- Minnesota, the middle of nowhere -

They had been into the diner a few times during that first week, though they somehow always managed to be at Liz's table, and she began to see something in Butler. "His grandfather had a farm around here," she gushed, "and he's brought his nephew for holidays. Isn't that quaint? He calls it holidays!"

Kip just smiled, though she wanted to say, "Grow up, Liz; in Britain they call them holidays." But she took her trays out in silence. More than once she caught him looking at her, though it was not a look she would have put with Mulch's descriptions. Sweet, she decided, described it best. No one had looked at her that way, ever; she got lustful looks from young truckers who thought they were all that, fatherly looks from older truckers, and withering looks from those in a greater hurry than she appeared to be. He was confusing, she decided, picking up empty plates and pocketing the tip.

Except, nine days after their arrival, they took a seat in her section. Mulch, of course, had told her never to associate with the "Mud Boy and his hit man," though she rarely took advice from a dwarf who, in fairy years, was really only about twenty or twenty-one himself. "What can I get you?" she asked, pad of paper at the ready. They ordered directly enough and she was about to get out for the night - they were her last customers - when, while picking up the table, Artemis came up behind her.

"Tanardawen."

Her breath caught in her throat. It was the fairy name on her birth certificate. She used it as her middle name, as it would make a rather noticeable last name, but no one knew that. "Betan sumoh, u mana?" she demanded. What do you want, and why?

"Mitl'r spishe." To talk with you.

It boggled her mind, really, that he spoke the ancient language. Then again, a few years back she had come across a copy of the Book, the fairy Bible, on the internet. He may have learned it from there - the words were natural n her tongue - or, wait . . . he was the one who succeeded in translating it in the first place, though he may not have put it online. "Ib'n con." You are.

"Sla', bei'm di." But I would rather we do this at your house, alone.

"Nid Butler?" No Butler?

"Vurd't di 'm sapken wid e?" Would you speak to me without him?

"Be d's inid f'er." More than with him. Though the "maybe" went unsaid. They were starting to attract stares of curious truckers who were coming in. "Come with me." She plucked at his sleeve and went outside the diner to where Butler was waiting by the car.

"We can drive you," Artemis offered, and he seemed a bit nervous somehow.

"I don't take rides from strangers." Kip glared at him. "Though you seem to know a great deal about me."

"I didn't know you'd understand the language," he said irritably, as she had started walking and left him no choice but to follow.

"I understand more than you think, Artemis Fowl. Not everyone is as dumb as you think they are."

He snorted. "Now you sound like Foaly."

Kip winced. She had heard a lot about Foaly from Mulch, and she was not exactly sure what kind of person - er, centaur - he was. "You want to take me down there so they can perform tests on me and conclude what I can simply tell you and send you on your way."

"And what's that?"

"Conclude it yourself, genius." She turned a corner, shoving her hands in her pockets.

"Wait, I think you've the wrong impression of me." He touched her shoulder, though she did not turn. "You still think I'm the kid I was, though how you know what sort of boy I was I'm not sure."

"You're trying to tell me you're not, then."

"No. No, Katherine, please - at least . . . listen to me. Please."

"Why?" She finally did turn to him, looking up at him with an unreadable expression on her face. "You intend to take me down there and let them do what they think needs to be done with me. I don't belong there, Artemis. If I'm lucky I'll live to see one hundred years go by, though I'll never be lucky enough to find someone who understands me."

"Katherine - "

But she was walking again, swiftly, and she did not stop until she reached the apartment, where Artemis finally caught up to her in the elevator. "You - you live here?" he asked, sounding slightly out of breath.

"Down the hall from you." Kip punched the second floor button savagely and leaned into the corner of the box, waiting for the doors to close and the ancient machinery to start working.

Artemis shook his head, amazed. "This wasn't the way any of this was expected to work out."

"What do you mean?" she asked wearily.

"You weren't supposed to know any of this. I mean, how many kids would conclude they're half-fairy, just because?"

"I had help." The doors opened and she immediately went down the hall to apartment 2B. "You translated the Book. I'm assuming someone else got a hold of your copy and posted it on the Internet."

"And you automatically assumed all this applied to you." He was skeptical, following her into the apartment and smirking as, when the door closed, he saw the sign taped on the back: ". . . or not 2B?" "That's original."

"What? Oh. It was here when I moved in." She plopped down on the couch.

Artemis sat on the opposite end, rather gracefully, she noted. "So what now?" he asked.

"You're asking me?" Kip laughed. "Dude, you're the genius, the enemy of the Lower Elements who's always one step ahead of the game. You tell me what."

"Well, I was supposed to tell you all this - that your father wanted to name you Tanardawen, that he's a sprite - "

"A sprite?"

"I thought you knew all this."

"I knew he was a fairy, not what brand. Go on."

"And, well - I'm supposed to take you down there so they can see what this . . . mix . . . of blood means to you."

"What it means to them, you mean." She sighed, settling deeper into the cushions. "I'm mortal. At least, not like them, I mean. Like I said, maybe I'll reach one hundred. Then again, so may many Mud Men in the long run."

"But you have their magic. You did the healing."

She smiled slightly at that. "Yes, I have the magic, and I have never planted an acorn. So what now, Mud Boy? I'd be in your debt if you simply contacted them and told them that I'll live my life out up here and never bother them, thank you very much."

"I can't let you go. I mean, they won't let me."

Hasty though the correction was, she noticed his ears were turning pink. It amused her; from all Mulch had said, the boy cared for nothing more than computers and money. Boy? Now she was sounding like Mulch. "Try it, at least."

"But - "

"I could use the Mesmer," she threatened.

"But I don't contact them. They contact me." Artemis frowned. Foaly should have contacted him already, once he realized Artemis was right next to her. In fact, it had been a few days since communication of any sort. But something else was nagging at the back of his mind, as well. "There's something you're not telling me. Something that made you believe the Book pertained to you."

"You mean besides the fact that I could read the original copy in the old tongue? But wait, you speak it as well." There was a bit of mockery around the edge of her voice.

"No, that's just the translator." Almost unconsciously he brushed back his hair, fingertips running over the cool crescent. "There's something else."

As if to confirm his suspicions, there was a crash that came from the kitchen. A quick glance at the girl assured Artemis his questions would be answered if he simply looked around the corner.

- Operations Booth -

It was empty. Completely empty. And whatever -or whoever - had emptied it had done a thorough job. No computers left, not even cords poking out of the walls. And it wasn't just the both, but all of the Lower Elements: nothing. Not a sprite, a pixie, a dwarf, a goblin, a LEPrecon - nothing. Well, the dwellings were still intact and with all their equipment. The only things of interest had been under Foaly's direct control, and those were gone.

Had there been a wind it would have whistles hollowly through the corridors and empty chutes, but there was no such thing. The Lower Elements looked like a ghost town. Except ghosts, as Mud Men suspected, did not really exsist.

- Minnesota, the middle of nowhere -

An extremely guilty looking Mulch had knocked a tray of cookies off the counter while climbing on it to get a glass out of the cupboard. He was sheepishly climbing down to pick them up when Artemis burst in, followed closely by Kip. His jaw dropped - as well as the cookie bits he had in his hands - as he registered what he saw. "Narda," he whimpered.

Kip rolled her eyes. "Look, you're both not exactly on the greatest terms with the LEP, so I'd think you'd be decent enough not to turn each other in."

"Narda?" Artemis echoed.

"Nickname of Tanardawen. Actually, the root of the name." Kip got down on her knees to continue picking up. "You should know what that means."

"Laughter, or sometimes . . . light?" After a moment Artemis knelt beside her. "It's a really pretty name, by the way."

Was it her imagination or were his ears turning pink again? "It's strange. It would attract too much attention if I used it."

"Artemis isn't exactly normal. But you chose Katherine."

"I chose Kip. Mother named me Katherine." Kip took the platter and set it back on the counter, retrieving a cup for Mulch and filling it with apple juice from the fridge before setting it on the counter. The dwarf climbed up on a chair and drank greedily. "This would be the reason I believed so readily."

"And the reason Root couldn't find any mention of her before," Mulch agreed, wiping his bread and holding the cup out for a refill. "Soon as I figured out who she was, I stole the record Chix had filed."

"To protect you?" Artemis leaned on the countertop.

"To protect his safe house," Kip corrected. "And I decided to let him stay a bit, so I could learn about my father's people, just to know what I might be able to do."

"And how much can you do?" He raised an eyebrow.

"All of it." Kip looked at the platter of broken cookies. "The floor's clean," she said, placing it in front of Mulch, who dived right in.

"You know each other really well," Artemis observed, snagging some for himself, which was totally out of character.

"I'd say he knows more about me than anyone else in the world," she agreed, opening the fridge again. "Milk?"

"Sure, thanks. These are good." He raised the chocolate chip cookie. "Even better than your mother? How well he knows you, I mean."

Mulch coughed on a few crumbs but quickly silence himself. Kip was giving Artemis a strange look. "My mother was dead before I was born. It was a car crash. They thought there would be a father or someone to come and claim me." She set the milk in front of him.

"But you said she named you Katherine."

"Yes. They told her she might have to deliver early, and she said 'My baby's name is Katherine Tanardawen.' She even wrote it down, to make sure they spelled it right."

Artemis cleared his throat. "Chix said he found her, after he found out about you, and put her under the Mesmer again, to tell her what name he wanted to give you."

She snorted. "Maybe there are some circumstances in which the Mesmer should be used, but not like that. It's rape, plain and simple."

Being a typical guy, Artemis wasn't sure he wanted to stray onto this topic. "But she, ah, did it willingly."

"Under the Mesmer. It's as if he slipped something in her drink." Kip shrugged. "It doesn't bother me, really. I mean, it can't; I've never known different."

Mulch was keeping quiet, but he wanted to point out the expression on the Mud Boy's face when he looked at her. It was something to note, definitely, though not when he was in the room.

Artemis cleared his throat after a moment. "You're . . . not what I expected."

Kip laughed slightly. "Neither are you." And, using that as a farewell, Artemis went out the door and down the hall to his own apartment.

Mulch raised an eyebrow. "He likes you."

"Mulch," she said warningly.

"He won't be able to get you out of his head," the dwarf predicted happily. "You're going to haunt his dreams."

Kip just glared at him, refilling his apple juice one last time before going off to bed. But the problem was, Artemis was all too present in her mind, as well, and it was a long time before she managed to drift off to sleep.