Author's Note: I do not own Artemis Fowl or any associated characters. Now, with that over, I would like to thank my great beta, who doesn't want to be named, and my English teacher who keeps encouraging me to be a better writer.
It's pronounce Ham-shin- shaw. And it just means zombie, for the most part. But smarter. And cooler, of course.
Trail of Blaze
Odorous fumes swirled around the dimly lit cavern. The steady beating of hammer on flesh seemed to move the floor. Slim drops of acid slid down the sides of the cave. Through this foyer, a fork appears in the tunnel system.
Down the left, a blood-flecked trail marked the nefarious activity of which was common in the aptly named Station of Sacrifice. Part of the way down the hall, a white pattern was ingrained in the wall. Only with close inspection, or reading the plaque underfoot, could one make out the white as ground remains of a bull-troll.
For those who may pity the troll, its fate was the least painful. Less lucky captives were faced with a choice, one of which haunted the victims for their lives. Live, or die, that would be the question. Only one, the troll, had been wise enough to choose death. The others suffered a terrible destiny.
Chained to a stone block facing the heavens, disciples of the Trail of Blaze mercilessly tore gashes in the form of runes across the victim's body. Then, delving into the fiery chasm on the right of the fork, they brought liquid magma and poured it into the wounds of the unfortunate fellow fettered to the stone block.
This gory ritual, known as Hamshin'sha, would reanimate any dead being as a walking corpse, with great gouts of flame pouring from the pre-mortem wounds. These beings, bound by the cult's demonic will, could perform one task, any task, before painfully dying, again.
Now, a sect of the Cult of Reanimation was performing Hamshin'sha on a poor, unlucky Mud Man had chanced his way into the cave. This man would be the subject of a gruesome experiment.
"Ajax, will the runes work on a non-fairy?" asked the figure in voluminous black.
"Of course. Runes are runes, no?" replied the other, presumably Ajax.
Together, the two figures chanted with faster temper and increased volume. The hair of the human turned ash grey, his brown skin changing to a faded gray. A small ring of fire burnt a brilliant blue in his iris.
A monotone rang across the clear acoustics of the room. "I have been summoned."
"Your name, Hamshin'shan?" the calm voice of Ajax's partner rang out.
"You… you are the one I was looking for… you are why I am dead," said the Hamshin'shan.
"Your name!"
"Michael. Michael Lemming," claimed the unholy cadaver.
"Michael Lemming, you are bound to my will and orders. I will and order you to kill Artemis Fowl the Second." Ajax shivered; even though he was experienced, his partner scared him.
"Of course. When I complete this task will I be released?"
"Yes."
"Artemis, the car is packed. We can leave as soon as you are ready," said Butler.
"Thank you, old friend, I am ready now. It will be good to see Haven as a tourist," replied Artemis.
The two walked to the car, a Bentley of course, and Butler held the door for Artemis before entering the driver's side.
"Twenty-one years old, and you still don't trust me to drive?" quipped Artemis.
"Of course not. I have never seen you practice driving and your driver's education class barely passed you."
"Point taken."
Artemis' fairy communicator chose that moment to buzz, as Artemis and Butler were on their way to Tara. Artemis gently spun the ring around on his finger and answered.
"Holly? We're en route," explained Artemis. "I was working on a new way of replicating sunlight."
"Save it for Foaly," stated Holly fondly, "Sadly, there was a minor goblin breakout and all shuttles are in use. So, you'll be riding in a pod."
"I thought those were made for one person," stated a worried Butler.
"New pods, after the incident with Doodah Day and Mulch."
"Speaking of those two, how's the investigative business going for them?" inquired Artemis.
"They're out investigating some new anti-book cult," grimaced Captain Short, "probably wasting they're time. Cults are still legal, to the council's annoyance. Since the ninth family's return, we're swamped with cults."
Artemis decided to drop the subject as he saw the chrome-plated craft appear from the southern horizon. Tara, then, he recalled. And then he did something he'd have been ashamed of a few years ago. Artemis casually waved his hand as the ship landed.
Walking into the courtyard, which was replete in its rhododendrons, the magma scored pod descended. Out stepped, or more seemingly bounced, Captain Holly Short. Resplendent in an LEP uniform, she captured Artemis' eye instantly.
"Captain…" started Artemis.
"I think you can call me Holly."
"Holly, so great to see you again!" asked Artemis casually.
"You too, Arty. The Complex…?" trailed Holly, worried about the mental faculties of her friend.
"All but gone, thanks to that witch doctor Argon."
The two walked up into the pod, now somewhat comfortable with each other. Artemis felt assured that he was in pleasant company, and Holly was no longer afraid of the outdated Orion.
"Strap in, I want to show you Haven as a tourist pronto."
Artemis was just reaching for the co-pilot's belt when Butler texted him.
Man here 4 u. come now. Important. Name Michael Lemming
"What's that, Artemis?"
"Butler says a man is here to see me, I have to go now. I've a bad feeling about this, can you shield and follow me?" The tone of worry sounded foreign in Artemis' voice.
"Of course, Mud Boy. Mud Man."
The two, one visible and one not, descended the pod's ramp. Artemis turned on his vampire-face, hoping to scare the man away. Oh, how wrong he was.
The man was hideous; there is nothing other can be said. Blackened scars ran through his eyes, blood dried on his face. When his voice first came out, the words were indecipherable to an untrained lip reader.
"Yaeeen mrrrrrn fwnnnnn!" Hello, young Fowl. I deliver a message.
"Your message?" whispered Artemis, afraid.
"Deeeeeaaaath jum mmm thrrrr shhhhhmmm." Death is no stranger to you. You have met death.
"Butler, this man is not what he seems. Holly, wipe away the rune from his neck."
As Holly swept her hand to the rune, a gray hand slapped her from the sky and knocked her out. A few years ago, Butler would have shot the man dead but now he only made it to half draw before the gray man lunged at Artemis. He could only pray that Artemis had the sense to be armed on this day.
But, as luck would have it and any soldier would know might happen, Artemis was without any defense. So, when faced down, Artemis lashed out. Utilizing a bit of what Butler has taught, Artemis whipped an arm up to protect himself and was rewarded with a sickening snap.
The arm began to come down again, the brass knuckles now quite visible, and Butler was ready. Six shots to the chest, six to the head, he recalled. The man fell to the ground.
"He was dead already!" moaned Holly, as she regained consciousness. "What did he say, Artemis?"
"H-h-he said that I knew death."
"WELL WHAT THE d'ARVIT DID HE MEAN!" screamed Butler and Holly together.
"Before the Complex left, I developed an interesting alter. The name, Niccolo M, was in and of itself interest. For as I'm sure you know, Niccolo Machiavelli was the most infamous writer of his time. He states the perfect leader has faith only until it hinders him, an audacious claim," said Artemis.
"And?" asked Butler?
"Domovoi, these words have haunted me for years on end. As I was cured, Niccolo claimed that my friends would be undoing. And I suspected that was his attempt to cause a relapse."
"So was that why you were so worried to see me at first?" asked Holly.
Keeping the perfect poker face he'd always had, Artemis confirmed this as a yes.
"Well, Arty, we must be off! And it is a ton easier to protect you when I know why you're worried. I'm still worried that my Gift of Tongues didn't translate what he said.
The phone rang. It was Trouble in every meaning off the word.