or you were both after the same thing.
    He scanned the rest of the box. There were two men behind the girl. One, in his fifties—paunchy, expensive tuxedo—was filming the stage with his cell phone camera. This was the first man from Barcelona. The second man was there, too—possibly Chinese, wiry, spiked hair. He had apparently not yet recovered from his leg injury and was adjusting one of his crutches. He flipped it around, removed a rubber grip from the foot, then nestled it against his shoulder like a rifle.
    Butler automatically stepped between Artemis and the man’s line of fire. Not that the crutch was aimed at his charge; it was pointed stage right, three feet from the soprano. Just where Artemis was expecting his demon to show up.
    “Holly,” he said in a low, calm voice, “I think you should shield.”
    Artemis lowered his opera glasses. “Problems?”
    “Maybe,” replied Butler. “Though not for us. I think somebody else knows about the new materialization figures, and I think they’re planning to do more than just observe.”
    Artemis tapped his chin with two fingers, thinking fast. “Where?”
    “Tier two. Beside the stage. I see one possible weapon trained on the stage. Not a standard gun. Maybe a modified dart rifle.”
    Artemis leaned forward, gripping the brass rail. “They plan to take the demon alive, if one turns up. In that case, they will need a distraction.”
    Holly was on her feet. “What can we do?”
    “It’s too late to stop them,” said Artemis, a frown slashing his brow. “If we interfere, we may upset the distraction, in which case the demon will be exposed. If these people are clever enough to be here, you may be sure their plan is a good one.”
    Holly claimed her helmet, slotting it over her ears. Air pads automatically inflated to cradle her head. “I can’t just let them kidnap a fairy.”
    “You have no choice,” snapped Artemis, risking the audience’s displeasure. “Best-case—and most likely— scenario, nothing happens. No materialization.”
    Holly scowled. “You know as well as I do that fortune never sends the best-case scenario our way. You have too much bad karma.”
    Artemis had to chuckle. “You’re right, of course. Worstcase scenario, a demon appears, they anchor it with the dart rifle, we interfere, and in the confusion the demon is swept up by the local polizia and we all end up in custody.”
    “Not good. So we just sit back and watch.”
    “Butler and I sit back and watch. You get over there and record as much data as possible. And when these people go, you go after them.”
    Holly activated her wings. They slid from her backpack, crackling blue as the flight computer sent a charge through them.
    “How much time do I have?” she asked as she faded from sight.
    Artemis checked the stopwatch on his watch.
    “If you hurry,” he said, “none.”
    * * *
    Holly launched herself out over the audience, controlling her trajectory by using the joystick built into the thumb of her glove. Invisible, she soared above the gathered humans. With the aid of her helmet’s filters, she could clearly see the occupants of