It was dark in Ema's world. As the ending summer slowly started to darken the perfect blue sky, identical to the blue of Ema's eyes, she felt as if a cloud had settled on her heart, too. Maybe there was one thing that could help, one person that she wanted to meet. But how was she going to get all the way over to Ireland?

It was at breakfast one morning that her parents decided to bring up the topic of the family's upcoming vacation. For as long as Ema could remember, her parents had taken her and her siblings on an insane vacation to celebrate the last few weeks of summer. They had only ever missed on of these trips, the one that was meant to take place the summer that Noah and Katherine were born.

Ema sat at the table, wrapped tighter than a burrito in a thick quilt, stirring the flakes in the bowl that her mother had placed in front of her. She wasn't really to keen on eating, because of what she was about to ask her parents. She tried not to care; She tried to care about nothing but getting to Dublin International Airport by the end of the week.

She felt a gentle tap on her shoulder, and gladly dropped the unused spoon into the bowl, making a soft clinking sound as metal touched glass. Turning around to meet her mother's guilty face, she could have laughed, if she had been so inclined; it was the same face she had worn the day she had told a younger, happier Ema that she was going to have two new siblings.

"Ema, dear…." Mrs. Amoletas said slowly, choosing her words carefully. "Well, you know that we usually take a trip around this time of year, and, well, we'd already bought the tickets when you…urm…left, and we didn't want it to go to waste, so….." She didn't need to finish. She held out the ticket to her daughter, and smiled sheepishly. "We weren't sure that you'd actually want to go." Ema looked at the small, insignificant slip of paper that her mother had just handed her. And when she read the destination, her heart skipped a beat, then sped up, beating harder and faster than it ever had before. Maybe she would be alright; the ticket to happiness lay in her hand, and the shores were in sight. The cloud lifted.

"We're going to Ireland?!"

********

It was at breakfast on her third day in Ireland that Ema brought up the topic she had been meaning to ask for days. So, she took a deep breath, willed herself not to stutter. She had always been horrible at lying. She brushed her hair out of her eyes, which immediately caught her parents' attention.

"Umm, I was wondering…"Ema began slowly. She didn't like being the center of attention. "Well, could I possibly go out by myself today? I mean," She added quickly at the sight of her mother's expression. "Just for a while. Not all day, of course." She crossed her fingers under the table, for she didn't actually know how long she was going to be.

Her mother seemed wary about letting her now sixteen-year-old daughter roam around Dublin on her own (She needn't have worried; Ema wasn't planning on roaming Dublin at all), but her father just nodded, without even looking up from his paper. Ema would never be sure if he was actually listening or not. "Sure, go have fun…" He turned to the sports section, and was instantly gone. Ema stood, grinning ear to ear, and nearly forgot to uncross her fingers. "Just be back by lunch." He added, as an after-thought, but Ema was already out the door.

She hailed a cab from the side of the road, the motion of this taking nearly ten minutes. The cab she finally managed to hail was an old, beat-up looking monstrosity of a vehicle, which, Ema thought, had probably failed every safety requirement known to man, but she didn't care. She climbed in, and was greeted by the toothless smile of an old, bald man, his sparse hair combed over his scalp, as if this made him handsome, or something. Ema groaned internally, but she knew that if she waited for another cab, she could be there all day. She decided that bearing it, if not grinning in the process, was the best course of action.

"I need to get to Fowl Manor," Ema stated. She knew that she didn't have to elaborate; the Manor was one of the most historic buildings in Ireland.

The cabbie's face blanched, and Ema could understand why; Fowl Manor was also reputable for being one of the most haunted houses in Ireland. "W-w-why d'you wanna go there?" The cabbie's voice broke. Ema could have laughed, but she held it in.

"Relations," she said simply. This got the reaction that she was looking for. The cabbie didn't ask more questions, obviously thinking that Ema was some kind of under-cover billionaire come home to visit her rich family, despite her jeans and plain T-shirt. Ema knew that she only had enough money to get there by cab, and she had no idea on how she would ever get back.

********

The cabbie dropped Ema at the base of the hill on which Fowl Manor lay, a towering menace, and sped away without another glance behind him. Probably off to tell all of his cab-driving friends that he had carried the heir to the Fowl fortune, or the daughter of some Earl, Ema thought with a cold smile. Oh, how far from the truth he was, the reality being a regular American teenager, albeit an extremely smart teenager with very odd parentage, off to see a father who, in all honesty, probably didn't even know she existed. How normal.

Ema turned towards the hill she was going to have to climb, grimaced, and began her trudge up the hill. This molehill was defiantly beginning to seem like a mountain.

********

Artemis Fowl felt as though he were in a rut. He rarely left his study these days, rarely spoke to his wife, or anyone in general. The family funds were lower than usual, and he had had to fire almost half of his staff just to stay afloat. In a brief summary, the game of cards that is life hadn't dealt the Irishman the best hand.

He now sat at his desk, staring at the computer monitor as if his dull glare could somehow change the greatly diminished numbers that were shown in the Fowl bank account; Artemis had learned the hard way that marriage was not the best thing in the world for finances, especially when your wife was the most stubborn, spoiled brat ever to roam the greater Irish countryside.

Suddenly, Artemis was jolted out of his state of miserable self-pity by a quiet knock on the door. Without waiting for a reply from inside the so-called "private" study, Melanie Fowl burst into the room. A tall, beautiful blond woman, She appeared extremely young for her true age of thirty-four. "Arty, there's a little girl at the gate, asking for you. She says that it's important," The Spanish woman gushed. "I told her that you don't do school interviews, but she says that it's not for an interview. She looked about ten years old, with bright red hair. Said her name was Holly something-or-other. Do you know her?"

Artemis leapt put of his seat with a huge smile on his face, and Melanie looked a little put out at his reaction; she often enjoyed watching people being thrown out of the grounds. But Artemis didn't care what she thought, because, after all these years, Holly had come to see him. Sure, he had spoken to her many times over the past sixteen years, but not once had she come above ground, refusing every invitation politely by saying that she was too busy with work. And now she was standing at the gate, waiting to be let in. "Urm, let her in," Artemis said awkwardly after noticing that he had literally jumped for joy. He sat back down and smoothed his suit down while Melanie left the study, pouting ever so slightly; She was so used to getting what she wanted. The door slammed behind her.

Artemis felt light-headed. H couldn't help but remembering the last time that Holly had come for a visit, and what it resulted in. The letter was still on the bottom of his desk drawer, where he had stuffed it after reading it for what must have been the billionth time in the sixteen years since he had received it from a very confused postman. Artemis had thought the look on the poor man's face (after he had held what he must have thought was a post bomb for a few hours) was hilarious, but after reading the contence of the letter, he hadn't been to eager to laugh. "She must have been wrong," Artemis thought. "It must have been Kelp's child. Otherwise she never would have com back." It was true that Holly had never mentioned anything about it after the fact.

Another knock on the door startled him again. This was more visitors than his study usually had in a week, and it had only been ten minutes! "Come in!" Artemis said in a voice that was probably louder and higher-pitched than it need be. To keep himself from saying something even more stupid, he quickly took a sip of the Earl Grey tea that had been growing cold on his desk for the past hour

The door opened, and Artemis nearly gagged on his tea. For the girl that stood in the doorway, though she was a tiny red-head, was definitely not Holly Short.

********

As the tall woman led her through the grand halls of the Manor, Ema couldn't help but enjoy the sights that the age-old building offered; It had more priceless art than any art museum she had ever been in had, and the ancient structure itself was fascinating to someone like Ema. Still, neither the beautiful art nor the architecture could keep her from being slightly afraid of what she was about to do. And she hadn't been entirely truthful when she had said that her name was Holly Short. Okay, not really truthful at all, but the other sounded slightly less villainous.

They went up two flights of stairs, and were soon outside the door of the study. The woman knocked on the door, two soft raps, and then turned to Ema. "I'll leave you two alone, then. He seemed awfully glad to hear that it was you." She looked at Ema reproachfully, as though she were committing a horrendous crime. Then she spun around and marched back down the marble-tiled hallway just as the person inside the room shouted, "Come In!" in a rather high-pitched voice. Ema felt as though her knees were about to buckle from under her. Knowing that she was about to chicken out, and knowing that she couldn't, made her push open the door as fast as she could.

********

Artemis's heart sank as quickly as it had risen. Of course Holly wouldn't have come. Why, after all these years, would she have chosen today to come? He felt as though he would cry.

But then the anger set in. How dare this stupid little girl come here, pretending to be Holly Short to get inside the strong walls of the Manor. Though, she did look a bit like Holly; In fact, she looked a lot like Holly. Perhaps this was Holly's daughter. As he looked closer, he realized that she was obviously an elf; despite her height, her pointed ears gave it away. Her eyes were covered my sunglasses, so he couldn't see if in fact they were the same beautiful hazel colour.

He realized that he had been staring at the child for over a minute, with neither of them making a sound. He decided to break the awkward silence. "Who are you?" Okay, not the best way to greet a stranger, but he felt that it was appropriate for someone who had just managed to infiltrate the best security system money could buy by pretending to be someone that she wasn't.

The girl had to think for a minute. "Well….I guess I have two names…My adopted name is Emalline Amoletas, but my birth name was…."She paused again, as though the information she was about to give was slightly embarrassing. "Artemis Short." Her thin, pale face gave a soft pink glow, while Artemis felt his own face blanch.

"Is Holly your mother?" Artemis asked, after another rather awkward silence. It seemed like an odd question, but he was just trying to make conversation.

"Yes, if you could call her that." Emalline's voice became cold at the mention of her mother. Artemis thought of what she had said before…Adopted….So Holly had put her up for adoption, then. No wonder she was cold.

"So your father is….Kelp?" Artemis managed to get out. He knew that, had he tried to say his first name, he would have lost all uncaring abilities.

She didn't say anything this time; she merely shook her head and reached up to remove her glasses, and Artemis knew immediately who she was. He gasped. "H-h-how old are you?" he asked in a now shaky voice. All dignity gone.

Emalline sighed. "I just turned sixteen."

Artemis added it up, and the total nearly knocked him off of his chair. This wasn't real. Holly had been wrong. She wasn't here. This girl wasn't here. Not possible. He couldn't have a child!

But yet she stood there, her long, tapered fingers brushing her auburn hair from her milky white face, and her blue eyes. Perfect, sapphire-blue.

And he could have stood there forever, staring into the girl's eyes, his own eyes, copied exactly into her face.

The eyes of his daughter.

(A/N Haha. I am soooo evil. Anyhoo, I can promise those of you that care that this is NOT, I repeat NOT the end of the story. Yes, it's the end of Secritive, but there are actually two more stories in this series, and they just get better. (really, the third is the best) Anyway, I hape you enjoyed this, and the next instalment, Unknown, Will be up as soon as I can get it there! Lots of love to those who reviewed,

T. E. C.