A/N: Hello again, everybody. Long time no see. Here is my rewritten version of Fairywings, retitled Wings of Fairies. I have made a great many changes and improvements, because I have to admit, Fairywings was pretty bad. If you haven't read Fairywings, don't. Read this one instead! I'm hoping it's at least a little better plotted, better written, and better done in general. Enjoy if you can.

Chapter One

"Cars are wonderful things. Honestly, how can one survive without the assistance of an automobile? If I did not have a car my life would be dull. Duller than dull. How else would I get places? I would be stuck in my mansion at my computer all day. Of course, that wouldn't be too bad. But then I couldn't do that all day. Cars are wonderful. They are, aren't they? So how do they break down so easily?" Artemis kicked a piece of gravel with his shiny black shoes. Shoving his hands in his pockets he glared back at the rental car, the burning smell of smoke in the air.

Butler was hunched over the open hood, his sleeves rolled up and his jacket off. Mr. and Mrs. Fowl stood under the shade of a nearby tree. "The car just had to break down," Artemis said to himself under his breath.

Under the tree, Mrs. Fowl turned to her husband, twins in her arms. "Why don't we just call somewhere to fix this?" she said. "The Jensens are waiting for us."

"Don't worry," Mr. Fowl said. "They won't mind."

Artemis glared and walked sulkily down the gravel path. "'Won't mind,'" Artemis mumbled. "Why could we not just stay home in Ireland? I don't even know how these people are related to us."

Angrily, he leaned against a bench and opened his book. The only sounds were the rumbling of the car, trying to start, and the rhythmic bounces of a basketball against the black, outdoor basketball court. Trees stood all around and shaded Artemis and his book from the sun.

It was pretty peaceful.

Or so Artemis thought until a hard, orange basketball hit his book, knocking it out of his hands. He let out a small squeak of surprise and stood there, horrified, as the precious book fell to the ground.

Two girls ran up. Both looked about sixteen or seventeen and were wearing shorts, t-shirts, and sneakers. One of them, the one with the light brown hair which was up in a ponytail, bent down and picked up the book. She brushed it off with her hand before handing it back to Artemis.

"Sorry," she said. "Are you okay?"

Artemis inspected the book closely for even the tiniest speck of dirt. "I'm fine," he said, and glared at the girls. "But I can't say the same for my book."

"Well, sorry," the girl said again.

The other girl, with black hair behind a head band, picked up the basketball as if it were a baby. "At least my ball didn't get too dirty," she said. "I only got it last week."

"Aw, how nice, Yvonne!" the other girl said. "People before objects, okay?"

"I was joking," Yvonne said. "Sheesh."

The brown-haired girl rolled her eyes and turned back to Artemis. "Yeah, sorry about that," she said for the third time. She glanced at her watch. "Oh my god! I was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago! My mom's going to kill me!"

She grabbed her jacket off the bench and managed a short, "Bye, Yvonne!" before running up the path and down the sidewalk.

"Whatever," Yvonne said, and returned to the basketball court.

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "Americans," he muttered.

He went back to the car, finding it unsafe not to be within five feet of his bodyguard, especially in San Francisco.

The rental car pulled up to a light blue house with a brown roof at five-thirty. Butler heaved the suitcases up the stairs and Mrs. Fowl rang the doorbell. Nothing happened behind that brown, wooden door for a few moments. Then they heard the scurrying of footsteps and the sound of the lock being turned. Then the door opened.

A small,dark haired woman stood there. She smiled. "Angeline!" she said. "You're here."

"Our rental broke down and we spent some time fixing it. That's why we're late."

"Never mind that, never mind that," the woman said. "Come in. Please. Winters here in San Francisco can be chilly."

Artemis frowned. Chilly? This was by far the warmest winter he had ever experienced. It wasn't even cold. Well, that's San Francisco for you. The locals think it's freezing.

The Fowls stepped into the warm house. The smell of hot food lingered in the air and there was music playing in the other room.

"Artemis," Mrs. Fowl said. "I don't believe you remember Mrs. Jensen. You were only a baby when you last saw her."

"No," Artemis said, shaking Mrs. Jeffreys hand. "I do not think I remember her."

Mrs. Jensen continued smiling. "I can't believe it! You were only a baby when I saw you last!"

Artemis chuckled awkwardly.

"The Jensens have a daughter about your age. I hope you two will get along," Mrs. Fowl said.

As if on cue, a teenage girl walked into the room. Her straight, light brown hair was down and she was very tall. About five feet eight inches, Artemis guessed. Tall for a female who's supposed to be fourteen.

She blinked her gray eyes at Artemis but other than that made no gesture that she'd seen him before. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, but her recognizable face was what Artemis noticed first.

"Artemis," Mrs. Jensen said, "this is Loretta."

Ettie's smile was one that a person would put on when they meet someone new who they don't necessarily want to meet. She gave a short wave. Artemis didn't smile, or move.

"You guys have to get a tour of the house," Mrs. Jensen said. "We only moved in a few months ago. Ettie, why don't you give the tour?"

Ettie shrugged and buried her hands in her pockets. As she lead the Fowls around the house Artemis marveled at the compactness. Not even a quarter the size of Fowl Manor, but then...Fowl Manor was a pretty big house.

"This is one of the guest rooms," Ettie said. She looked over at Artemis. "It's where you'll be staying."

Artemis gazed around the room, at the small bed, the tiny closet, and half-sized bookshelf that stood near the corner. The room was dim. A bedside lamp was perched on the table. A window near the bed let a few stray rays of light through, but even those were fading quickly as the day was drawing to a close. Artemis shuddered and quickly glanced at Ettie to make sure she didn't see his discomfort. She was obviously thinking of something else.

Butler put Artemis' suitcase down on the floor next to the bed, and left. Artemis hesitated in the room a bit longer. Always a good idea to know your surroundings, Artemis thought. Even in the most innocent of places.

"So yeah," Ettie said. "This is your room. The bathroom's right down the hall."

"Very well," Artemis said.

His gaze drifted around the room.

"Are all Irish people so formal like you?" Ettie said after a while.

"What do you mean by that?"

Ettie counted on her fingers. "Well, you're wearing a suit on vacation, you always talk in complete sentences, you haven't smiled once, and dude," she said, "you are super high strung."

Okay, maybe this wasn't the most innocent of places. Any place with this obnoxious girl was far from innocent.

Artemis' jaw tightened. "I am not high strung."

"Whatever you say," Ettie said. "Why do you have different colored eyes? You some crazy David Bowie fanatic?"

Artemis stared at her as if she had just grown another head. Was she really this insensitive? "What?" he said. "Of course not! I was born this way."

Ettie sniggered. "As if. You're probably wearing underwear with his name across your butt."

"Never mind," Artemis said. "Just...leave."

Ettie rolled her eyes and left the room. Artemis sat down on the bed and dropped his head into his hands. "God," he said. "Where can it be? How could I...God..."

A/N: ooh, cliffie! Stay tuned for chapter two!

-Demented Cookies