Disclaimer: I'm really not Rick Riordan. Really, I'm not. Please believe me. Okay, thank you!

No, I'm not Eoin Colfer, either.

Responses to reviews:

luckyreader2000:

Awesome story i missed you a ton thanks for updating i was lazy to log in bye

Thank you! I will be trying to update every two weeks or so.

Guest:

Nowhere on wikipedia is that confirmed.
Also wikipedia.

Yeah, it doesn't anymore, but at the time when I posted the last chapter it did. Who knows? Maybe it was a prank. Still, it's clearly not just me who saw it because if you search 'Nico di Angelo Josh Peck' you get a few people mentioning. Also? Also what?

Thank you everyone who reviewed! I have an idea: what if every person who has favorited this story reviews this chapter? Doesn't have to be a long review. Just tell me what you think. Please?

I apologize for the Iron Man reference. I couldn't resist.

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Nothing would have made Commander Trouble Kelp deign to engage in a civil conversation with Artemis Fowl Junior. Nothing, that is, except the promise of a negotiation that could very well make his life much, much easier. So Trouble swallowed his pride, glowered, snapped at his inferior officers, and boarded the next shuttle to Tara, Ireland. At the moment he was flying over Dublin, cursing at the pollution worming its way into his breathing system.

"D'arvit," he muttered to himself as he caught the tell-tale scent of the smog. "Blasted mud men. At least Fowl uses solar panels now."

What seemed like hours later to his respiratory system but was in fact only eight minutes, he escaped Dublin itself and, three minutes later, its suburbs as well. The air was cleaner here, crisp and clear, and he could see the stars. He could even make out Canis Major, and Andromeda next to it, and... Orion.

Gosh, he really needed a reminder of that particular occurrence.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"What is it?" asked Hazel, leaning over to see what Jason was holding.

"Some sort of axe," said Jason slowly. Annabeth tutted.

"Let me see."

She grabbed the object and held it for a moment, frowning.

It seemed to be just what Jason had said: a long, simple, wooden-shafted axe with an axe blade on one side and a spike on the other, held together with leather binding.

Hazel watched as Annabeth's eyes widened, and her mouth opened slowly.
"I think- I think it's Heracles' axe," she whispered, her voice awed.

"Heracles? The Heracles?" Leo clarified. "Like the one that did all that stuff and then became a god? The one that we MET?"

"Yep. Heracles, son of Zeus. This is the axe he used to defeat the giant Diomedes and dig a trench around a peninsula to create an island and capture Podargos, Lampos, Xanthos and Deinos, the Mares of Diomedes." She looked up at them, her eyes shining. "This is the axe of a god."

Leo whistled.

"Do you want it, Jason? I mean, you have your toss-a-coin-weapon-of-chance thing, do you need an axe? If not, I'll take it."

Jason gave him a long look, taking in Leo's slightly wistful expression. Of course, Hazel realized, we all have our own weapons, except him. Ivlivus, Anaklusmos, Katoptris. My spatha, Annabeth's knife. Frank has his bow and arrows and various other weapons. Hell, even Nico has a sword, although admittedly it sucks souls and creeps everyone out.
Poor Leo.

"I think he should have it," Hazel said quietly. Both Jason and Leo looked at her, startled.

"What?"

"I said I think Leo should have it," she said, slightly louder.

"You do?" Leo asked. "Why?"

Hazel shrugged, knowing Leo would probably not appreciate her chain of logic.

"Okay," said Jason slowly, handing the axe to Leo, who grinned and stuck it in his belt.

"Thanks, Hazel! I got myself a godly axe!" Leo whooped.

"No problem," Hazel replied, permitting herself a small smile.

She glanced around. They were still alone in the gardens for some reason, but she had a bad feeling about staying longer.

"Let's move, guys."

Annabeth looked up.

"Good idea." She pulled Percy to his feet and beckoned to the others. "Come on."

The party stood tiredly up and followed Annabeth across the yard. Hazel trotted slightly to catch up to the daughter of Athena, and spoke quietly in her ear.

"What happened to Artemis and his butler?" she asked, flicking a strand of hair out of her face. The other girl shook her head.

"I don't know. But I think we should keep an eye out."

"Mm. Maybe one of us should scout ahead?"

"Good idea," said Annabeth approvingly. "Could you? I think I should stay with the group."

Hazel shivered at the though of being in these creepy gardens alone.

"I'm... not very sneaky."

Annabeth looked at her shrewdly, probably deducing the truth, but after a moment she conceded.

"Fine." She turned to the group and spoke slightly louder. "Hazel was saying we should have a scout, someone who can make sure we won't run into Fowl and his manservant or... anything else. Any volunteers?"

There was a silence, filled with the thoughts of people who, of course, would normally volunteer, but just did not feel like it at the moment. Frankly, Hazel understood their sentiments. They had not slept on the plane to Germany- ADHD, small seats and sleep were not generally found together- with the exception of Frank, whose lactose intolerance produced no such inhibitions, and Nico, who looked half dead anyway (then again, that was how he normally looked, so Hazel would retain judgement for the moment). And no one in their right mind would send Frank on a mission that required stealth. Nico, however...
Annabeth had clearly come to the same conclusion: she was staring at the son of Hades, who was apparently ignoring the entire conversation, lost in his own world.

"Nico...?" the blonde asked hopefully. He looked up, startled.

"What?"

"Could you scout out ahead a bit for us?" she explained patiently.

Nico scowled at her, kicking at the frozen ground, but she just looked at him with her eyebrows raised.

"Fine," Nico said grudgingly after a moment.

"Wonderful! Off you go!"

The group started off again as the Ghost King slunk ahead into the deepening gloom.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Butler had made a small detour to grab the artillery. Nothing much, just a few LEP stunners and lasers, his modified helmet, extra bullets for his Sig Sauer, a few coils of rope, and a really big gun- the latest model from Stark Industries.

Better loaded with weapons than sorry.

Butler shoved the door, slinging the rope over his shoulder, and stepped out into the cold dusk. He stood still for a moment, ignoring the biting air, and just listened. There was a faint sound coming from the west side of the gardens. A conversation, most probably. How immature of them to chat on the scene, he mused. Well, their loss is my gain.

If Artemis' smile could be compared to that of a vampire, Butler's was the feral grin of a wolf catching the scent of a helpless deer.

He followed the sound about ten meters before it stopped abruptly. Looks like they came to their senses. He kept heading in the same direction, albeit slightly more slowly, until he stopped suddenly. Something was wrong.

The night had pulled its strings tight and shut of the light completely at this point. The grounds were dark, but that wasn't a problem for Butler. He liked the dark. He tilted his head, trying to find some hint of the oddity of the picture. His senses were telling him that there was someone else near, but they were not making a sound.

Two can play at that game.

He snuck silently to the left, trying to get the manor behind him. And then he saw something move slightly in the darkness. He hefted his gun.

"I've got a lock on your position," he said in his most blood-curdling voice. "Move an inch and you'll be seeing Hell."

There was nothing for a moment, save the heavy silence that was louder than noise, until the other responded. A cold, humorless chuckle filled the night, and the shadows moved again. Butler quickly re-aimed his gun, and his target spoke.

"Already have. Do you feel like seeing it yourself? If not, drop your gun."

Butler made no move to oblige. His mind was reeling- who was he dealing with? Some sort of hardened criminal, no doubt. Assassin, most probably. He could deal with assassins. Unless the person was one of the group of adolescents. If so, there was not much room for experience, and the person was likely all bark and no bite. There was always the possibility he was like Juliet, but that was exceedingly unlikely. Still, it would not do Butler any good to underestimate his opponent.

"I said, drop your gun."

Butler felt something yank the weapon from his fingers, and reached for his trusty Sig Sauer.

"Don't," the other said calmly.

Butler stayed his fingers and raised both hands to shoulder-height.

"Who are you?" he growled into the murk.

"The Ghost King. And you... you are my prisoner."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Gosh, that was fun to write. I'm trying to make Nico a bit darker, because I thought he was a bit too cheery, how am I doing?

By the way, it's way too hard to do the survey of "which side are you rooting for" by PM, so there is now a poll for it on my profile. Please drop by and vote!

~Kero