Dublin, Ireland: 2005

Artemis Fowl II had never once considered life as a sibling, either younger or older. The thought had never crossed his mind and because his parents had never expressed interest in more children in the fourteen years since his birth, he had never had need to contemplate it. However, it was all that was on his mind, aside from the chess game sitting before him and the attractive young lady he was playing against.

The two of them were sitting at a small table on the back lawn of the Fowl Family estate. It was a balmy afternoon, the perfect combination of heat and wind, sun and shade. Artemis could almost feel his skin soaking in the UV rays.

"Arty," said the girl across from him in a soft French accent. "It is your move, cheri."

"Be patient, Minerva," Artemis replied, studying the board with a furrowed brow and trying not to get too excited that Minerva had just called him "darling". "You can't ever rush a chess match." He moved his piece and tapped the duel clock beside the board.

He turned back around to place his attention on his two brothers. They were twins, Myles and Beckett, born during one of the teenage genius' previous adventures. He had not been around for their birth, being suspended in the space-time continuum and missing a whole three years of his life. And the first three years of theirs. He was here for them now, though, and would be for as long as he could.

Myles waddled over to his older brother, his corduroys and bare knees covered in grass stains.

"Myles, do try to stay out of the grass," Artemis scolded, making his move, putting Minerva in check, and lifting the chubby toddler onto his lap.

"Arty," Myles asked in a tiny voice, "I want Mummy." The Fowl parents, Artemis senior and Angeline, were gone on a trip to Italy. It was partially to unwind after a stressful year and partially to meet with a new business partner their father thought would make a lucrative merger.

Artemis sighed. "Mummy and Daddy won't be home for a few weeks," he told the Myles, trying to sound soothing and patient as he put Minerva into another check.

Myles, however, did not yet have a firm grasp of time and all he knew was that he wanted his mother. "I want Mummy," he repeated.

Artemis sighed and set down the child. "Go play with your brother," Artemis urged, putting Minerva in yet another check. "It'll help take your mind of Mummy." Myles didn't look like he'd understood all of what Artemis had said. Only that his big brother was turning him away. He slumped his head and waddled back to where Beckett was chasing a butterfly near the border of the forest that bordered the mansion's rear.

When he had first heard about the twins, Artemis had assumed that they would be genii like himself and his father. However, it had turned out that they were completely normal; they displayed no interest in the sciences or mathematics or arts like Artemis had when he was their age. They had a limited vocabulary of about 200 words whereas Artemis had memorized the entire family dictionary by the time he was four. They seemed to have no desire beyond playing and eating.

Artemis found it taxing. Average intelligence had its charm, but it made it extremely difficult to communicate with his siblings. He couldn't discuss his favorite opera with them because they would often get bored and run off to find a stuffed animal ten minutes into the recording. He tried to come to their level, reading them stories at bedtime and indulging in their requests to do funny voices for the characters. They would laugh and Artemis would smile. The happiness of his brothers was everything to him; he just wasn't very good at supplying it.

"Check," Minerva called, drawing Artemis back to the game. He looked at the board and smiled, which he seemed to be doing more of lately. This particular smile was a favorite of Minerva's; she was fan of old vampire films and often said that Artemis' wolfish grin of triumph reminded her of a handsome Count Dracula.

The boy genius moved his bishop and captured Minerva's queen, eliminating the threat to his king and bringing the game to an end at once.

"Checkmate." Artemis leaned back in his chair, a smirk tugging at his lips that he kept contained. He had discovered that it was unwise to be smug around Minerva who, like Artemis, was not good at losing.

"Good game," she said coolly, turning away to look at the twins playing in the yard. Artemis had been on the receiving end of this before; Butler, his bodyguard, called it "being in the doghouse". Artemis thought quickly to get himself out of it.

"Would you like to stay for dinner tonight?" he asked. "I can conjure some excuse for your father."

Minerva's gaze returned to Artemis. While Minerva often visited Fowl Manor, it was only during the holidays or if her father had business in Ireland. In the latter cases, she would only stay for a full day, at which point a driver would pick her up in the evening.

"What would we be having?" she asked, perfectly mimicking disinterest.

"I'll make us Japanese cuisine," Artemis offered. "Grilled fish, dipping sauce, a side salad. It's divine."

Minerva's eyebrows shot up. "You are going to make us dinner?" she asked, incredulous.

Artemis was slightly hurt. "What's so remarkable about that?"

"Artemis Fowl, you couldn't make a bowl of cereal without Butler to help you."

"That sounds like a challenge, Ms. Paradizo." Artemis grinned. "And I accept."

"I await your results tonight, Master Fowl," Minerva replied, slightly blushing.

Artemis blushed as well. It had just occurred to him that he may have just asked Minerva to dinner. A date, if you will. Not bad for a first try.

The silence between the two was broken by the sound of a child screaming. Artemis and Minerva immediately leapt from their seats and sprinted into the backyard. Beckett was in the grass, clutching his leg while Myles stood beside him.

"He tripped over," Myles said as soon as he saw the older children coming towards them.

"He tripped me on purpose!" Beckett shouted through sobs.

"I did not!" Myles shouted back.

"Quiet!" While Artemis' voice wouldn't have carried weight in any other situation, the noise of their older brother's voice was like thunder to the Fowl twins. Myles sucked his lips into his mouth and Beckett tried his best to stop sobbing, though his lip still trembled and little squeaks bubbled from his lips.

Artemis bent down beside his baby brother and gingerly removed his small, pudgy hands.

"It's merely a scrape," the older Fowl said, helping the crying boy up into a sitting position. "Minerva, would you take Myles inside for me? I need to work my magic on Beckett."

Minerva understood immediately and dragged a guilty-looking Myles back to Fowl Manor.

"Now," said Artemis, rubbing his hands together for dramatic effect, "what happened, Beckett?"

The toddler's cheeks were soaked in tears and he was sucking his thumb to keep from crying.

"Did Myles really trip you?" he pressed, moving his hands along his brother's skinned knee. Myles nodded, though he still didn't speak.

"Did he really do it on purpose?" Artemis closed his hand around the chubby knee.

Beckett waited longer before shaking his head.

"So why did you lie to me?" Heal, he thought.

Beckett didn't answer, instead dropping his eyes away from his older brother's piercing stare and continuing to suck his thumb.

"Stop that," he urged as blue sparks danced along his brother's knee. "It's a bad habit." He took his hands off his brother's now repaired leg and forced the thumb from the toddler's eager mouth.

"Why did you lie?" he repeated. His brother continued to avert his gaze and didn't answer.

"Do you know why it's not okay to lie?" Artemis asked, seeing an opportunity for a moral lesson. Artemis Fowl giving morality lessons; his old friend Holly would've had a crack about this.

Beckett nodded.

"Well, why is it?"

"I don't know," Beckett said, shuffling his feet.

Artemis took a breath. "Because it hurts other people, Beckett. If I told you right now that Mummy and Daddy were never coming home, that would be a lie. But how would you feel if I didn't tell you it was a lie?"

"Bad," said Beckett.

"Exactly," said Artemis. "You'd be angry with me, I expect, when you found out that it had been a lie. That would mean you couldn't trust me. When you said Myles tripped you on purpose, that hurt him. It hurt the way he feels about you. It makes him angry with you and not trust you. Do you want your brother to be angry at you? Do you want Myles to think he can't trust you like you trust Mummy, Daddy and me?"

Beckett shook his head, looking even more guilty.

"Good," Artemis said, giving what he hoped was a soothing smile. "Neither do I."

"I'm sorry, Arty," Beckett said, wrapping his little arms around his brother's neck and beginning a new batch of sobs. Artemis wrapped his brother in a hug and lifted him up, carrying him back to the house.

"I forgive you," Artemis said, patting the crying boy on the shoulder. "However, it's Myles you should apologize to." He set Beckett down inside the door of the mansion. The boy had calmed down and was now sniffling as he walked off to find Myles.

At this point, Butler emerged from the hallway door that led to the kitchens. The huge Eurasian bodyguard looked almost comical in his stained apron.

"Everything alright, Artemis?" he asked. "I thought I heard crying."

"Nothing a little magic dust couldn't fix," Artemis replied, twiddling his fingers so that a cloud of sparks jumped in his palm.

Butler frowned at his charge. "You shouldn't be using that, Artemis," he said, turning back to the kitchen. "Especially not on the twins."

Artemis leaned against the frame of the door to the kitchen. Butler was cooking up the Japanese cuisine that he would be passing off as his own later that evening.

"I know," he said and he meant it. "I just couldn't help myself." He meant that too. When he had looked into the crying face of his little brother, all he had wanted to do was make him feel better. "It's over now, anyway. Beckett didn't even notice what happened."

"Where's Minerva?" Butler asked, feigning innocence. As strange as it sounded, Artemis' love life was one of Butler's favorite amusements. His young charge was just entering adolescence. That meant puberty. That meant hormones and delightfully exaggerated reactions from Artemis.

"She'll be with Myles," Artemis replied. "She took him inside. She's staying for dinner, by the way, and thinks I'm cooking that. If you don't mind, I'd prefer not mentioning that you had any part of this."

Butler cracked a smile. "You? Cooking? You can't poor a bowl of cereal without spilling the milk."

Artemis scowled.

"I am impressed," Minerva told Artemis as she finished off her salad. Butler had made it special to accommodate her peanut allergies. They were sitting at the same table as that afternoon, though it was night now, with a sky full to the brim with twinkling stars. The twins had been put to sleep two hours ago and Butler was on his rounds in the house. It was just the two of them now; the boy genius and the girl prodigy.

"Surely not that impressed," Artemis asked, taking a sip of his spring water. Holly and his other fairy friends had all pitched in to send him a whole bottle for his most recent birthday. It was divine. "It's not so difficult to learn the culinary arts with the proper research."

"Having a teacher such as Butler doesn't hurt," Minerva reminded him. Her eyes were drooping and she was leaning back in her chair, breathing deeply.

"Yes," Artemis mused riley. "That was certainly helpful."

He looked back up to find that Minerva was right beside him. She was leaning over him, her face only inches away from his. He could feel her hot breath on his face and his heart did a little jig in his chest.

"You are like nobody I've met, Artemis Fowl," Minerva whisper as she cupped his cheek in her soft hand.

"Likewise." Artemis swallowed and suddenly became very aware that his palms were abnormally sweaty.

Minerva leaned closer to him. Artemis could smell her now, like tea and macrons. He nearly bolted from his chair, but there was something keeping him planted. It wasn't fear that made his heart race, his cheeks flush and his breath come out in short bursts. It was… something else.

Artemis closed his eyes anticipating Minerva's lips touching his… when the security alert went off. The boy fell over in his chair and on to the patio. Minerva bent down to help him up and Butler emerged almost instantaneously outside.

"What happened Artemis?" the bodyguard bent down to check the young man's vitals. "Are you alright?"

"I'm find, Butler," replied Artemis, broken out of his stupor and suddenly feeling very hot in the face. Minerva's cheeks were equally red.

"Well, come inside anyway." Butler lead the two children back through the door. "I'll check the grounds."

The Eurasian bodyguard left the two teenagers in the sitting room. They silently agreed that more attempts at romance were to be made that evening. Instead, they started another game of chess, but every time they would look up to meet each other's eyes, they would smile, blush, and quickly look away.

Butler returned from his investigations shortly after Minerva had been picked up by her driver. He had found nothing on the grounds, not even tracks aside from those of rabbits and squirrels. The bodyguard made a mental note to recalibrate the motion sensors to ignore small wildlife.

He found his charge sleeping in a high-backed armchair next to the fireplace in the sitting room. The fire had long ago burned down to embers. Artemis was slumped over, a line of drool trailing from his mouth. A game of chess lay unfinished on the coffee table. Artemis seemed to have been winning.

Butler stared down at the young Master Fowl smiling. While sleeping, you could almost believe that Artemis Fowl was a normal young man, crashing with exhaustion after a lengthy day of fun.

The bodyguard grabbed a blanket from the couch across the table and gently placed it over the sleeping boy. Butler leaned his head back to avoid posture related issues. He turned off the lamp beside the chair and quietly left Artemis to rest.

Artemis opened one eye, his blue eye. He saw that Butler had gone and could hear the light muffle of his footsteps disappearing down the hall. He'll be going upstairs now, to check on the twins.

Artemis opened his other eye, his hazel one, and slipped out of the blanket. The blanket had been a show of affection, something that Butler was not in the habit of doing except under the most taxing of circumstances. Perhaps his old bodyguard had been growing sentimental since his charge's three-year disappearance and subsequent reappearance. He would need to talk to him about that; he was a bodyguard. Not a nanny.

Artemis silently stepped out onto the back lawn of the estate and knelt down in the grass. He pulled a small spade from his back pocket and began to dig up the earth. His mother would be furious with the ruination of her finely managed lawn, but that was a small price to pay for magic.

Ever since Artemis had returned from his time-hopping journey with stolen magic, he had been testing its possibilities. It had started with basic healing of himself and others. Then it had been the Mesmer, which he had successfully used to get a free coffee from a Starbucks. However, the more Artemis tested his powers, the weaker he felt. Soon, the magic would leave him altogether and he would be ordinary again. Well, ordinary except for the genius level IQ, but ever since he had stolen his magic, he had come to think of that as the new baseline for ordinary. He was the first human in 10,000 years at least to wield magic. He had advanced, evolved, more than usual beyond other humans. The last thing he wanted to do was lose it.

Artemis set down the spade and took a small acorn from his pocket. The acorn had been recovered from an ancient oak over two weeks ago. It was a key component in The Ritual, a practice that restored the magical power of all fairies. Could it be possible, Artemis thought, to restore his own power by the same method?

The world lit with a silvery glow as the moon came out from behind a cloud. It was full, the perfect moon to perform the ritual.

"I return you to the earth," whispered Artemis, repeating the words he had heard from Holly Short, "and claim the gift that is my right."

He shoved the acorn into the earth and waited. A few seconds passed, but nothing happened. Artemis was not unduly concerned, however; it generally took a few seconds before the magic returned to the user.

Ten seconds passed. Then twenty. Then thirty. Still nothing happened. Not even a spark.

Artemis deflated. That was disappointing. He had at least expected a bolt of energy or some other negative response if The Ritual refused him.

He moved to get up only to find that he was stuck. His hand was stuck in the earth where he had planted the acorn. Artemis raised an eyebrow, but didn't panic. Perhaps this was a normal process for non-fairies engaging in The Ritual.

Artemis tugged again, harder, and this time the dirt gave way. An bolt of lightning arced from the hole in the ground and struck the boy with a force that knocked him back. Artemis felt the magic course through him, but not like before. Before, it had been welcome, smooth; he had opened himself up to it. Now, it seemed as though the magic was forcing itself into him, breaking down any barriers and burrowing itself in his soul.

At last, the magic rested inside him and he fell to the ground. Artemis lay there panting, adjusting to this new surge of magic. It seemed to lay in him, as a cinder block lays at the bottom of a lake, rather than flowing through him as a river like before. Perhaps he would need to exercise it to get it flowing.

Artemis felt a twitching in his arms and legs. Probably a result magical shock, he thought, until the twitching turned into a full violent spasm. His limbs were flying, kicking into the air, the ground and each other. It felt like they were going to snap in half or pop out of his sockets.

Suddenly, painfully, his entire body locked itself into a plank. His arms were stuck to his sides, his legs snapped together and his spine was forced into a perfectly straight line. Even his jaw was wired shut, so he couldn't call for Butler's help.

Artemis was thinking quickly, recalling every study and medical journal that had talked about patients going into paralysis or spasms. All they told him was that there was nothing to do for it except wait until it passes or somebody finds you.

Artemis had just accepted the fact that he was going to have to get comfortable in this position until morning, when he felt a tingling. The sensation was everywhere; his organs, his limbs, his face, on and under his skin. He could even feel his hairs vibrating slightly. The tingling grew more intense until it was painful, like every molecule was clattering against one another.

Or, thought Artemis, being forced together. That, he thought, felt more accurate. It was like somebody or something was trying to make him as compact as possible, even on a molecular level.

The pain grew to the point where Artemis would've screamed if his jaw hadn't been forced shut. It was like he was folding in on himself, being pushed into a small hole like a napkin being forced through on the end of somebody's finger.

Artemis' vision went white, then red, then black, then a whole rainbow of colors, some of which had never seen. It all came through a haze of excruciating pain, confusion and, most of all, helplessness. Artemis Fowl was completely helpless, a feeling he did not have often. He couldn't move, cry for help or even see what was happening to him in the moment. All he could do was wait and hope that it would stop eventually.

Butler would come downstairs the next morning expecting to find his charge in the armchair. When he wasn't there, he checked the kitchen, but he wasn't there either. He checked the entire house and grounds, but could find no trace of his closest friend. The only clue he found was a rusty miniature spade and a crude hole of freshly-dug earth.