Book 1

Ten's Guardian

Chapter 1

An Introduction of Clay

Dublin Shopping Complex in December: Swelteringly overcrowded by anyone's standards. Needless to say, Myles Fowl would not have been willing to put up with such crowds if something extremely important had not been at stake. Important for his brother.

Juliet Butler forged a path through the crowds. The tall woman with a long braid tied on a jade ring and glittering makeup did not look particularly dangerous. Yet, faced with her gaze, shoppers parted as readily as water. "I'm supposed to be a bodyguard. You know that, correct?" Juliet tugged a small boy with raven hair and a gaze sharper than her own by the hand.

" 'Course I do. The Butlers have a reputation as bodyguards." Myles replied, slightly indignant at having to grasp Juliet's strong hand.

Juliet replied, equally indignant. "Then why are we at the mall? I like shopping as much as the next girl, but a bodyguard-nanny is useless in these conditions."

"I already said why 's necessary. We need to pick up a package," the boy responded, hissing because of a pair of absent teeth at the front of his mouth.

"And?"

"And," Myles sighed, "my package couldn't be delivered to the manor. The surveillance system would have video records. Ever since that incident with the pudding launcher, Artemis blocked my access to the surveillance tapes."

This response earned a raised eyebrow. "A pudding launcher?"

"Beckett stole my trebuchet," he responded, again hissing slightly, "Artemis was caught in the crossfire, and I copied the tape."

Myles watched Juliet's expression. A spark of amusement crossed her sharp features, but quickly disappeared. "I promise," he said as she opened her mouth, "I am not hiding anything from my parents. I ordered a Christmas present for Beck. If it was delivered, he'd force me to tell him what it is. It prob'ly wouldn't end well for me."

Juliet didn't respond. The Fowl boys were too smart for their own good. The eldest had already become involved in an array of international affairs, grand thefts, and supernatural occurrences. The younger two, pushed by mutual competitiveness and guided by Artemis Fowl, were showing a propensity for ingenuity at an ever-younger age. Beckett was more crude and physical of the two, yet, as a bodyguard, Juliet recognized his cunning.

Myles still held a tiny smirk when the unlikely pair reached their destination "A bookstore?" Juliet questioned. "You said you ordered a gift for Beckett. As you should remember, he pressed spiders in the last book Arty gave him."

"My reasonin' exactly." Myles then produced a rumpled square of paper from the pocket of his slacks. "Here. This confirms my order."

Juliet took the proffered paper. "Are you sure Beck won't tear out the pages for target practice?"

"Please, jus' bring my form to the guest services counter. I-" Myles coughed, "-can't reach."

Juliet swallowed her own smirk. Myles and Beckett were twin brothers. The former stood at ninety seven centimeters while the latter a hundred and twelve. To say the least, Myles never heard the end of it. Right now, for example, Juliet responded with a falsely sweet tone. "As you wish, young master." Juliet did not miss the slight twitch of the boy's eyebrows.

Striding toward the desk, she said, "I'm here to pick up a package."

The tired woman at guest services took the printed form with a plastered smile. "Just a moment while I confirm your order." Her poorly lacquered fingers punched away at a keyboard Myles could not see.

Just over a moment later, the woman looked up from her computer screen. Her smile dripped from her face. "Can you confirm your order, eh, Mr. Fowl?" she asked Juliet.

Once again, Myles was the one smirking. He drew the plastic card initially used in the order and handed it to Juliet. "Certainly. That would be Master Fowl, if you will."

The woman leaned forward to get a better view of Myles before accepting the credit card from Juliet. She barely glanced at the card before diving to the shelf under the counter. An embarrassed flush tinged her cheeks as she resurfaced. "Here you are, Miss. Have a good afternoon."

Juliet strode from the bookstore with a brown box in one hand and a boy dragged along by the other. Unfortunately for said boy, dragged was all too literal.

"Are you tryin' to separate my humerus from 's socket?"

Myles soon wished he hadn't spoken. Juliet stopped and pulled the boy into a fireman's hold, then assumed an even faster pace. Myles pounded a fist against her broad shoulder. "Jules, put me down."

"Fine." After complying, Juliet took a breath to speak again.

"And, yes, I know what you're thinking," Myles injected, "Anyone that knows you could say you are currently displeased 'cause that clerk is a civilian, and one cannot challenge a civilian for any dumb insult." Myles paused and quirked his head to the side, as if listening to her thoughts.

Juliet frowned. "I'm not that easy to read, otherwise I would lose against any formidable wrestlers. They would predict my moves."

"My reasonin' exactly," Myles repeated.

"Sure, Myles. We should get going. At the heart of a crowd in the mall is not a secure location."

Myles lifted the silver watch on his wrist. "Actually, I would be safer if we waited here for two minutes and forty five seconds."

Juliet flashed an eyebrow at the boy, a rather common expression for her these days. "Care to explain why two minutes and forty five seconds?"

"Well," Myles began in a patronizing tone. Juliet grabbed his wrist, leaving a smudge on his meticulously polished watch, and started walking. Myles continued even as he was tugged along. "The public bus was scheduled to arrive four minutes ago. Do to fluc-choo-ate-ing schedules, the passengers on the bus may unload precisely as we walk by."

"…So?"

"You said yourself that you are more concerned about bein' caught in the crossfire of an armed robbery than a deliberately targeted attack, unless we're with Artemis," the boy hissed through his missing teeth.

"And you think a thief will take a bus, rob a store, run, and then wait around to board the bus again?"

" 'Course not. Tha's ridiculous. The dumb thief that is actually robbing a mall isn't a professional, and they won't be able to properly mix with the crowd waiting for the bus. They'll try to park their car behind the bus so the plate isn't picked up on the security cameras, and bet against all the witnesses on the bus catchin' them. Which is a terrible bet to make, I might add."

"That's ridiculous, Myles. You sound more paranoid than Arty." Though the detail of the theory concerned her all over again. Would Myles follow in Artemis's path?

"…You're right. The chances against our presence during the robbery are astronomical. Give me a minute to form a more likely scenario that will prevent you from dragging me all the way to the Bentley."

Juliet ignored the request, but only dragged Myles to the glass doors of the shopping complex.

"Why'd we stop? We're almost out of this wretched place."

Juliet didn't answer directly. "There is the late bus. What kind of car did you say would by hanging in its shadow?"

"I didn't. Even someone with my depth of foresight cannot predict precisely what rusty old model of vehicle a petty criminal will drive."

"Then we have to go." Juliet hefted the stubborn boy over her shoulder a second time. The woman broke into a flat sprint for the lot. Less than ten seconds passed before she shoved Myles into the backseat of the Bentley. "Buckle. Now."

Usually, Myles would have given her a most scything remark about his booster seat before complying. Today, Juliet Butler had that look in her eye. "Yessir." Well, maybe he would still make time to be a little patronizing.

The second wasted was a mistake. Juliet threw the vehicle into gear and slammed into reverse. Myles was nearly thrown out of his seat and bumped his head. Fortunately, Juliet had to shift the car to drive, and Myles was allowed a moment to find a buckle. "Why the rush?" he asked, trying to sound as if he was not recently bashed against the seat back. He still hissed the 'sh' around his teeth.

"Do you see it? A rusty Toyota, hiding behind the bus. Just like you said."

"Jules, I told you. The chances against the scenario are astronomical. You're overreacting, and you smudged my watch more."

Juliet's voice turned unusually dark. "Myles, even you do not know how many times I have been put against incredible odds like this. From Artemis, I've come to rely on theories like the one you presented to me. I feel you Fowls are always ten steps ahead."

Myles seemingly dismissed her serious tone, and picked a frivolous detail from her statement. "Ten steps? I am ten miles ahead of the average four year old boy. Beck, perhaps, is closer to ten steps of average." Myles craned his neck to see Juliet's expression in the rearview mirror as she sped down the street. The light joke on Beckett's behalf did not have the effect it normally would. "I can't tell what you're thinking about, Jules. Personality- obviously, I know you like the back of my calculator. Body language- your tight shoulders are also obvious. That leaves a question of context. Does this have to do with your comment about Artemis?"

Juliet spared a moment to mentally slap herself. Artemis had a lot of secrets that weren't his to keep. It was not her place to even imply they existed, especially not to one of his astute, nosy little brothers. It was time to change the topic. "You certainly are ten miles ahead. Ten Myles, it suits you."

"Don't change the topic. What aren't you telling me?"

Juliet nearly growled. "So, you got Beck a book for Christmas. Have you got anything for Arty yet?"

Myles sighed. "Changing the subject? Usin' sloppy grammar to get my attention? Smart. I'll let it go." Myles flashed a sharp smile reminiscent of his teenage brother in question. "For now. And no, I don' have a present for Arty."

- Ten's Guardian -

Myles waltzed into the grand hall of the castle-mansion hybrid like he owned it. Well, his family did. Fowl Estate covered a large piece of lovely green land dotted by old oaks and young rowans on the outskirts of Dublin, Ireland. Myles liked to think of it as a fort out of a fairy tale occupied by knights with shining swords and gleaming armour. Of course, there were actual suits of armour standing as part of the décor in the halls, alongside old tapestries. Then, there was the array of weapons kept in the manor by the Butlers, but they were in lock-up. Myles frowned. The weapons lock-up was the one room in the fort he had not managed to break into, but how to get past the gel print scanner combined with a keypad?

"Myles, I don't like that expression. Devious is written all over your face," Juliet interrupted his line of thought.

Myles waved her off. "Where's Arty?"

"I wouldn't know. I just got home from the mall. Like you," she quipped dryly.

"Oh well. I have to speak to Beckett first. Will you bring my book to my room for me?"

"Alright." Juliet cast him a suspicious glance. "I'm heading to the gym after."

Myles watched her go, then held his hand up as if tickling the air. One by one, he ticked of seconds on his fingers. Precisely when he formed a fist, a dirt-caked, blonde boy bolted around the corner. "Myles!" Beckett exclaimed.

" 'Lo, Beck! I'm back from the bookstore."

Beckett held out his hand. "Look at the cricket I caught! 'S huge!" The cricket was flailing madly between both of the boy's hands.

Myles cringed, then silently scoffed himself. His squeamishness around any small, wriggling creatures was not completely irrational, yet made him feel quite childish. Although, the cricket in question wasn't exactly a small creature. "Beck, where exactly did you catch a cricket the size of a mouse?"

"The crickets are in the grass all around the manor."

I hope I don't find that in my lab later, or my bed, or my trousers. Myles cringed again, remembering the many beetles, mice, and snakes that soiled his clean laundry and ruined his experiments, courtesy of Beckett. Aloud he said, "I have fresh clay in my room. Do you want to make sculptures?"

"Still don't like art or crafts. Thought you don't like art, too."

" 'S not jus' art. You can…" Myles scrambled for an idea to convince Beckett to go along with his rudimentary plan. "You can make a mold of your cricket."

" 'Kay. Beck'll tell Artemis to make molds. You hold Hopper."

Myles squealed as the insect was shoved in his face. Swallowing, he accepted the creature. Its sharp feet poked into his soft hands. "I'll take good care of… Hopper."

Beckett smiled warmly. "She's not scary, Myles." Then he left.

Myles ran for his lab, otherwise known as the east half of his bedroom, as fast as his legs would allow. Panting, he shoved Hopper in an insect cage and furiously wiped his hands on his trousers. Myles stared unhappily at the cage before turning to his cupboards. He had to dig to find the clay in the back. It was not nearly as fresh as he had suggested to Beckett. Myles started to leave with the bag of clay in one hand and insect cage in the other. A thought caught him in the doorway. Artemis had once tried to explain severe remorse to him. A heavy topic for even adults, Artemis transliterated it to the vocabulary of four year as accurately as he could. Lying, stealing, and hurting others would make you feel bad for a long time and could even drive one beyond madness, Arty had said. Breaking into the weapons lockup wasn't hurting anyone and, as long as no one asked about his intentions, he wasn't lying. All the same, something felt slightly off.

Myles found Artemis in the lounge with Beckett. "I have clay!" he greeted.

Artemis was very similar to Myles between appearance and mannerisms, the former's love of art was not shared by the latter. He greeted, or didn't greet, his young brother in an identical fashion. "Clay, one of many apparatuses for an artist to choose from. However, I was under the impression that you favor mathematics and science over art."

Myles interpreted this as a question and answered, "I do, but, as you said, art can assist in developin' the organized and flex-uh-bull mind of a scientist." The line was nearly an exact quote. Artemis smiled but did not have an opportunity to respond.

Beckett shot across the room. "Hopper! Why is she in a cage?"

"Um," Myles said, "I didn't wanna drop her and step on her."

"Step on her?" Beckett echoed, horrified. "That's not very nice."

"My reasonin' exactly."

"We should begin, if you care for me to sculpt with you," Artemis said, "I ought to leave before long."

"Leave?" Beck crowed, "Where to? Can Beckett come with?"

Myles carried the cricket cage and clay to the heavy, antique coffee table. "I am curious as well. Our mother and father left for London a few days ago. You wish to leave us with Juliet?"

"First of all," Myles heard Artemis behind him, "You cannot attend, Beckett. I merely have another appointment with the doctor. You may feel consoled by the strong possibility that this is my final appointment."

Myles eyes widened and his thoughts stirred. Now he understood the pang of emotion he felt. Concealing his intention to enter the weapons room and potentially steal a jian or a pike for Beck didn't cause him any remorse at all. Whatever had caused Artemis's condition, his unique neurosis, must have been worse tenfold. Myles' own brother was hiding something terrible from him, and Juliet knew. Artemis's old bodyguard, Butler, probably knew. Their parents, Artemis Senior and Angeline Fowl, likely knew as well.

Beckett spoke again. "Means roaches to me, Arty. Bet you're still as loose headed as the guys in that American cop show."

Suddenly, the room seemed to be spinning around Myles. He braced himself against the coffee table. On a split decision, he decided to go ahead with his plan. He didn't want to pursue the topic at hand anymore. He trusted his family. Myles regained his composure before turning back to his brothers. "We don't want you to be late, Arty. Here." He grabbed two lumps of clay and pressed them into his brothers' hands. Then, he reached for his own material and, in a moment of calculated clumsiness, he knocked over the cage.

The freed cricket sprang towards Myles. For a moment, he genuinely screamed, and then deliberately flinched backwards into Artemis. "It's after me!" Myles yelled and divided to the floor. He snatched the clay that fell from Artemis's hand upon collision. "It's a man-eating cricket!" Myles ran from the room as quickly as he could without squishing the clay. Artemis and Beckett gazed mirthfully at the retreating figure of their brother. Neither boy suspected the response was staged.

Myles entered his lab a second time with a triumphant grin no one could see, though his victory did not hold the foul mix of emotions from his mind for long. Carefully, he tucked away the clay, though most of the fingerprints pressed in its surface had been squished when the clay fell to the floor. Mind full, he collapsed on his bed. He was curious about Juliet's words and her reaction to her slip, as usual. He was also certain his guess was correct. There were secrets watchfully held in the Fowl Manor.

Eventually, a light tap on the door pulled Myles from his stupor. He rose from the mattress and stood over a jumbled mass of electronics on his table. "Come in."

Artemis entered, wearing a strange expression. He sounded slightly off as he spoke. "Have you been in your lab this whole time?"

Myles steadily held his gaze on the table. "Yes. I've been workin' with my wiring."

"Ah." Artemis stepped closer, just across the narrow table from Myles. "I have to leave now. I'll see you again in a day. And remember…" Artemis leaned across the table and lightly tapped the center of Myles' forehead, where the third eye, the center of wisdom and knowledge, was said to rest. "Trust your intellect."

Myles finally looked his brother in the eye. He spoke more coldly then he intended. "What did you do?"

Artemis pulled away from him and arched an eyebrow. "I am unsure what you refer to, as I have done nothing to cause you distress." With a final goodbye, he fled.

Myles returned his gaze to the mass of wires, microchips, and a pair of headphones. They were part of a disassembled surveillance kit. The other part was hidden in Beck's room, in the one place it wouldn't be found- where Beck put it himself. Myles didn't intend to be caught off guard by the blonde boy, but it appeared he had something more significant to learn about now. His other sibling- his all-knowing mentor and great guardian- was also a liar. He shoved the wires in his pocket.

Myles rejoined Beckett in the lounge. The boy held his cricket once again. "Finally caught Hopper."

"Don't lose your grip on it now. What happened to all the clay?" The clay in question was spread across the coffee table and adjacent floor.

"Hopper doesn't like dumb clay. She kicks it when Beck wants to mold her."

"You could try to stun it," Myles suggested, "Hand soap stuns some insects." Myles kept soap in his lab for precisely that reason.

"I can stun her," Beckett concurred, "without washing her." He raised the clay sodden cricket between his hands, flicked one wrist, and snapped its head to the side with a sickening crunch.

"Ewww!" Myles responded eloquently, "You killed it!"

"…So? Myles don' even like bugs." Beckett began wrapping clay around the tiny cadaver.

"You named it and spoke to it like a pet. Don't you care that you hurt it?"

"Eighty three crickets outside been tagged an named. Hopper was the big one." Beckett explained.

"You remember eighty three names, but you are unable to count past twenty?" Myles questioned.

Beckett shrugged. "Choose not to."

Myles watched Beckett work with the clay for a little while. He had no intentions of sculpting, himself. A voice sounded from the door of the lounge, providing Myles with an excuse to leave. "Ten Myles! You ought to see this," Juliet said.

Myles moved to her side. She handed him a smart phone. "I was just watching the news in the gym. I almost wasn't surprised."

An excessively flashy label at the base of the screen read Mobile News. Above it was a story from today's headlines.

Robbery in Dublin. Three men, identification yet to be disclosed, detained during attempted armed robbery. Employee of local jeweler states, "I was finishing my shift. The guys, boys really, walked in swinging shotguns around. One of them locked the door, so security couldn't get in. Only they gathered all our merchandise and they couldn't open the door again." Fourth suspect seen driving a blue SUV with registration plate IRL 98-D-109820. Please call with any information.

Juliet explained, "The scenario was precisely as you explained it. It was later in the day, but the fourth hid behind the bus. It was a passenger that saw the license plate."

Myles returned the phone. "It was such a poor theory, too."

Juliet smiled. "Yet you were right. Just as you said, you're Ten Myles ahead."

"Although, even I couldn' predict the thieves would make a silly mistake."

"Aye. Although, Art-" Juliet suddenly cut off, before speaking again. "Art. I thought you weren't fond of crafts. Why are you sculpting with Beck?"

Myles gave her his best withering stare before answering. "I thought Beck'd like making a mold of his mammoth cricket."

"Right. Well, I ought to shower. Perhaps we could play a game out on the grounds afterwards? It may be cold, but the sun will be good for you. You're such a pale creature."

"You know…" Myles started in that condescending tone of his. Juliet waved him goodbye, and left before he could continue.

Myles turned to Beckett, whom was peeking into the hall. "I have some science to do. Later?"

"Science," Beckett echoed with a disapproving tone. Myles left as well, leaving Beckett alone once again.

The door in front of Myles suddenly seemed more imposing, though behind it lay nothing more than a bedroom. It was simply too fanciful to believe he could enter without Artemis knowing, even if his brother wasn't home. Of course, Myles had broken into Artemis's quarters before without consequence. Now, the room wasn't even kept locked. Myles entered and walked straight to a glass cabinet containing Professor Primate. He vaguely remembered the day nearly two years ago, when he returned to the manor and Artemis gave him the stuffed monkey without explaining why it had been destroyed. All that remained of his toy now was threads of the Professor's lab coat around the small mechanism that allowed him to talk. Myles flicked through the settings on the device, so it would record when it picked up sound. Usually, his brother would notice the change immediately. However, as Myles was well aware, Artemis often wasted effort trying not to act off of paranoia around his family.

Suddenly, Artemis's door opened. Myles replaced the tiny device quickly. "Um," he stuttered under glittering, suspicious eyes, "Aren't you sposed to be cleanin' up?"

"Less than observant, Ten. My hair is wet. I already showered." The woman frowned. "You actually thought I'd leave you two alone for more than twelve minutes? You've obviously gotten into trouble already, and we still have to see how much damage Beck has done."

Juliet exited and started toward the lounge. Myles struggled to keep up. "You're not even going to ask me what I was doing?"

"Are you planning on telling me precisely what just happened?"

"Yes?"

"Wrestlers are trained to see through bluffs, you know. Anyways, Artemis and potentially my brother can deal with you later." Juliet sounded far too cheerful for such a dire threat.

Juliet gaped in disbelief when she entered the lounge. Not only had Beckett abstained from further mess making, but he had also cleaned all the clay from the floor and was currently lounging with a grin on his face. Then a slimy, wet gob of earth fell on her head. "Now, you are definitely going to tell me what happened."

Beckett ran.

- Ten's Guardian -