Chapter 9

~ The Valkyrie of the Opera, part one ~


So, here is the long (week) awaited series update; will Carlos stammer and loose his cool in front of Artemis, will he forget the piece of music he is to preform? find out in part one and two of "The Valkyrie of the Opera."


The Valkyrie of the Opera, part one

Arriving in a white tuxedo, flagged by his bodyguard Val, Carlos stormed to the door, ready to show off his talent.

Lady Val, as she liked to be called, was short for The Valkyrie, her title as well as reputation in her line of business. She would take on a Butler any day and give them a good challenge, if not for her problems with authority, she'd have been a Blue Diamond years ago. She actually favored old fashion weapons, a spear would do fine in her grasp, and would terrorize the enemy to no avail.

She stood tall, reaching just over six feet in her authoritative manor. Blond hair, fair skinned, and pale blue eyes showed her ancestry to be a cross of Icelandic and Welsh. She wore all white, as well; a flowing white cami which was diamond cut at the bottom, with threads dangling downward, bearing black beads, as well as pale rhinestones set centimeters higher. Flare style trousers, close to that of which you'd see on some Rock star from the 70's, the multiple layer verity which had the reflective material often mistaken for glitter. White stiletto heels, which looked incredibly painful to wear. Pale blue topaz set into sterling silver, dropped down in teardrop fashion from her ears, and a pale blue topaz dragon pendant rested right past her throat, complementing her eyes.

Rings, multiple rings, yet again pale blue topaz, covered her fingers, and sliver bracelets, of the sterling verity, were cast upon her writs with the grace of a goddess. Great for backhanding people, she often told people.

The weaponry upon her person was less then hopeful, but in the hands of a trained Killer, a plastic spoon would be harmful. Two ash, long, blunted sticks were inserted into her hair, keeping the blond curls up in one of those wacky duos that was half new age, and half old age. And only one throwing knife secured to her person, sewed into a secret compartment in her trousers.

Her features, sharp enough to cut you, stood out along with her muscular arms which weren't even trying to hide away, for the cami had no sleeves.

Her legs where long and looked like an athletes, nimble and powerful, ready to run a mile dash in five minutes. She hardly wore any make-up, yet today for maybe the fourth time of the year; she had applied it in the car. Eyeliner, blush, and a pale rose colored lipstick.

Carlos, was towered by her, his skin; slightly less pale, and eyes the color of his mother, emerald. His white tuxedo framed his body well, only one other boy of his age had worn it with such ease, and he was about to meet him. Brightly polished leather shoes, no sneakers here, adorned his feet, already size nine, a height of five feet and six inches; Carlos was an impressive specimen to all the ladies. His eyes had the certain gleam in them, that mysterious aura that made them go wild. His hair, coal black, shaggy and menacing; if hair could be menacing that is. He had been raised later then Artemis to rule a Criminal Empire, but that did not mean he was not sufficient enough to know the ins and outs of a scheme. He was practically drilled by Arno Blunt, over the years, and knew how to handle himself, something Artemis entrusted to Butler.

They were quite alike, them both, Artemis and Carlos. Both of them would inherit or already had inherited an Empire, both were masterful musicians, and both knew how to handle their bodyguards when needed. The only difference was Carlos was not a mastermind, he was smart, no doubt, but he didn't have that ability that kept Artemis ticking when he was finding and exploring the Fairy world. And Artemis didn't know combat, so even though they were quite alike, there were those minuscule things that changed the two.

"May we enter?" Carlos asked Val, his personal bodyguard and the slightest friend.

"I suppose," she said in her thick accent, which sounded like she exaggerated I and pronounced suppose as suppouse with a thick trailing of the word.

"I doubt any traps on such a- friendly, occasion." Her eyes instantly alert, she wormed her way to his side instead of following in his footsteps, her protective aura which Carlos had been able to identify quite some time ago now arose, and on the night went . . .


Artemis, was held up in his Study. His nerves were on end, and if you had snuck up on him and jumped out and yelled "Boo!" he'd flinch and spaz out. He didn't know how everyone would react, and he wasn't sure if he could provide such a wide mesmer as he hoped. The crowd would be wide and infested with a few reporters, as well as those people who would tell the press, and then doubtlessly the undercover reporter of a no-name magazine pretending to be a waiter.

Then there would be half a dozen security threats, not to mention most of them would arrive with their own guard. But Artemis had added some Fairy technology to help Butler's update on the system even more helpful . . . Not to even mention the laser's he'd installed to help with any stray pigeons, gods know how politicians and actors love their cars.

Artemis paced, his computers providing the only light within the room, which was immense, with as many computers he had anyway. The carpet, a miracle from an Indonesian Market, had not yet threadbared itself despite the many times he walked across it, day in and day out. He heard pounding coming from the Hallway, and seconds later, Butler walked in.

"Carlos is coming, new report from a friend of mine from the FBI. Guy by the name of Don, good source, the best."

"Carlos who, may I ask?" Artemis questioned/

"Carlos Frezetti, Carla's son, heir to the Frezetti Empire? They employed Mulch?"

Realization dawned Artemis's face, he didn't see Carla as family person.

"I shall be down within the hour, I must dress," he said, already wearing his finest Armani and best pair of shoes.

Butler had grown accustomed to his charge, and therefore knew he'd think on the subject for half an hour, finish his herbal tea, and be ready within forty minutes. Stepping outside, he called to his Sister, Juliet.

She washed in, literally looking like a wave in all her fabric. She looked like a duchess from folklore, the only change was the ring in her hair.

"It's ridicules he made me wear this, it's absolutely terrible, and it doesn't breath-"

"Worry about that on your own time, Juliet; announce Artemis's arrival to be in forty minutes."

"Fine . . . Brother, but you owe me for this," she said, waving her hands around her dress and hair in a dramatic manner.


Sliding down the banister, Artemis, dressed in the same shoes and suit, came down to meet the guests. This part of the Manor was almost uninhabited at the moment, but would soon be filled with the quests, with a crave for Lobster Bisque and a whole other 8 courses of the dinner.

The carpet, mainly red with black, yellow, and green mixed in, adorned the floor, and suits of armor lined the first floors walls. The ceiling of this section of the Manor, which was definitely more then two stories, looked like a dome. It was the lined with golden plaster, and a wide blood red pain spreads the ceiling, gold mixed in decrypting several different patterns that turned into each other.

Tables were filled with crystal goblets, china plaits, and silverware.
Silverware arranged in the traditional fashion, Artemis felt slightly overwhelmed with the immense number of chairs. Minerva would arrive any minute, and Artemis was slightly assured by this, she'd be able to hold back a few scientists with her intellect.

Artemis, arrived in the Living room, where everyone was politely mingling. Almost instantly, everyone stopped silent, a look between sadness and admiration in their eyes . . . one boy clapped, and the spell broke.

Suddenly, the room filled with the ring of clapping, and the symphony played one of his favorite pieces. Artemis eyes met the boy who first clapped; he was met with emerald, framed by shaggy black hair. He wore a white tuxedo, and his attitude was unflustered, with the backup of a tall, elegant Lady, who looked like she had just emerged from a portal from three different dimensions.

Smiling quaintly to them, Artemis took the seat of honor, a razed podium which was close to the Symphony seats. They where a small one, but one could not expect the 100 or more musicians with all their instruments to pack in. Two pianos, one occupied, the other not so much. Artemis had just remembered why. It was the seat for a pianist who was randomly chosen by his Parents. He had a vague feeling he knew who they had chosen.

Artemis just stood there, for a whole of about three seconds, then was mobbed down and was talked to the rest of the time which remained till dinner.

He was hesitant to talk to them, at first, but as people kept on coming, the more he realized they wouldn't ask him were he'd been.

That realization was soon broken when a snooty actress by the name Elva McKenry asked him. She wanted to know so she could get in depth with her character, Angeline Fowl, for the remake of "Death of a Visionary" now to be renamed "Ireland's Child." Artemis was sad for the outcome of the movie, it would trash his Mother's reputation.

And then it happened; Carlos was in front of him, materialized from the crowd, along with the intimidating Lady. Butler had long before been at Artemis's side, and now gazed and assessed her, finding a match for him was next to impossible- and yet.

"Good evening," started Artemis, his voice covering a neutral tone.

"Good day, Master Fowl. I am the Valkyrie." Val announced, rather dramatically.

"And I am the Butler, may I escort you and your attitude to the door?" chimed Butler.

"No, no need Butler," Artemis said, before this Valkyrie person could start something. The last thing he needed was a riot at his party.

A small smile of pride spread her face, it read cute, just cute. This was one step in the wrong direction, so Artemis stepped over that line and went another foot.

"If I may apologize for my-"

"Butler," she interrupted, "No need, you may call me Val, if you so wish."

"And who might you be?" Artemis directing the question to Carlos.

"Car-ls." Carlos squeaked from the back of his throat, stomach churning. Artemis was so much more . . . human then had been described; by his Mother as well as his Uncle. It had sounded like Artemis was some sort of Monster, old cracked skin and villainous cape, and maybe even a deformed head to accompany his large Intellect and ego, but no, he was completely human. It came hard, the words, in front of someone who was no longer someone great, but now also human. "Carlos." There it was, his name, now Artemis knew his name.

"Carlos, do you have a surname? Unlike, the a- Valkyrie, who has a title and needs no surname." Artemis questioned, wondering if he' would be truthful.

"Frezetti, Sir," there it was, Sir and honesty in the same sentence, Artemis could get used to this kid, only a year at most younger then himself.

"May we meet again, later tonight, both of you . . ." they nodded their acceptance and parted ways.


Was it satisfactory? Was it to little, was it not what you expected? This can only mean you will be jittery, on the edge of hysterics every moment of the week until that day when part two will be released in the US.

The premier of "Emi" is now on my site.

~ Kalen Bloodstone ~