A/N: Yeah, this chapter was a little late. I kinda disappeared from everything the last two weeks because the first week I was in Grass Valley, California for the Father's Day Bluegrass Festival!!! It was so much frickin' fun!!! Pretty much everybody at the festival was a musician and people would be jamming all night until about five in the morning. In was in a forest like place and there was this one part that was, like, a city of RV's (I was in a tent though) and under just about every fourth RV there was a group of people in lawn chairs jamming to some bluegrass standards like "Little Maggie" and "Old Joe Clark" and "Salty Dog" and stuff like that. Me and my dad weren't quite good enough on our instruments to participate in those (he's learning the banjo and I'm learning mandolin) so we just played in the slow jam, at which we were probably in the middle. Anyway, enough talk. Let's get on with the chapter.

"Sacheverell Leonidas Swindlehurst VI. Son of Sacheverell L. Swindlehurst V and Madam Marriane St. Frond, grandson of Sir Sacheverell L. Swindlehurst IV and Lady Sandrine-Amarylis (that's Saun-dreen) Eloise de Periwinkle, great-grandson of Sacheverell L. Swindlehurst III and Rose-Anne Bougainvillea. Pleased to meet your acquaintance."

The newcomer, Sacheverell Leonidas Swindlehurst VI, was about two feet three inches tall with neatly combed blond hair and bright blue eyes that twinkled as he held out his hand.

Phlox, lying on his bunk, merely shrugged. Gentian went back to examining his arm muscles. Narcissus arranged his hair in the mirror. Mullein turned back to his Pretty Pixies magazine. Jadon just turned over.

Sacheverell Leonidas Swindlehurst VI's smile was as bright as one of Foaly's computer generated crescent moons, and about as big too. "But you can just call me Sacheverell. 'Sir' would work as well."

Nobody moved.

Sacheverell sighed. "Since I know you all come from primitive backgrounds, I'll be kind. Remember: when someone holds out their hand to you like this, you hold it with your right hand and shake up and down briefly." He held up his finger like a teacher teaching a class of particularly dull children. "It's an important lesson that will last you the rest of your lives."

Gentian groaned as he sat up on his bunk and stood up, stretching his back and loosening his arms. "You know what?" he said. "I'm getting tired of this midget. Come here so I can pound your face in."

The little pixie ignored him. Instead he smiled and clapped his hands together once. "While I'm going to be staying in here with all of you until the great Miss Koboi says otherwise, we might as well get to know each other! You, sir," he pointed at Jadon, "what is your name?"

Jadon looked at him in a puzzled fashion. "Well, uh...Jadon," he said. He was about to turn back over and block this annoying little maggot from his brain but Sacheverell looked at him expectantly. "Um...Katz. Jadon Katz."

When he did not continue, Sacheverell gestured in a way that suggested there must be more to it. "Family line?" he said.

Family. That dreaded word. The moment it came out of Sacheverell's mouth, it dug up memories that had been buried deep in his subconscious. A white hospital room, the smell of disinfectants...his mother, her face stained with tears and hair a mess from days without sleep. And then his father...Jadon used to like to believe he was some place better, watching him. But he had given up those fantasies a decade ago. The only thing that reminded him of why he was doing what he was doing, was the blind hatred for Artemis Fowl II, and his unconditional loyalty to Amber Koboi.

"Don't ask him about that," Narcissus said. "He's sensitive. I'm Narcissus Mignonette, though. Son of no one."

Sacheverell looked at him strangely. "How is that?"

"Because of Artemis Fowl, my parents disowned me. You see, I had a terrible habit of shoplifting to get what I wanted because no one would suspect be, I'm so beautiful." Everybody else groaned. "But because of the threat of Fowl, security all around Haven was increased and I was caught. My parents disowned me and I was to spend a decade in prison―not much of a sentence, but hey, I was just shoplifting―but I met Gentian there and he got me hooked up with the Followers."

"Yeah," Mullein said, "Gentian was the first of all of us to be part of the Followers. I'm Mullein, by the way."

"Why did you join the Followers, Lacomb?" Narcissus said.

"I told you already," Mullein said. "Artemis Fowl took down my favorite porn site."

"Yeah, you told us that," Phlox said, cleaning his hoof with a hoof pick. "You also told us it's because you wanted to screw around with the Fowl girl. What's the real reason?"

"Those probably are the real reasons," Gentian said, "the perverted bastard. If Fowl the second becomes a grandfather, I wouldn't be surprised if it was Lacomb that did the fu―"

"I'm Phlox Ban-ei," Phlox said, interrupting Gentian quickly. "I joined the Followers because Fowl is a nosy asshole. That's all."

Sacheverell looked at Gentian. "How about you? I gather your name is Gentian."

Gentian chewed absentmindedly at his fingernail.

Narcissus sighed. "His name is Gentian Larkspur. Like Katz over there, he doesn't talk much about why or how he found the Followers. I don't understand why..."

"You just can't stop talking about yourself," Gentian said. "I'm quiet in contrast."

Jadon realized Sacheverell's smile had lasted through the entire conversation. "Now that we're all friends," Sacheverell said, "we can all―"

"Go stuff yourself, rich boy," Gentian said. "I don't know what Miss Koboi was thinking. She should have put you in the women's wing."

Smile having faded, Sacheverell dropped his bag on the bunk above Jadon's. Jadon felt himself feeling a little sorry for Sacheverell. He was younger than everybody else in the room―couldn't be any more than seventy―and obviously came from a wealthy family. It was a big change from that to a compact room filled with five other males from working class families.

There was that word again. It had popped up before Jadon could stop it.

"Dad..." Jadon whispered to himself.

It was sunny and warm on the outskirts of Dublin. Jadon, Gentian, and Sacheverell sat in a tree across the road from Fowl Manor's gates. On the screen in Gentian's hands, they watched Artemis Fowl II sit at his desk before his sleek €1207.64 computer. He looked so confident, like he was sure what he was doing was the right, humane thing to do.

"I hate him," Gentian said, knuckles turning white from gripping the screen. "Damned bastard. I want to rip his guts out."

"Rest assured the feeling is probably mutual," Sacheverell said, "considering how much he's done to us."

"Be quiet. No one asked for your opinion."

Jadon just nodded, but his grip on the rough branch tightened. He wanted to look away from the screen, away from the man who was to blame for all of his problems. But his eyes were glued. His jaw clenched, his nails drew scratch marks on the branch, but he could not look away. Everything but the screen did not exist anymore.

Someone else came into the room. It was a blond woman who appeared to be about Fowl's age. She put her hands on Fowl's shoulders. Must be his wife.

"You're working too hard, dear," Mrs. Fowl said. "You should relax. I'm sure the world will be alright for a few moments."

Fowl didn't smile, but he nodded and said, "I suppose you are right."

A boy who was outside the camera's view said, "Artemis will be home from school soon."

Mrs. Fowl linked her arm though her husband's. "You should spend some time with her. Be a father." She led him to the door, stopping only to say, "Come on, Ira."

The blond woman's last words to her husband shook Jadon from his daze. A father. He knew—had known—that Fowl had a daughter, but never thought of him as being a father.

"Dad..."

"What was that?" Sacheverell said.

Gentian snorted. "Talking about his old man again. All he ever does. Can't see why. My old man never did anything positive for me."

"If not for him though," Sacheverell said, "you wouldn't be alive."

"Yeah?" Gentian said. "Your point?"

The branch seemed to wobble under Jadon. Perhaps it was all the thoughts crowding his head.

"Dad..."

Gentian turned away from the screen. "Just shut up about your dad, okay? We get the idea. You miss your dad. We don't need to hear it anymore, d'arvit."

Jadon was brought back to reality all the way. "It's not your problem, Larkspur. You wouldn't know. You never had a father."

"Didn't need one," Gentian said. "I turned out fine. Look at you. You're a depressed daddy's boy who talks to himself."

Jadon didn't say anything. The steam built up inside his brain.

"You know what I think? I think you're just upset because your mom died after your dad instead of staying with you. You're just mad she didn't love you as much."

Jadon had thought of that option, but had dismissed it as impossible. Hearing it from somebody else's mouth brought the though back like a teenager to his or her childhood toy.

"Hey, guys," Sacheverell said. Gentian and Jadon turned back to him. Sacheverell held his radio in his hands. "Something is happening over by the Fowl girl's school. Says we're to go over there ASAP."

Jadon glared one last time at Gentian, who powered up his wings. The three of them lifted off and soared into the sky.

A/N: You all know the drill: if you liked it, review. If not...review anyway to tell me what I need to fix. That would make EVERYBODY happy!!

-Cookies