The first thing Domovoi Butler did upon regaining consciousness was to put his fists up in the way that Madam Ko had taught him to. The second thing he did was to think of Holly. He was certain that she'd had something to do with this; the last thing he remembered was being shot in the heart. He really ought to call her or send a card or something. Gosh, he thought, that might be a little awkward. How long had it been since they'd spoken? He composed a letter in his head. "Thank you, my forsaken love, for once again saving my sorry arse. It was very nice of you." It didn't sound right, for some reason.

Then he heard the voice. "I'm sorry, Butler." Artemis! Butler immediately felt guilty. Artemis really ought to have been the first thing on his mind. Why were his bodyguarding skills in the toilet? First he tells the Principal his first name, then the Principal escapes his mind entirely. He wondered if he could get Holly to perform a mind-wipe to fix his little lapse. Best not to ask. He owed her too much already.

"Butler?"

He snapped to.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry. Foaly said it had never been tried, and it was risky, but I thought--"

"I feel fine. What's to be sorry about?"

Artemis winced. "Go look in a mirror."

Oh, no.

(Author's Note: Yet another literary device that I don't know how to use. Oy, ff.net, if you can hear me: a how-to section would be helpful. What acronyms mean, protocol for doing these things, like right now, Butler is suddenly going to be by himself, looking in the mirror, okay? Yeah, he gets up, he goes elsewhere, blah blah blah. HELP!)

Butler poked the flaccid skin clinging to his jaw. The best years of my life, he moaned inwardly. How had he gotten so old? He would have to be sure and ask Foaly for the specifics sometime.

He turned and flexed. Was it his imagination, or did fewer veins pop out than used to? He had best start spending more time in the weight room if he wanted to maintain his dignity as a bodyguard.

In his new condition, would Artemis still want to be guarded by him? What would he do, if the young Fowl didn't? He knew, of course. He would marry Holly.

Speak of the devil.