Mulch had given Juliet a bottle of dwarf rock polish. She poured a little puddle on the lift roof and it dissolved like fat on a pan. Juliet hopped into the carriage, crouching low in case Blunt decided to put a few rounds into the lift.
â€˜Itâ€™s a machine,â€™ said Artemis coldly. â€˜Not one of your steroid-munching associates.â€™
â€˜I needed to give you your instructions verbally,â€™ he began. â€˜I donâ€™t want to risk Foaly picking them up from the computer.â€™
Juliet was furious with herself. This was exactly the kind of stunt her brother had warned her about.
Melodramatic as always, the dwarf insisted on a sandwich before explaining the situation. Unfortunately for Mulch, it was Artemis who volunteered to prepare it for him. He emerged from the pantry with what resembled nothing more than an explosion on a plate.
â€˜Of course itâ€™s hazel. My eyes are hazel.â€™