What if…? The first

Author's Note: This story takes place around The Opal Deception.

Prologue

The hideout of Opal Koboi

Displeasure was the mood Opal's hoverchair detected from its moodbars. It compensated this by spraying a perfume that the pixie had made herself, Revenge's Sweet. Opal inhaled the fumes, her sprits lifting. Soon, phase three of her plan was moments away from starting, she had just activated the 'seeker' part of the LEP standard-issue seeker-sleeper. According to her hijacked feed, Root and Short were traveling down the magnastrip to E37 to investigate.

Opal briefly wondered which fairy was going to die. The Commander? This was her choice; if Root survived, he might be able to sway the IA over to his side, and he might die before she could kill him if his protégé was blown to bits. The captain would have less influence, but it might be safer to have her out of it first; she was more of a threat if she somehow evaded the bio-bomb and devised a plan against her.

The LEP transport just pulled into E37. Opal's heart began to race faster, finally, after all this time she was moments from killing her enemies.

"Mervall?" she trilled.

Mervall Brill, of the Brill twins, approached his employer carefully. She had been acting a little more ruthlessly than she usually was ever sense they had busted her out.

"Yes?" he asked, projecting an image of the obedient servant he was. Opal said nothing. She was turned his way, though it was impossible to tell through the dim lighting if she was looking at him.

"Yes?" Merv asked again. Still nothing. Perhaps she can't hear me, he thought, deciding to raise his voice a little.

"Yes?" he half-shouted to Opal. This time she did say something.

"Mervall!" she screeched. "How many times have I told you and your twin to not shout in the shuttle?!? And, stop looking at me!"

Merv bowed his head to his feet. "I am sorry Miss Koboi," he said, not bothering to point out she was breaking her rules, "but you were not answering me; I thought, perhaps, you were listening to a file."

Opal gave her unfortunate lackey a crafty smile. "So you would interrupt me when I am listening to a crucial piece of information?"

Merv opened his mouth to reply, but Opal silenced him with a hand. "Grab me a truffle!" she demanded. Right next to her hoverchair, there was a large bowl of any chocolate you could imagine.

"Yes, ma'am." Merv said, bowing as he approached the bowl. Selecting one at random, Merv handed the sweet over to Opal, keeping his face averted from hers. The pixie snatched it from Merv's hand and inspected it.

"Idiot!" Opal screeched, throwing the candy back at him. "This is not the truffle I wanted! Get me one! And get me one while I'm waiting!"

Every person has a breaking point, and Mervall Brill's had just snapped. He was sick and tired of all this kowtowing to his psychopathic boss. She was never satisfied with the work he and Scant brought her, she always insulted them, she thought she was so smart. Mervall's hand whipped his new blaster that Opal had given them and fired away at the pixie.

Opal saw what was happening and her eyes widened; she was totally unprepared for something like this. Before she could even half-formulate a plan, seven shots had been fired and struck her dead. Her last thought, before death claimed another was, D'arvit! I didn't even get to bump one of my enemies off.

Chapter I

E37

[Note: the beginning of this part is an excerpt from The Opal Deception page 74-76]

The access tunnel smelled like a blast furnace. Ancient swirls or melted ore hung from the roof, and the ground underfoot was cracked and treacherous. Each footfall punctured a crust of soot, leaving a trail of deep footprints. There was another set of footprints leading to the shadowy figure huddled a few feet from the chute itself.

"There," Root said.

"Got him," said Holly, resting the bull's-eye of her laser sight on the figure's trunk.

"Keep him covered," ordered the commander. "I'm going down."

Root advanced along the tunnel, keeping well out of Holly's line of fire. If Scalene did make a move, Holly would need a clear shot. But the general (if it was him) squatted immobile, his spine curled along the tunnel wall. His frame was covered by a full-length hooded cape.

The commander turned on his helmet PA, so he could be heard above the howl of core wind.

"You there. Stand facing the wall. Place your hands on your head."

The figure did not move. Holly had not expected it to. Root stepped closer, always cautious, knees bent, ready to dive to one side. He poked the figure's shoulder with his Neutrino 3000.

"On your feet, Scalene."

The poke was sufficient to knock the figure sideways. The goblin keeled over, landing faceup on the tunnel floor. Soot flakes fluttered around him like disturbed bats. The hood flopped to one side, revealing the figure's face: most important, the eyes.

"It's him," said Root. "He's been mesmerized."

The general's slitted eyes were bloodshot and vacant. This was a serious development, as it confirmed that somebody else had planned the escape, and Holly and Root had walked into a trap.

"I recommend we leave," said Holly. "Immediately."

"No," said Root, leaning over the goblin. "Now that we're here, we might as wel take Scalene back with us."

He placed his free hand on the goblin's collar, preparing to haul him to his feet. Holly's soldier sense was beating a tattoo on her skull. Something's going to happen, she thought. Something really bad.

However, today was the first time she could remember her instincts let her down. Nothing happened as her commander hefted the goblin over his shoulder. Perhaps, she was getting paranoid from Foaly's mentioning of Koboi. Or, perhaps she had somehow sensed what was going to happen in the mainstream of the Spacetime continuum multiverse [go ahead, wiki it]. As the elfin commander picked up the general, his cape fell back and Root's eyes were drawn to Scalene's chest.

"Wait a second," Root said pointing to the goblin's chest. Or, more accurately, the object on his chest. "What's this?"

Holly peered at the box, secured to Scalene's chest with a set of octo-bonds, and commented, "This looks like some sort of communicator."

Root frowned and said, "You're right, Captain, that's a plasma screen equipped with a two-way communication's mast." The elf leaned over General Scalene and inspected the casing for any markings. He found none, when he ran his onboard scanner over the object; the gadget didn't even register it as anything.

"Foaly," Root said into his helmet mike, "what do you make of this?" He nodded at the box.

"What do I make of what?" came Foaly's reply.

"You know perfectly well what!" Root roared at the centaur, his face going from its usual sunny disposition to brick red faster than one of those mudman 'traffic lights'. "This, I am talking about this thing right here!" he poked the mysterious box twice.

"Hmm, hang on," Foaly said, "I don't see anything at all except a haze of some kind. Give me a few seconds while a run a test. Can you scrape some of the paint off?"

Root fumed a bit, but did as the technical advisor said, scraped off a chunk of the box's paint. He deposited it in a specialized field tube that would run scans on whatever was put in it right down to the subatomic particle.

"D'arvit!" Foaly swore a few moments later.

"What, what is it, Foaly?" Root asked concernedly. "Should we pull out?"

Pull out, Foaly thought, laughing, typical Julius. Aloud, he said, "Well, that would be the safest course of action. Considering if that device is made out of what I think it is."

Root's patience wasn't something to be tested, even on the best of days, and today was certainly no exception. He opened his mouth to say something (that might have been unprintable), when Holly took up the initiative, and said what Root was thinking.

"Gnommish, Foaly." The captain said. "Just a straight answer: what is wrong with that box?"

Foaly gnashed his teeth, which would send a shiver through one just by hearing it (unless you're used to it), and replied, "The answer to the million dollar question is, I don't know. But I do know," He said, before Holly could toss a jibe at him, "that that box was painted with stealth ore."

Holly and Root glanced at each other; stealth ore absorbed every form of wave or signal known to fairy or man. It also, was extremely expensive to manufacture, the small box before them would have cost at least a few telephone numbers. They were dealing with money, a fairy, or human, that had lots and lots of money at their reserve.

"Right, Foaly, can you tell us if the box is activated?" Root asked looking uneasy at the strange cube.

Foaly shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea; my guess is that someone wants to talk with you two."

This was starting to become an odd trap; first they find Scalene half-dead and mesmerized, they uncover some box encoated with stealth ore. If this was supposed to be a trap, shouldn't they have had something happen? Perhaps, the terminal door would slide closed, losing their communications with the LEP mobile team. Then the main player shows their face and makes two fairy's days hell.

But, no. Nothing happened. Root decided to take advantage of this, turning to Holly and said, "Captain, I think we should be leaving; we'll leave Scalene here for Foaly and his team to investigate."

Holly nodded in agreement, relieved that they were going; she was sure that her soldier's sense must have had some merit. (And, it did, for, Commander Julius Root died in the mainstream universe.)

"So, we're back to square one, again?" she asked her commander.

Root snorted, "No, you heard Foaly say it: that communicator was coated in stealth-ore, it was pure chance nothing happened. We know whoever's involved in this has money. And we know someone with money, don't we?"

Holly nodded, "Let me guess, Artemis?"

Root smiled, "You said it, Captain, or," he said reaching into an inner pocket of his uniform, "Major Holly Short, your first assignment will be to tail our favorite mudboy."

Holly smiled, or at least, she tried to. What crossed her face was a grimace that looked as though she'd seen something ugly. The elfin police officer could almost hear the drone of station work as Julius pinned the major acorns on her shoulder lapels. Ugh.

"Now excuse me, I have to squeeze a confession out of a dwarf."

Munich, Germany

[Author's note: some more theft from TOD. Also, that last part in 'Munich' that 'ich' part? That's German for 'I' just a fun fact…]

Artemis had just finished composing his forged voicemail to Principal Guiney and hit the send button. When the educator next checked his phone, he would receive a message from Angeline Fowl, and she would not be in a good mood.

"Principal Guiney," The voice was unmistakably Angeline Fowl's, and the caller ID would confirm it. "I'm worried about Arty. He has a dose of food poisoning. His outlook is marvelous and he never complains, but we want him home with us. You understand. I put Arty on a plane home. I am surprised he got a dose of food poisoning under your care. We will talk more on your return."

That took care of the bothersome school for a few days. Plenty of time to authenticate his latest possession: The Fairy Thief. The dark half of Artemis felt an electric thrill at his trick, but his blasted conscience gave a tug of guiltiness, for using his mother's words to weave his wretch web of wicked lies.

He brushed the guilt off. A harmless lie, he reasoned, Butler will escort him back. As for stealing the painting, theft from another thief isn't a real crime. It was almost justifiable. Yes, said the angel of his head, but only if you give it back to the world.

He shook off his pesky conscience (where had he gotten that troublesome thing, anyway?), replying with his granite-hearted half, No, this painting is mine until someone can steal it away. That's the whole point.

Turning from his thoughts, Artemis redirected his attention to The Fairy Thief. What he wanted to do was pop the stopper on the tube's lid. But that could prove fatal. There was any number of little gifts the Messers could have left. An obvious trick would be to vacuum pack the canvas with a corrosive that would burn the painting when met with oxygen.

No, no, he would have to run some tests first. Nearly quarter of an hour later, Artemis had concluded from the air tests, that the tube was perfectly safe to open, which he did. The picture plopped on the table, tightly rolled at first, then rolling across the table. It must not have been in the tube long enough for it to retail form. The Irish boy weighed the corners down with gel sacs.

He stepped back, taking it in. It was exquisite, and Artemis knew at once that it was no fake. His eye for art took in the primary colors and layered brushwork. Herve's figures seemed to be composed of light. So beautifully were they painted that the picture seemed to sparkle. In the picture a swaddled baby slept in its sun-drenched cot, near an open window. A fairy with green wings and gossamer wings had alighted the on the windowsill and was preparing to snatch the baby from its cradle. Both the creature's feet were planted on the outside of the sill.

"It can't go in," Artemis muttered to himself. He was immediately surprised. How did he know? Relax, he told himself, possibly just something you've picked up on.

He was positive that the painting was real, though he would need to sample the paint to see if it was as old as it should be. Carefully, Artemis scraped a sliver from the painting, using a scalpel, and packaged it into a small tube.

He called to Butler in the suite's other room.

"Butler could you take this sample over to the university now. Remember, give it only to Christiana, and remind her that speed is vital."

There was no reply for a moment, but Artemis heard the doors open, and felt a strange sensation, as though something else should be happening. What, he couldn't figure out.

The manservant walked up to him and said, "Now? I would prefer to finish my security check first, then I'll go over."

Artemis highly doubted that there would be anyone stupid enough to pick a fight with him, but nodded, "If you must."

LEP HQ

Mulch couldn't believe it. In another three minutes, he would be free dwarf. Of course, he would only be free if he didn't self-incriminate himself. And why, would he do something like that? Answer: he wouldn't, much to Root's annoyance.

"SPILL IT CONVICT!" Root shouted, spittle spraying out. "DID YOU OR DID YOU NOT STEAL THE JULES RIMLET CUP?!!?!?" It was infuriating to the commander; he had the dwarf lifted against the wall, and Diggums was proving as resilient as usual.

"Geez, Julius, you shouldn't go and blow your top off like that; it could be a violation."

Root almost exploded right then, but somehow managed to calm himself. Don't worry, he told himself, you'll get Diggums back in a cell, where he belongs; I just have to catch him in a lie. Reining in his anger, Root threw Mulch back at his chair and said, "Just answer the question!"

Mulch clicked his tombstone teeth together, "I don't know, the law does say I don't have to."

Root trembled with rage. "Why," he challenged, "afraid?"

Mulch shot his eyebrows up and let them fall back, thinking it over. "Afraid? I would have to say 'yes' 'cause-"

"HA!" the commander triumphantly raised his fists, "I knew it! Got a something to hide, huh?"

"No, I'm afraid…" Mulch sighed dramatically, "that you're…"

"What?!?" the purple faced commander half-shouted.

"…that you're outta time," the dwarf replied scooting out of his chair and walking over to the door. "You gonna let me out?" he asked motioning to the door.

Root breathed deeply, "You win this time, convict—"

"That's Mister Diggums." Mulch corrected.

"—but, I'll get you next time." Julius Root finished, squinting at his adversary, swiping the security door.

Mulch stifled a snigger and said, "You wish, Julius," before exiting the LEP building. That mudboy sure did me a favor, Mulch thought, maybe I won't steal from his house, for now

Chapter II

Several weeks later…

Fowl Manor

Artemis Fowl the second was being followed. It wasn't a question of paranoia, it was a simple fact. Somehow, he just seemed to get…impulses of someone or something around him. He rounded a section of the Manor's extensive garden, and was going for a walk through a trail in the forest area. Relax, he though, I'm sure your imaginary stalker has better things to do than follow some kid around. He was instantly appalled at what he'd just said. 'Some kid'? Honestly, there weren't many other 'kids' that had engaged in half the activities he had done.

He came to a clearing on the trail; it was circular with a small waterfall and pool on the far west side. Without thinking, Artemis whipped hi head around to an area 43° to his right about thirty or forty feet in the air. What was he supposed to be seeing? He saw nothing, barely a shimmer and that could have been water evaporation; it was, after all, 99° out today. But no, there seemed to be more to this mist than met the eyes, perhaps he could investigate it later. Still, how do you track mist? Maybe it's not mist, he answered himself, maybe it's something moving at high vibrations so intense that the eye cannot register more than a haze like area?

Before he could ponder this further, the Irish youth heard a rustling from a clump of shrubs off to the left and looked worriedly from left to right. I should have brought Butler, he thought, panicking slightly, and now I am going to pay. His imaginary stalker was now a reality, and there was nothing he could do to save himself. The braches of a nearby bush snapped and cracked getting more violently ripped away as the assassin tore through the underbrush.

A section parted, or more accurately, a section was ripped out, to reveal a small person of perhaps four or five feet in height. Artemis's blood chilled. This man was, no doubt, here to kill him. Assassins cannot be reasoned with, nor bargained with. Artemis would still try.

"Can I help you?" he asked, knowing just how he could 'help' this man.

The short man, who turned out to be an American man of mid-forties, walked up to the Irish boy, never taking his eyes off his prey. And that's what I am, Artemis thought, just the prey; this man is the predator. Artemis recalled from the top-ten list of hitters, one was American, surprisingly enough. A man that was known only as 'the Jackal.' He was at the top of the list for wanted killers, most paid, most brutal executions all the things you wouldn't want your executer to have.

The Jackal approached and brought with him an aura of coldness. A pair of wraparound sunglasses sat atop the bridge of his nose. Artemis knew that behind those sunglasses would lay a pair of eyes that would show no mercy.

"Are you Artemis Fowl?" Four words. Four words that the two people knew were extremely unnecessary. Had Artemis not been in such a serious situation, he may have replied with a condescending smirk and say, "Why, of course." But he did not. This situation required calmness to exit the forest unharmed and alive.

He cautiously swung his head from side to side in an attempt to see if the Jackal was talking to him. "Who, me?"

The killer's lip curled into a sneer no man could ever recreate. "You're the only one here aren't, Artemis? I know that you are Artemis Fowl the second, born January ninth nineteen-ninety-four [if my calculations are correct] in the New Hope department, as I have been following you for the past few weeks."

Artemis knew this man was telling the truth, and his heart sank. He was dead. No way out now. While he had figured out who his unseen stalker was, he felt that this was not the stalker. Sure, he'd been following Artemis for a while, but Artemis was still uncertain. "What do you want?" Artemis asked, impatient with this man's toying with him. He knew it wasn't good to try and make lies if the man had been following him.

The assassin chuckled. "What do I, personally want? Or why was I sent here?"

Artemis groaned internally, another wise-ass. "I suppose the latter will do, though it might be wise to know the former."

"It might." The assassin concurred. "I believe I haven't introduced myself. I am the Jackal. I was sent here with one simple objective."

Artemis wasn't going to give Jackal the satisfaction of Artemis breaking down. He stood, not saying a word the despicable man, looking at him.

The Jackal seemed to know he wasn't going to get a word out of Artemis, so he continued. "What might it be, you ask?" He chuckled slightly. "It is so simple, that it is almost an insult to me. I was sent here to see if you knew the whereabouts of a piece of artwork called The Fairy Thief."

Realization dawned in Artemis's eyes. This man must have been hired by Crane and Sparrow to see if he, Artemis, had stolen their prize.

"I don't believe I know what you're talking about Mr….Jackal." Artemis replied shaking his head.

Whether the assassin was angered by this, Artemis wasn't left in doubt. The Jackal's lip curled into a sneer and he replied with a laugh, "Oh you don't? And what might be in that tube I saw you bring back fromMunich?"

This man knew his game, as he should for being in the business for nearly twenty years and counting. "What do you want with it?" The Irish youth asked. "It doesn't belong to you."

"Nor you," Jackal answered. "I was just assigned to retrieve it and I know you have it. It's up to you now, Fowl. Either you tell me where the painting is, or I will force you to tell me."

Artemis sighed; it was a Morton's Fork as the saying goes, faced between two equally unpleasant choices. Both would result in Artemis losing The Fairy Thief. This wouldn't bode well as he had worked for months to find the missing work of Herve's. Still, better to be able to give it up and have a chance of redemption.

"Very well," Artemis answered. "It is in my house; I shall go get then?"

The coldhearted assassin laughed again. "Oh and come back with your associate, Butler? No, no, you will tell me where it is, and I will get and be on my way." This was a lie, as soon as he knew where the Fowl kid had it, he had been ordered to kill him as painfully as possible.

Artemis was foiled again by this man as he had been planning on alerting Butler to this man when he got back to the Manor. "It seems I have no choice." Artemis said.

The Jackal shook his head. "None."

Artemis nodded his head. "Alright," he said. "It is in a wall safe in my room, on the second floor. The numbers to open it are zero-one-zero-nine."

The murderer looked Artemis in the eyes and reached into an inner pocket in his jacket, starting to pull his gun out, as he had no more use for the Fowl kid. Though the Irish couldn't see Jackal's eyes, he knew the rest of his sinister plan. Artemis's eyes widened in shock and his mouth opened slightly to yell for help or in fright was anyone's guess, for at that moment, a shot rang out across the air, and one sank to the ground, unlikely to reawaken upon these grounds.

Holly had been particularly relishing her latest assignment, monitor Artemis Fowl II for signs of cheating the LEP's mind wipe, for two reasons: One, it gave her an excuse to be above ground and enjoy the surface air one more time before her new job confined her to the depths of Haven. It was also, as she discovered, to her delight and disappointment, a pointless assignment that was completely unnecessary.

This Artemis, she was watching, was, to her disappointment, the evil one, before he was changed by the fairy people. He had gone back to his old personality and his old ideals. But he did seem to have gained a conscience, to Holly's delight, and it brought her some pride to see that she had that much of an impact on him.

In Layman's terms, this Artemis wasn't the person who had sent that mysterious cube, which had apparently been packed with an explosive, as Foaly's team had revealed. So, Holly could enjoy her time above ground and not worry bout being in danger. Of course, if Root found out she was wasting their time with this mission, he'd probably get her back Traffic faster than a carrot down Foaly's gullet.

It had been fun, seeing Artemis go about his daily routines without having to go some other wild and crazy adventure. The only thing that honestly had worried her was at the various times when Artemis seemed to know she was there. He wouldn't say anything, but he would look exactly to where she was watching from.

Holly was no psychiatrist, but he mudboy looked like he was suffering from…depression. Like he was waiting for something better to come along. She also noticed that, at random times, he would take to sitting down somewhere, and cry. This startled her more than anything. What was the cause? She had a nasty feeling that her and the People had something to do with that.

She had followed him and Butler to Germany and saw their heist of a painting called The Fairy Thief. It had disappointed her to see Artemis back to his old tricks, though she tried to convince herself it wasn't her fault as Artemis had chosen that life before he met the People. Was it mere coincidence of Artemis sudden consumption over fairies? Holly didn't think so…

Stop obsessing over that, she told herself, that was weeks ago…

Indeed it had been, Holly was wondering how much longer she was going to draw this mission out. She kept telling herself she'd tell Root tomorrow, and then it became the next day, and after that, the next day.

Holly was pulled out of dreamland abruptly as Artemis swung his head straight at her. Their eyes met. Holly's widened, Artemis may have sometimes been lucky and "spotted" her, but they had never met eyes. It was rather creepy, and she breathed a sigh of relief when the mudboy looked away. Her relief didn't last long, for, Artemis's attention was now focused on a patch of landscaping and she saw, to her horror, a man step out, and it wasn't Butler…

The called himself "the Jackal" and said he was sent to get The Fairy Thief. Good, Holly thought, it's not Artemis's anyway. Though, as the scene unfolded, Holly's slight pleasure evaporated into horror as she saw Jackal (who was quite rightly named) start to pull a gun on Artemis. He might not have earned that painting, but he didn't deserve to die over it, not in Holly's opinion.

The elfin major's hand had drawn her Neutrino 3000 up and fired it, nanoseconds before the assassin was going to fire his pistol, Jackal went down, both humans had seen the pulsing blue beam hit him. However, quick as the elf may have been, she hadn't been quick enough to stop him before that devious creature, Jackal, fired his weapon.

A bullet whizzed past Artemis's head. He had just discovered that he had two stalkers now. The first one was the Jackal, who had been dispatched by a blue laser beam that had emitted from around the area the haze Artemis had seen earlier. The haze had moved towards where the assassin lay. Instinctively, Artemis turned and ran from this mysterious anomaly, heading back to Fowl Manor.

Holly swooped down to Artemis's assassin. Artemis had set off, at a run, surprisingly enough, towards his house. All the better as Holly had work modifying this guy's brain. Holly wiped his mind of his mission entirely and modified his past life so he would wake up and think he was a priest who supported all religions. For those of you interested, Jackal woke up and went off to become a servant of God and lead the next Crusade.

Holly meanwhile, was called back down to Haven by Commander Root. All Neutrinos today are armed with a trigger that alerts the LEP base of when, where, and who fired a shot off. (But, being the Artemis Fowl geeks you are, you all probably knew that already, huh?)

When Root found out why Holly had fired and learned she had been wasting their time, he nearly had that heart attack the office was betting on.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, SHORT?!!?!?!? WHY DO YOU STILL DISOBEY ORDERS AND AUTHORITY?!?!?!?!?"

Holly's eardrums were almost blown out by the noise; her magic actually sparked a bit to repair minor damages to the drum. She looked down at her feet and mumbled something back to the near-black faced Root.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!?!!?!?!?!!?!" he roared, his volume quieter than before, as his throat had started to go raw.

"I said, I wasn't completely sure if Artemis was still aware of the People or not." Holly answered, still talking to her feet, not thinking it safe to look him in the eye.

"YOU'RE A MAJOR! YOU'RE PROMOTED BECAUSE YOU CAN MAKE THOSE DECIONS BETTER THAN THE OTHER DOLTS!"

"Not that I wanted to be promoted," Holly muttered under her breath, instantly wishing she hadn't. Root's head shot up.

"What!?!?" He shouted.

Holly recoiled slightly. "Nothing, sir, nothing."

Root grunted in disbelief, but dropped it. "Right, we're gonna get this settled once and for, go aboveground and interrogate Fowl. See what he knows."

Holly nodded her head. "Yessir, very well, sir." She turned and left his office, heading to Foaly's lab for equipment.

The commander just got a chill. A chill he recognized from about two years ago, December, an easy enough mission blotched by unforeseen elements…

About a week later…

England

The Messer, Crane, looked at his cell. Should I call him? he thought, a frown rolling across his face. His partner, Sparrow, was a little more impatient then he.

"For pity's sake!" Sparrow cried out, finally. "Just call that jackal up and find out what happened."

"Oh, don't get your panties in a twist old chap," Crane replied casually. "Things like these have to be taken lightly, friend. We both know he's a bit of a loon; we don't want to anger him now do we?"

Sparrow rolled his eyes. "Fine, if you're not man enough, I'll do it!. But," He added, reaching for the phone, "don't expect me to pay for the afternoon tea."

"Like I care." Crane retorted, handing his phone over.

Sparrow dialed in six numbers they had both committed to memory. It rung once. Twice. Three times. After the eighth ring, a computerized female voice told him that his caller was not available and to, please, leave a message after the tone.

Fuming slightly, Sparrow said, rather heatedly "Jackal, this is Crane and Sparrow, where re you? And what's going on with that Fowl boy? Hmm? Did you recover our painting? Why haven't you been giving us our daily reports? Call us back soon."

Hanging up the phone, Sparrow looked at Crane, forced a smile and said, "There we are. That wasn't too painful was it?"

Crane shook his head "Not yet, but I wouldn't want to see Jackal mad at someone."

"Nor I." Sparrow agreed.

"You don't think something may have happened to him do you?" Crane asked a look of a worry on his face. "I mean this kid is said to have been in over three continents in the same day, same hour, in fact!"

"What, I ask you, could take down an expert assassin of his class?" Sparrow said.

"You know how that old saying goes, 'It only takes one…'I think it's time we go to plan 'B.' Give me the phone."

Sparrow was frowning a bit, but relinquished the wafer thin phone. "If you must."

Artemis stepped out of the shower. He shook his head to dislodge some excess water from his hair before blow drying it. After he hung it up, he picked up his comb and brushed his hair back in its traditional style. He had pulled a white robe on and dropped his towels off in the chute leading to the basement level laundry room.

Artemis decided to do some computer work before getting dressed. Stepping in the study, he stopped only to view his prized possession, The Fairy Thief, hidden behind a crafty wall locker. An idea he had inspired from The Thomas Crown Affair. He smirked as he sat down at a computer terminal. The smirk vanished in an instant. Someone, or something, was here.

He scanned the room. Empty. Why wouldn't it? He had already seen the other stalker could turn invisible. But she—or he—Artemis supposed hadn't proved to want him to die. She (he didn't know why he felt it was a girl; it just did) had a perfect opportunity to make mincemeat out of him in the forest, when she saved him from Jackal.

Squinting around the room again, Artemis spotted a slight haze in the corner, slightly raised off the ground. It was the haze.

"Hello?" Artemis asked. A quote visited his head, when you look into the Abyss, the Abyss looks into you. The haze rippled and from it, a girl of three feet came to view. Artemis stepped back involuntarily. This was not a child, but she wasn't a normal human, either.

Curiosity overcame the small portion of fear that grasped him. Artemis took a step forward and asked, "Who are you?" Noticing her pointed ears he added, "Pointed ears? Real I would assume?"

The girl smiled, it was one that could be categorized as one an old friend might give another. "Arty, Arty, Arty. Always looking for a way out… These are real, and my name, as you knew, is Holly Short."

Artemis nodded, taking this in. "Real pointed ears? Hmmm. I would guess you are not a human. Possibly a fairy; many people have wrote records of them."

Holly snorted a bit. "I doubt half their information is accurate."

"Accurate enough for me to have gained information to aid me in my various plans concerning the fairy people," Artemis retorted, his lower lip curling.

Holly's mouth gaped. "Artemis…? Do you know who I am?" How could he have cheated the mind wipe? Did this mean he was behind the thing at E37 after all?

"Obviously, you don't know me that well, Miss Short. I can conclude we must have met sometime in the Past, and that I must have made some sort of contact to have you be here now." Artemis was wearing one of his snide know-it-all smiles.

Holly fumed. "Well excuuuuuuse me! I don't suppose we can all be geniuses around here."

"No, that is my job," Artemis replied, not taking an eye off the fairy creature. "What I would like to know, is why you're here and what you want from me."

Holly nodded. "Fair enough. Where do you want me to start?"

"Well, I am not one for clichés, but I suppose the begin—"

Before Artemis could finish his sentence, the double doors to the study banged open. Holly swore, "D'Arvit!" and buzzed up her shield. Artemis was left to handle the new comer alone. What a strange fellow he was too. Even shorter than the fairy, a mass of wriggling hair sprouted from every inch on his body. A stench came with the man also, he had a gilded pendant strung around his neck. Artemis could tell instantly that the gold was airbrushed; parts of it had flaked off. The man's or more accurately, dwarf's name, was Mulch Diggums.

"Hey, Earth to mudboy!" He said, plopping down on a leather swivel chair, spinning slightly.

"Can I help you?" Artemis asked, sick and tired of all this drama. "And how did you get in here?"

Mulch snorted. "Ha! How did I get in? You might as well have put a welcome mat on out. I tell ya… You got some great clay near the wine cellar, though."

Artemis opened his mouth to reply, but the fairy creature beat him to the punch. "Mulch Diggums! What are you doing here?"

"Mulch's mouth split into a grin. "Why I should ask you, Holly. You're the odd creature intruding on Master Fowl's property."

"I'm on a mission. National security stuff. You wouldn't care."

"Oh and I suppose me breaking you guys into Koboi labs was just for kicks, huh?" Mulch shook his head. "Well, even though I was blackmailed to, I still tried to help."

Holly, put her hands on her hips. "Well—"

"Excuse me." Artemis said, putting his hands up. "I seem to have two intruders. Both seem to have known me somehow. Tell me about everything right now, or I will bring Butler up. I suppose you know who he is?" He added, a frown forming across his face.

"Alright mudboy, alright. You wanna know what's 'going on?' Here," Mulch said, thrusting the pendant to the Irish youth. "Why don't you take a peek at this?"

Holly eyed the pendant suspiciously. "Why are you giving Artemis his pendant back? How's that supposed to help?"

"It's not a pendant," Artemis answered, before Mulch could. "It's a disk."

Chicago, Illinois, America

Crane and his equally dastardly partner, Sparrow, walked through the double doors of the Chicago Police Department. Sparrow strode up to a woman behind a desk, shuffling papers, trying to look more important than she was.

"Can I help you?" She asked rather snidely.

Crane and Sparrow looked at each other. Sparrow took the initiative.

"Eh," he said. "We, m'dear, are here to meet with a prisoner here. We made an appointment several days ago."

The woman sighed with boredom. "Names?" She asked, not even bothering to give them the common courtesy to compose a full sentence.

Crane rubbed his temples. "Crane and Sparrow." He answered.

The woman sighed again, popping the gum she had been chewing. She clicked s few more keys on her computer. "Alright," she said eventually. "Come this way." She stepped out of the booth and led the pair up two flights of twisting stairways, down three long hallways to a stainless steel room, where they were shepherded in and told to wait.

A few minutes later, the silence of the room was broken by the door opening and a man getting pushed in. The man was mid-forties, thin as a javelin. His wrists and fingers held welts from large pieces of jewelry that used to hang from him. He was outfitted in an orange suit that had the numbers "75476-76532" on a white patch up on the left breast pocket. His name was—

"Jon Spiro," Sparrow said, standing to shake his hand. "How nice to meet you."

Spiro took Sparrow's hand, but said nothing.

Crane cleared his throat and looked at Spiro. "I don't believe we really explained why we wanted to meet, did we?"

Spiro shook his head. "No, but you said it had something to do with that Irish kid, Fowl. As long as you're gonna do something bad to him, I'm all in.'

"Well, that's blooming great!" Sparrow said. "We do, as a matter of fact, have a little problem with the Fowl kid."

"And you obviously need something from me," Spiro replied. "Which means, I get to call the shots. Don't get me wrong: I wanna see something bad happen to Fowl; I just think I should get something for helping."

Crane gritted his teeth. "Alright, what do you want?"

Spiro's upper lip curled into a sneer. "Freedom, of course. I've heard you two are some of the best lawyers around. I help you, you get me out of here."

Sparrow nodded. "Seems fair enough. What say you?" He asked Crane.

"Oh, should be quite simple." Was all he said.

Spiro leaned forward at the table he had sat in. "Let's get down to the nitty-gritty," he said, remembering the last time he'd said that. "What do you need?"

Crane leaned forward in his chair too. "We've heard rumors, that you'd used Mafia resources to steal military plans for a robotic suit. Another rumor circulated that it was going to become your main guard. You had one prototype created. Could we have it?"

Spiro leaned back in his chair. "Nothing comes cheap anymore does it?"

Sparrow laughed. "Too true ol' boy. Price of gas went up to ten pounds a liter. Outrageous."

"Preposterous." Crane agreed.

"Now, back to business gentlemen?" Spiro asked, fingers drumming a beat on the stainless steel table.

Chapter III

Fowl Manor,

Nearly an hour had passed since Mulch had given Artemis his fairy disk. In that hour, Artemis was reeducated on goblin revolutions, kidnapping fairies, and a crazed business man. In that hour, Artemis went from a sadistic and untrustworthy creep to a sarcastic, decently trustable human being.

Mulch and Holly gave Artemis some time and a computer to sort out his thoughts. They couldn't really go anywhere; as the residents of Fowl Manor were present and accounted for, it was not safe for an elf and a dwarf to go roaming the house, not that they wanted to.

"Artemis?" Holly finally asked her patience spent.

"Yes Holly?" Artemis replied.

"Do you know who I am? Who he is?" She pointed at Mulch. "Do you know—"

"I don't want to sound rude interrupting you, but I do believe my memories are in order. Now, to business." He clasped his hands together, giving Holly his full attention. "What do you need?"

Once again, Holly was taken aback at his near-psychic ability to read people's minds. She was on the verge of saying, "How did you know we needed something?" when she realized a question like that would be foolish to ask a child prodigy.

"What makes you think we need something?" She asked, seeing if she could catch him off guard.

"Well, you here because of a problem you have underground, no? The danger is not imminent; you had been watching me for several weeks now. Nothing has suddenly happened where you would require my help; otherwise, you wouldn't have been surprised by Mulch's appearance. I would guess you need something from my head."

Holly laughed, remembering how pompous Artemis could be. "Alright, Mr. Child-Genius, if that's why I'm here, then tell me what happened in E37."

Artemis's amused expression he had been wearing didn't disappear. "And, what happened at E37?" He asked.

"You seriously don't know?" She asked, a frown escaping across her face.

Artemis shook his head, a look of perplection on his face. "No."

Holly squinted at him, frown not gone. The kid could be a pretty good actor when he wanted to. "I believe you, Artemis," she said, feeling a pang of guilt for her lie. "But I'm still required to ask you a few questions under the mesmer."

A nod from Artemis. "Very well Captain, go ahead."

Holly checked his eyes over for anything reflective (not that she knew he wore mirrored contact lenses last time) and summoned up her magic. "Artemis Fowl," she said her voice a bassy tone. "Jump around the room and act like a monkey."

This was her test for him. Something Artemis Fowl would never do, in his right mind of course. Artemis started out with a cartwheel that spun him up the wall of the Manor's study. Next, he grabbed onto one of the gothic arches and swung clear across the room crashing into a Victorian chair.

Holly winced, that looked as though it hurt. Nothing some blue sparks couldn't handle though. She healed several cuts and bruises that had been formed before turning him over to face her.

Artemis blinked his eyes open. They were met the site of Holly's looking back into his. Eyes were often called the window to one's soul. Her's must have been a joyful sort; it sparked across, along with some concern. This didn't last long, for, Holly had mesmerized him again and was asking her other question to him again.

"Do you have anything to do with what happened at E37?" She asked, eyes shining a deepened hazel.

Artemis shook his head, a smile playing on his face, one of the few real ones she had seen before. "No," he answered.

Holly frowned, confused as ever. On one hand, she was relieved Artemis hadn't gone back to being an enemy of the People. But on the other, there's some psycho-freak running around sending out bombs. [No, I am not talking about myself, thank you very much.]

Artemis awoke from his mesmer trance in somewhat of a daze. "Are we done?" He asked rising from his chair.

Holly nodded, a tinge of regret at their meeting ending so soon. "Yeah, Fowl."

"So what did happen at E37?" Artemis asked. "You never did tell me."

Holly smiled. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Well, me and Julius were there investigating—"

BOOOM! SMASH. A wall to the study had been incinerated by something. What it was, Holly didn't know. A heap of dust stood, blocking her view of it. All she could make out was its outline. It reminded her of the bad guy from Ironman, a movie Foaly insisted she watch. Artemis had been thrown from his chair and knocked against a pillar, opening a king-sized gash on his forehead.

"Artemis Fowl?!" A metallic voice rang out from the belly of the beast (a saying that will probably be used just the one time).

Artemis stared at the machine as the smoke cleared. A silver, eight foot tall, metallic behemoth met Artemis's stare. Where eyes should be, blue slits peered back at him. It appeared to be something from a comic book. [Hint, hint go here for more a picture: .org/wiki/Image:Ironmonger_]

The Irish youth gasped in shock at this…machine. "What do you want?" He asked, trying to maintain the status quo.

A round of laughter me Artemis's ears.

"What do we want?" The monger of iron asked. "Why, the same thing our friend, Jackal, wanted last week. The Fairy Thief."

Holly had never seen Artemis in such a state like now. He looked as though he were about to faint. Holly wasn't sure what she should do. Her weapons were only energy, meant to be used on organic materials, not machines. As far as she knew, this device might just absorb the output her Neutrino3000 gave. Before a particularly stupid plan could form, the study doors burst open revealing the large frame of—

"Butler!" Artemis yelled, interrupting the author. Well, guess what kid? You're gonna regret that. Oh yeah, how you're gonna regret that…

The bodyguard tore the shotgun he had strapped over his back off and aimed it at the machine, looking for a weak point. He clenched his teeth, squinted to fine-tune his aim and BOOM! A chunk of the iron beast came off. But that didn't stop it. It came forward with a mad determination.

What's he done this time? Butler thought as he eyed the room's occupants over a little more closely. A girl with pointed ears, some squat man wearing leather pants, how strange. Butler saw easily from the results of his first shot that this thing was made for combat, evasive action was called for.

Ripping a section of the floor's carpet back, Butler input a seven digit code that revealed a tunnel out of there, as the iron monger had blocked the only other entrance out of there.

"Artemis!" Butler shouted out. "Master Artemis! Come over here!" He saw the iron monster had grabbed a hold of Artemis with one gigantic fist. The girl with pointy ears was trying to wrench the fingers apart but served no avail. Butler surged forward and ripped the finger appendages out of their sockets slinging Artemis over his should as one might sling a scarf over their shoulder. He saw the short dwarf figure scramble into the tunnel, along with the pointy eared girl he jumped down and re-closed the hatch.

Chapter IV

A cloud of darkness surrounded the group. There was a snap! as Buler cracked on a glo-stick. The passageway was illuminated in an eerie green blaze of light. The manservant had never imagined that he would have to use this tunnel, which had been built as a smuggler's hold sixty years ago. He had taken precautions, when he had originally taken up his job as Artemis Fowl II's bodyguard, and stocked it with food and weapons.

"This way." He said pointing to a passage off to the right.

The group followed the giant down it, saying nothing. Several minutes after walking through the dark, drab corridor, they reached the old storage room. Butler clinked on a generator and the room was me with a penetrating light.

The light didn't make the room look any better. It had two doors leading off to a bathroom and an exit tunnel. The walls were a yellowed white. On the far wall was a kitchen with a sink, microwave, and refrigerator. A small collection of weaponry covered the wall to the right. A man could wage a small war with them. Bunk beds took the left side.

A wardrobe was found over there, to Artemis's relief, he grabbed a suit from there and went to the bathroom to change. Stepping out, ten minutes later, he found Holly, Butler, and Mulch seated at the table lying in the middle of the room. Butler was closing the lid of a laptop computer. He was looking at the elf and dwarf with a new light. Not a new light, Artemis realized, an old one. One he had when he knew of the People.

"Back with us, old friend?" Artemis asked, sitting down.

A smile claimed the bodyguard's face. "Just as much as you."

Artemis turned to Holly. "You never did get a chance to answer me: what did happen at E37?"

Holly shook her head, a grin spread on her face. "I told you, Mulch, persistent cuss isn't he?

"About a few weeks ago," she said, running her hands across her face, "Me and Julius—"

"'Julius and I,'" Artemis interrupted.

"Whatever," Holly said, a look of annoyance in her eye. "Anyway, we had heard Scalene had somehow broken out of jail. We tracked him down to E37 and found a message from him, telling for Julius and I," putting scorn on those words, "to meet inside E37."

"What happened next?" Butler asked, as Mulch rolled his eyes and checked the refrigerator.

Holly gritted her teeth. "We found Scalene unconscious and mesmerized against the chute wall. Attached to him was some sort of bomb. It had been outfitted with a communicator too. Someone had us up against a wall and got cold feet."

"Who?" Artemis asked, instantly feeling stupid for asking such a question.

"That's just it," Holly replied. "We don't know who. You were our first candidate."

Artemis frowned. "This sounds more like something Opal would do." he said shaking his head.

"Opal?" Mulch said, plopping down on his chair, arms full of food rations. "I thought she was in dream-land."

"She is," Holly said. "Unless she cloned herself or something."

"Have your people developed cloning?" Artemis inquired, a look of break through on his face.

Holly nodded. "Yes, but it's been banned for a couple decades."

"Breaking the law wouldn't stop her." Butler commented.

"No, not at all. But Opal would have gone through with killing us." Holly noted.

"'Us?'" Mulch asked. "What 'us?'"

Artemis tut tutted. "Mulch, don't be obtuse, Opal, after killing Holly and Julius—" Holly winced slightly "—she would have surely come after Butler and I. Then you, Mulch."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Mulch said, holding his hands up. "What makes you think she would have gone after me? I thought my help wasn't mentioned."

Holly laughed. "I'm sure she would have figured it out."

"But we're not sure it's her?" Mulch asked a quiver of fear in his voice.

"It's very doubtable it's her," Holly said, reassuring Mulch. "Tell me mudboy," Holly asked suddenly, punching his arm. "Why were those nutcases back there after you?"

Artemis grimaced. "If you have been watching me, Holly, then I'm sure you remember a week ago where a man by the name of 'Jackal' was attempting to relieve me of an object. An object I had stolen from his employer's vaults several weeks previous."

"Yeah, yeah," Holly cut in, "I know that Fairy Thief thing, right?"

Artemis nodded, "Exactly. Crane and Sparrow sent him to get it, and was just about to kill me, when you stepped in and saved me. I don't believe I did say 'thank you' did I?"

The elfin captain went red and said, "No, not that I expected one; police work is a thankless job sometimes."

Artemis laid a warm smile on his face. "I'll bet it is. Thank you, Holly."

Holly smirked. "Can't spend a thank you."

Artemis laughed. "Too true."

"Anyhow," Holly said, before they got too chummy. "These Crane and Sparrow people, they just want your painting back?"

Artemis nodded. "Yes, but it looks like they want a little payback, too."

"Why is it, we always seem to have a nutcase after us?" Butler grumbled, shaking his head in annoyance.

"Just your luck I suppose." Holly answered.

"Our luck?" Artemis asked, twisting his head towards her. "I was hoping you would help us defeat them."

Holly laughed, slapping the table. "Ha! This coming from Mister I-don't-do-anything-for-nothing? I say you're dreaming if that's what you think!"

The Irish youth sighed. "Very well, Captain, what will it take?"

Holly was going to stretch her fun out a little more. "My, my," she said, batting her eyelashes. "Is Master Fowl groveling?"

Artemis felt himself go red. He hoped no one else noticed. Judging from the snicker from Holly, however, his wish was not answered.

"If that's what it takes," he replied, nodding.

Holly smirked. "Well, well. Tell you what, Arty, why don't you give the LEP your assistance in finding the person who did plant that bomb, and we'll call it even."

Artemis nodded, wondering when in the world she had started calling him "Arty." "Fair enough." He extended his hand to her. She took it.

"Right," Butler said, getting up from the table walking to the gun rack. "You'll be needing a bigger gun to stop their thing." He hefted a large machine gun from the rack that looked as though it escaped a Schwarzenegger movie. "This should do it." He said, tossing it to Holly, who deftly caught it with one hand.

Butler selected machine guns and a grenade launchers checking and reloading each. Mulch, meanwhile, was sidling to the second entrance, trying to make himself look small and make himself scarce. Much to his disappoint meant, Artemis spotted him.

"Mulch," he said, drawing the other's attention the dwarf. "Are you leaving?"

Mulch gave a chuckle. Ten out of ten, mudboy. I don't have to get involved these little shenanigans, you know."

Artemis sighed dramatically. "No," he said. "I guess not. I guess I can't always rely on you, regardless of the commission payment."

Mulch stopped dead. Slowly, he turned around. "A commissioner's payment? Alright, mudboy, you have me. How much?"

Artemis shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, you tell me."

Mulch's eyes danced in excitement and greed. An actual paying job? Compared to the other things they've done, taking down two blood-sucking parasites should be relatively easy.

Holly smiled, at least Artemis knew how to play his hand.

"We should be getting a move on," Butler said, stocked with more weaponry than the average arms dealer had in stock.

"Yes," Artemis concurred. "As they say in that wretched romance book, 'best foot forward, young sir.'"

Holly raised an eyebrow. This mudboy reads romance? She shook her head. Next thing you'll know he'll be after some blonde…

Chapter V

The group trekked through the narrow tunnel leading out, where they could take care the Messrs. The passageway was cramped, even for fairies; Holly's claustrophobic [Hey! I spelled that right first try!!] nature stared to take her over. She shuddered at the thought that if this thing should collapse on them, it was doubtable they'd live long enough for Mulch to come back with help, if he did at all. She breathed deeply a few times, trying to suck the air in as noiselessly as possible, a hard task when all sounds are bounced off the walls amplifying several times louder.

"Are you alright, Holly?" Artemis asked, concern slipping into his voice.

Holly was thankful the tunnel was dark so that no one could see her blush. "I'm fine, Artemis. Why don't you just concentrate on figuring out how to help find that bomb sender?"

Artemis said nothing, preferring instead to continue the muddy journey through the ancient passage. The tunnel had several turnoffs where people could enter different smuggling holds, it was very easy to get lost in the dank tunnels. However, within ten minutes, a beam of sunlight appeared on the ceiling, marking the exit. Or entrance, depending on which perspective it's viewed.

Butler pushed it open, and a wave of light rolled across the assembled group. They scrambled out, elbowing and shoving to reach the sweet surface, enjoying that first breath aboveground.

They may have stood there for several minutes, simply relaxing and taking in the thrills of nature, but a mechanical behemoth shattered their thoughts. Never show fear in the face of fire. This was one of the philosophies Madame Ko had burned in her pupil's heads. That went hand in hand with, Always have an escape plan and never let them see you bleed.

Though Butler didn't think he'd regularly enjoy the company of giant killer robots, the manservant contain his urge to run away (a most intolerable defeat), and raised his machine gun and grenade launcher, pulling and holding their triggers down.

A barrage of gunfire and explosives rained around Crane and Sparrow's contraption, no signs of damage sown upon it. Butler gritted his teeth to stop them from chattering and threw a C4 packet at them, the kickback was enough to break is left arm, but it was worth it; the iron beast had stumbled and a gun barrel appeared damaged.

The two lawyers turned a gun turret on the bodyguard pelted him wih their own deadly arsenal. He was cut down; he sunk to the ground, blackness eating at the corners of his eyes. Perhaps in his moments of Death, Butler imagined what he saw, but it was a realistic hallucination, several short blue creatures running to him.

Artemis gasped, he saw Butler get shot, saw him fall to the ground, but refused to accept he was in any danger. Everything will be okay, he told himself. Holly will heal Butler immediately.

Looking to his left, where Holly last was, he saw she, too, was in trouble, a second machine sprang on them, and it was battling with Holly. The robot hit her face, Artemis heard a very audible crunch! as the bones in Holly's face broke. Blood ran from her nose, blue sparks dancing around her face, he effect was rather pretty. Artemis would have liked o stop and watch, but that wasn't an option.

"Mulch!" Artemis yelled out. He looked around. He didn't see the dwarf. Great, just great, the only one left, and he bailed!

Artemis was immensely glad, for the first time in his life, to be proven wrong, Mulch torpedoed out of the ground, next to the second machine, and stared ripping chunks of the mechanical monster out. This didn't do him much good, though, for, the robot picked the dwarf up, and threw him at the Manor wall. He hit the wall at over 60 miles an hour, and was knocked out cold.

Oh no, what am I going to do now? Artemis was now panicking, Butler, Holly, Mulch, all the main heroes, out for the count. What could he do?

"What in the name of Sir Isaac H. Newton is going on?!?!?"

Artemis thanked the Gods for someone's arrival to help. He turned around, his relief instantly turning to horror. His mother and father were running across the grounds to him, his father brandishing a Smith and Wesson revolver, Artemis had never seen his father carry a gun before, and it was an odd sight to see.

"No!" Artemis tried to signal them to get back. "Stay away! It's a trap!"

They didn't hear him, but saw his actions and misinterpreted them as signals to hurry over. They were just entering hearing range of their son, when the two machines jumped in front of the Fowl parents.

"I say," Sparrow said.

"This," Crane said, taking up Sparrow's statement. "is a private fight."

"And," Sparrow continued, "you are party crashers!"

"Time to die!" Crane said, all too gleeful to kill innocent bystanders with his new toy.

"Say 'hello' to our little friends!" Sparrow commanded, opening fire on Artemis I and Angeline Fowl. Their splattered body parts sullied the ground underfoot.

Artemis was beyond shock. None could comprehend the madness that just occurred in less than two minutes. He simply stood their, not believing it.

Butler was still alive, for the moment. The blue creatures he had seen earlier had landed on his chest. They were sucking strands of something out of him. At first, Butler thought it was his life force or something like tat, but realized they were taking away the pain. He was still injured, but his pain was buried—no, not buried, removed from his body. He still had a fight in him. But his arm was no use. He would have to carry just one gun. Butler unstrapped the machine gun, tightening the grenade launcher.

He rose to his feet. He grimaced in determination. He knew his injuries would take his life before Holly could wake up and help him. He knew what he had to do.

Artemis backed from his parent's bloodied corpses. He swallowed the urge to empty his stomach, trying to keep a cool head. Crane and Sparrow lazily advanced in their robots, mocking him with their words.

"Awwwww," Crane crooned out. "Poor whittle Arty-warty. He stoley fromed us and nows we coming for revengey!"

"You don't mess with the best," Sparrow added, advancing on Artemis. He gulped. What was he going to do? Should he even bother to try and do anything? Artemis stopped o seriously consider this. Perhaps it's all for the better, he thought. Mother, Father, Butler, Mulch, Holly. All dead or close to it. A tear ran down his face. A tear he ad been holding in for a long time. After that one, a flood followed.

Thunk! Thunk—clang! Artemis wiped his eyes, looked up, and saw, to his astonishment, Butler standing there, weapon in hand.

"Artemis," he said, his breath wheezing. "You must go…go now! I don'thave much longer, I have to destroy it."

Artemis nodded. "Yes sir."

"Go on, the blue men gave just a little more life. Get Holly, Mulch, get out of here. That's the last I ask of you."

Artemis nodded again. "Yes sir. It has truly been an honor to...have ever met you."

Butler grimaced. "Cut the chit-chat and jus get out of here."

Artemis ran, grabbing Mulch, somehow inheriting Butler's strength amd hurled Mulch back into the tunnel. He was almost afraid to go up to Holly, but Butler was rigging up the C4 explosives, and Crane and Sparrow were advancing on him. Artemis swallowed his fear and rolled Holly over, checking her pulse. Alive, thank the Gods! He dragged her down the tunnel with him and Mulch, closing the hatch, leaving them in pitch blackedness. Artemis prayed that Butler would find a way out alive. But the way he talked, it was as if he knew he was already dead…

BOOOOOOOOOM!!!

Artemis grimaced. Another one…gone…forever….

Artemis opened the trapdoor, hoping he was wrong. There were gore crusted machine parts, bodies ripped in half. Artemis regocnized the lifeless corpses of the Messrs. Artemis smiled.

"Good work, Butler," he whispered. He was avoiding looking much farther, but he knew avoiding the inevitable would not change the facts. And the facts were that Butler's body had been ripped in half, both his parents died. All in the same day. Artemis glanced back at the tunnel and saw Holly clambering up.

He knew now the pain and suffering she must have felt when her parents died. Her mother, killed by the pollutants of the mudmen. Her father, killed by more mudmen whilst aboveground, mistaken for an alien. She walked up to him.

"Oh Gods, Artemis," she said, putting a face to her mouth, spotting the Death around them. "Oh Gods, Artemis, oh, I'm so sorry. I can't believe it…Butler…you—your parents." She put a hand on his shoulder. He shook it off.

"This is all my fault!" He roared a rage in his voice that scared Holly. "I didn't need some painting, all this suffering for a [censored] painting?!"

Holly took a step back, she had never heard him swear or lose control. He always had a composed face, expressions measured just right. She patted his back.

Epilogue

Barcelona, Spain

One month later,

The French girl checked her watch before glancing out at the street again.

'"Keep the dart gun ready," she instructed a man with colorful hair and two crutches at his side. He simply stared at her, almost asking in silent thought if she was crazy. He certainly wouldn't give up a chance to capture a so-called demon, he owed Eric that much…

The girl stared hungrily at the street, anticipating the amount of power this demon could bring her, if they managed. She would be more remembered than that obnoxious Fowl boy. She wouldn't be surprised if he did somehow stumble onto her project and she had prepared for him. She almost welcomed his challenging.

Five seconds. Five seconds before the demon was supposed to turn up. She eagerly leaned forward in her seat. She wouldn't be surprised, though, if this turned out to be another false alarm. So far, most of the other's calculations were wrong, but this might just be the payoff.

One second. Zero seconds. Nothing. Minerva frowned, another dead end, she suspected as much, but it was still disappointing.

"Come on," she said standing up and grabbing her purse and coat. "Back to the plane."

The other men stood also, grabbing assorted coats and in Kong's case, crutches. Minerva turned to the door, waiting for her traveling companions. She really thought this would be the one. She shook her head. It was a good thing she happened to be staring at the road, for, she may have missed the demon who popped on to it, stepping from a vortex as casually as one may step out of a shower.

"He's here!" Minerva shouted excitedly. The men whirled to where her hand was pointing, and saw to their astonishment, the demon, he stood there, attempting to speaking a voice of clawed glass, before e disappeared in the time vortex once more.

Minerva smiled. He was off by several seconds, and several feet, but he made it. New calculations spun in her head. There was work to be done…