She had not realized until the expedition how much she disliked snow. And the cold. And the wet. She was a fan of tropical weather, at this point in her life. Though, she recalled as a child, being in love with the rain and the wondrous icy chill of her home country. But that was then, and now she preferred hotter climates. New York's winters might be bitter, but the summers were killers. Perfect, in her mind. Hot enough to suffocate a person, great ice cream-making weather. This, she remembered, was one of the benefits from moving away from cold, wet Ireland.

The walk was not a particularly pleasant one. With enduring silences, the sound of snow crunching beneath their boots was the only sound about. Sophie almost couldn't stand it. She was, by no means a loud sort of person. But this pure quiet allowed her to easily imagine slipping into insanity. Is that what had happened to her sister? Had Sasha been alone in the silence too long, without even a cat to keep her company? Sophie shoved these thoughts away, resurfacing to the present. The idea that her sister's demise was more than a little of her fault had kept her awake for more than a hundred nights. No matter what way she bent the situations, recalled the words, or relived the moments, it would always, always, be her contributions that impacted the event the most. She had allowed the silly girl to convince her on this little "mission", she had participated fully.

"We—" She looked up. Artemis's hoarse voice was somewhat still melodic and elegant even its rough state. He had stopped, looking at the scenery. Deep blue eyes scanned the mountains till they alighted upon two particular landforms.

"Yes?"

He coughed. "I believe we're almost there."

Sophie felt the rush of excitement in her chest. The familiar rush of the finale, the prestige of the kill filled her once again. "How do you know?" She demanded.

Artemis half-turned to glance his captive, pointing ahead toward the crisp white snow. "Do you see the dip?"

She narrowed her eyes, trying to make something out of the waves of white. A shadow of the lightest gray, the curve on what had been flat landscape…Sophie let out an excited gasp.

"A path!"

Artemis smiled broadly. "Convenient."

"Very. Almost too convenient. And a little obvious, wouldn't you say? I mean, Artemis, wouldn't a path to El Dorado be kind of hard to miss? Someone must have followed it at some point."

"They may have." Artemis agreed. "But I would highly doubt few, if any, would return. At least if they did, they wouldn't have much to say about it."

"'Not much to say' about the city of gold?" Sophia asked skeptically.

He smirked now. "Allow me to rephrase that. 'They wouldn't to be able to say much.'"

Sophie raised a brow. "As in, this path does not lead to the mythical city?"

The smirked deepen. "I did not say that. I merely implied that they perhaps would be in no state to communicate their experiences."

"But the path doesn't go to the city?"

"It does not." Artemis granted, giving a slow nod. In answer to her upcoming question: "The path leads to Blanco Diablo Morte. "

"White Devil's Death?" A little contradictory. Paradoxical. Just Artemis's style.

"An enterprising native created this path as a form of insurance. Once word about the city emerged in European circles, the protectors knew it was only a matter of time before they were plundered and their once chance of revival disappeared. So they decided to send their opponents on a goose chase through the mountains."

Artemis had fully launched into his lecture with a zeal reserved only for such moments. Sophie couldn't help but grin in response to his palpable passion over the subject. Other people's trickery brought him such joy.

"I am sure you have heard various tale of El Dorado's location. You, I believe, had the notion that it was near the Amazon, a tropical rainforest setting. Some suppose the city is a desert plain, hidden in a remote canyon. These possible sites for the city all originated from one source."

"The Incas."

"Indeed. The legend was already out into the ears of the Europeans, there was little they could do to stop the story. The next option was to manipulate the legend, to send any seekers on the wrong path, the cursed trail." He was excited, and it was contagious. "Maps, ancient and authentic were created revealing to location, and distributed. Stories were passed along. This path is just an example of one last attempt."

"So…" Sophie drifted off, looking at him expectantly.

Artemis restrained himself from rolling his eyes. "We do not take the path."

"Duh," Sophia did not restrain the automatic reaction, proceeding to roll her weary eyes heavily. " But where do we go from here?"

At this, the young man grinned, almost devilishly. "We go down."

Sophie turned slowly to face the downward slope behind her. It was steep, rocky, and appeared to be exceedingly difficult no matter what direction one attempted the journey. Her groan echoed for more than a few miles.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ella Iver wasn't sure what to make of the large manservant. He certainly wasn't a dunce. He wasn't exactly a genius, but he was no idiot. His job was his priority, and clearly something he took pride in. This much was obvious as he dragged her back to her quarters at 4 a.m. He was silent until shoving her into her room, grunting "Now, stay put until morning, Miss Iver. I'm in no mood to go all over the property for you again."

Ella was feeling a little defeated. Yet she certainly wasn't giving up. Still, Ella believed one only ought to try one escape per day per security guard. So she waited for Butler to shut the door before she entered the bathroom to prepare herself for bed for the second time that evening. While she slipped into a new pair of pajamas, Ella ran over the attempted liberation in her mind. The brief moment of freedom was sweet, Ella recalled, though all too brief.

Though she admitted that after she made it past the gates, the wall, the forest, and the drive, she had no clue where to go on, she was still willing to persevere to make it out in one piece. She had little to no clue where in Dublin she was, no access to maps, and (much like her mother) nearly no sense of direction. Sophie had never spoken of the city, never mentioned any relations or friends that lived there, so Ella had no connections to Dublin. To leave was a risk—she possessed nearly no cash (and what she did have was in American bills), could not navigate, and did not know where her mother was.

To stay…there was, as far as she could see, no danger. Ella was being treated well. Considerately cared for and monitored in a nearly non-evasive way. The single concerning event had been the gathering of her DNA sample. If Sophie knew, she would be livid. But that was not Ella's problem. She suspected the motive behind the gathering of the sample, theories that had no menace behind them.

Sighing, Ella considered stopping her escape escapades. The consequences could be worse than she predicted. With Butler's diligence, busting out was near impossible. For all she knew, her mother could be headed here right now. What if Ella escaped, just to become lost in an unfamiliar city, anyways?

As much as she regretted it, staying would be the best thing at this point. Ella nodded to herself as she climbed into bed. It was settled. She would remain at Fowl manner, for the time being. Maybe after she found a map and some cash, she could entertain the idea of leaving. In the mean time Ella might possibly research her mother's relationship with a certain billionaire. Where better a place to dig up a little info on Fowl's past?

And that reminded her. " Ab incunabulis pinxit primus inter pares. Adsum." The phrase was something a father would script upon his daughter's walls. Walls to a room that had been carefully designed for Ella. What was Fowl to her? A father? Or, perhaps, an old family friend?

Ella suddenly stood to cross to her dresser. Pushing aside the layers of socks that resided in the bottom drawer, the girl uncovered a worn, faded photo. A pair of people held each other, looking into the camera with great humor. Their smiles were equally wide. The couple was outside, hands together as if they were dancing. Ella gazed at the faces. Artemis was handsome, vibrant. She traced his aristocratic features with one finger. Her father….father. She'd never had one of those. Sophie had worked to fill both roles, but she failed in a few areas.

If Artemis was her father, why wasn't he with her mother? Why had she grown up without him?

XXXXXXXXX

"We should be near."

"Oh great! Just like we were three hours ago?"

"Please, darling, that was perhaps thirty minutes ago. Your ability to sustain memory is decreasing at an alarming rate."

"Well, sweetheart, your presence typically does that to me. "

"I knew I made you breathless, but forgetful as well? Whatever would happen if I tried to seduce you?"

"Honestly?" Sophie grinned. "I think any attempt of your attempts toward seducing would cause me to drift off." She sniggered from beneath her gloves.

"Really, Sophie." Artemis chided. "I managed to do it once."

"When I let you for my own monetary gain!"

Artemis sniffed. "Details."

At that they both laughed.

"But seriously, how close?

He rolled his eyes up to the sky, musing. Considering. "I would say a half hour. No more." The ice-chip eyes returned to her flushed face. "Is that soon enough for you?"

"I suppose."

"Good."

They were in the ravine. Cold stone surrounded them. Sophie had underestimated how dark the bottom would be—it was twilight. They'd finally reached the floor after several hours of scaling the downward slope. With no major incident, the trip had been a relatively peaceful one, even with their combined difficultly of the navigation in the treacherous landscape. However, both were in a pleasant mood. Playful banter filled their conversation. Things were being to look up for their relationship. Sophie still wasn't sure what they were going to work out once they returned to Dublin. But she didn't bring it up.

"There."

"Wha-?" Sophie strained her neck whipping her head around. The only thing she saw was a pile of snow-covered rocks, blocking the rest of the ravine. No golden gate, no bridge. Just some unremarkable rocks. Ugly rocks, at that. Fowl Manor had lovelier stones marking their path ways.

"Okay," Sophie said slowly. "We might need to take a break, you're losing it on me."

Impatient, Artemis walked forward, hands clenched in fists. His breath was a little labored. "This is it. I know it. You've got to look harder, Sophie."

She squinted. Nothing changed, expect her eyes hurt. "Really Artemis. They're just rocks."

Artemis was less than two meters from the stones. "How do you know?"

"I have decent vision and evaluation skills. They look like rocks. They're rocks."

He grinned. "How about a wager, then? If they're rocks, I'll cook you dinner. If they're not…I commission a piece from you, half price."

"You cook for me? I'm sorry, is that suppose to be some sort of reward?"

"Fine, I'll take you out to dinner."

"Yes, you will undoubtedly—" Then Sophie shut up, for Artemis had touched the rocks. Or, rather, he'd put his hands forward to touch the rough gray things, only for his hands to go straight through the projected images.

"I want a mural." He informed a stunned redhead. "Probably in the Fowl Star Enterprises building in London. Shall we?"

"Yeah," Sophie murmured. "Why not?"

With that, Artemis stepped through the projection. Sophie followed, a little sore over her loss. But the chamber she came face-to-face with soon allowed her to forget her lost bet.

XXXXXX

Artemis couldn't control himself. His excitement soared has he moved through the holographic rocks. Completely fairy. As he waited for his companion, his hands skimmed over the light particles making up the "rocks". It was nearly convincing. Without his keen knowledge of fairy technology, he doubted he would have noticed the entrance unless he stumbled into it.

He silently thanked the rebel group of fairies who had run rouge in the time of exploration. Their influence over the Mayans, Aztecs, and Incans had very nearly saved the tribes. When they had failed, they deposited significant amounts of gold, pieces of art, and tools that were symbols of the cultures of their chosen people. Worth millions upon millions today.

When reflecting some more, at a later time, Artemis remembered he had Holly to thank. If she had not mentioned the fairies' and their involvement in the mythical El Dorado, his interest would have never been sparked to go searching for the legend.

" The Nameless Ones." Holly had whispered. "Shamed beyond all others for their love of Mud Men."

"What about you?" Artemis pointed out. "Nobody seems to mind your visits up here."

Holly sat back, nodding. "Well, these are modern times. These days, they figure association with you could only be good. You know, you're environmental rehab campaign really changed their minds about you."

"But the Nameless Ones?"

"They thought if the Mud—oh, alright, humans—we taught to respect the Earth, that maybe we could co-exist. So they started where the humans had already began to worship nature."

"The Americas." Artemis said softly.

"Yeah. Bad timing, with European exploration—Mud Men taking what wasn't theirs, yet again."

Artemis gave a wry smile. Holly continued. "They did manage to teach the humans something—astronomy, higher mathematics, organic agriculture that gave back to the Earth. They began to thrive..."

"Until the Europeans arrived on American soil."

"Exactly. Well, the Nameless went back underground for a while, to urge for fairy help. A few gnomes listened, and they got a number of pixies on board. Then they went back." Holly shuddered. " You know how time passes for us—with our life spans extended above yours, twenty years feels like a month. It was too late. All the natives had been killed, either by disease or European weaponry."

"What did the Nameless do?"

"They searched for survivors. And there were a few—religious figures, mostly, some women and children. They relocated them to live with assimilated natives, then worked to preserve the culture."

"How?"

"In a sort of…city I guess. Like your El Dorado. I suppose it's where your myths of a city of gold come from."

"What happened to the Nameless Ones?"

Holly's eyes were hard. "A few remained above ground, and tried to start a fairy colony. Eventually the pollution got to them. A number returned below ground. They were tried and sentenced to psych institutions. Several…escaped through unnecessary means."

"How?"

"They were rolled out in body bags, Artemis."

Lord, that took forever. This is a very short chapter, I know. But it's all I've got in me for now. Classes have recently ended, so updates should be more frequent. My goal is to complete this in another 4-6 chapters. This is, thank goodness, the final chapter before the climax. Look for the next one in roughly two weeks. Ciao.

~Dania