Disclaimer: Nada.
A/N: Have decided that it takes place after the second book but before the third. You'll see why.
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Root wearily unlocked his front door and hung his wings on their hook. Today had not been good. Nothing else had come up so he had basically sat around all day eating Foaly's carrots and thinking. He had thought of a lot of people it *couldn't* be, but none that it could. At least on Monday he would be on his usual shift and not have to worry about when to leave. When he was on his usual shift, he left at exactly eight. Today he had left at six, mainly because he couldn't stand sitting around at work not doing anything.
Root sniffed the air suspiciously. Something smelled good. "Holly?" he called out.
"I'm in the kitchen!" he heard her reply. Curious, Root walked to his kitchen and almost stopped in his tracks. "How're we supposed to eat all this?" he asked.
Holly turned around, blushing slightly. "Leftovers," she replied.
Root shook his head, smiling slightly. "If you're going to do this every night, I might have to keep you around."
Holly laughed. "Just when I'm bored and don't have anything better to do. And I'm warning you: I can't remember the last time I've done anything this extravagant, so it could possibly taste horrible. Are there any leads on the terrorist?"
Root momentarily thought about lying, but then said, "Kind of. At least one of them works in the LEP and knows you well."
Holly's eyes widened. "Why?" she asked.
"The handwriting on that note was yours," Root answered. At Holly's look, he hurriedly added, "But it's not yours. I mean, you didn't do it."
"Obviously," Holly snapped and set the bowl of sauce on the counter. She poured it into a streaming pot of spaghetti and started mixing it. She stopped. "Are you sure there aren't any other clues?"
"Only that whoever is in the LEP might be hired by somebody else, so if you can think of anybody that stupid, I suppose it could be helpful," Root replied, sitting down at the kitchen table.
Holly snorted. "Easy. Frond."
Root sighed. "I already thought of her. She doesn't have a motive. Why would she want to keep women out of Recon when I know for a fact she wants to come up?"
"To get me out so she could go in?" Holly suggested, although she knew the argument wasn't very strong.
"You're being promoted to Lieutenant soon so another woman is coming into Recon as a Captain anyways," Root reasoned. "She knows it's probably going to be her."
"Well maybe she wants to be the first Lieutenant or maybe she has a grudge against me . . . which I know she does," Holly replied.
"I guess . . ." Root trailed off. He sighed again. "She's just not smart enough."
"But if she was bought, she could've easily swiped a sample of my handwriting and dropped off the note," Holly argued.
"But there isn't any evidence against her," Root replied.
"Fingerprints?" Holly suggested. "On the note?"
"Only ours," Root answered.
Holly turned back to the spaghetti and stabbed it angrily with the large wooden fork she had been using to stir it with. "This . . . is . . . not . . . fair," she said angrily, punctuating each word with a stab at the spaghetti.
"Life isn't," Root replied and went over to Holly, gently removing the fork from her grasp. "If you break it into a thousand pieces, it will be practically impossible to eat," he said and put the fork in the sink. He took out two plates, loaded them with the spaghetti and salad that Holly had made and brought them to the kitchen table where Holly was sitting with her head in her hands. Root said the plates down, quickly squeezed Holly's shoulder comfortingly and sat down across from her. "We'll get them, Holly," Root assured her. "I promise, whoever it is, we'll get them and throw them into Howler's Peak for life."
Holly looked up, wiping the stray tears that had leaked from her eyes. "But what about until then?" she asked, her voice coming out high and scared. "For all you know, you're house could be wired and explode sometime this morning." Holly seemed to suddenly realize this. She stood up, saying, "I can't stay here. I can't endanger you."
"Holly, wait," Root called after her retreating form, following her out of the kitchen and to the basement where she was pulling her clothes out of the dresser. "Holly, look at me," Root told her. When she didn't turn around, he went over to her and gently put his hands on her shoulders, turning her so she was facing him. "I can't let you leave. You don't have anywhere else to go."
"And I can't stay here," she replied, shaking free of Root's grip. "I can't endanger you like this. If I die, I'm replaceable. You're the Commander. You know the LEP can't function properly without you. You *can't* die." With that, Holly went upstairs and left, ignoring Root's protests.
*
Once outside, Holly looked around, not knowing where to go. She definitely couldn't stay here, and she definitely couldn't go to Foaly's. In fact, if she didn't want to endanger anyone else, she couldn't go anywhere. Pulling the buttoned shirt close around her, she began walking towards the park that was a few blocks away, praying Root wouldn't come after her.
Once she was there, she found a secluded corner with one of the few trees that had managed to grow below ground and settled against it, knowing that she wouldn't sleep at all that day. She ignored the tears running down her cheeks and instead listened to the steady beat of the traffic, traffic that didn't let up even in the middle of the day.
*
Root sat down on the bed amidst the clothes that Holly had already pulled out and thought about what he should do. Eventually he got up and called all the motels in the area, asking if Holly had been there and telling them to call him if she came. That completed, he went back upstairs and poked the dinner she had made, not eating it.
*
The next day Holly sighed into work, still wearing the filthy buttoned shirt and cargo pants that she had worn the previous night. The first thing she did was go to Root's office and knock on his door.
"Come in," he called out.
Holly walked into his office and sat down at the chair, toying with the buttons as she did so.
"Holly! Where were you?" Root asked.
In a tone of defeat, she said flatly, "I think it would be better if I didn't come into work until the terrorists are caught."
Root stared at her in amazement. Was she really saying this? "Holly, you can't give up. I know that you don't want anyone else to get hurt, but we need you here. Maybe you can think of someone or something that might-"
Holly shook her head. "No," she interrupted in the same flat voice, the one that almost scared Root. "I can't do that to the LEP."
"Then I order you to stay," Root snapped, trying to put on his usual air command instead of comforting her.
"Then I'll disobey your order," Holly replied and started to get up.
"You realize that if you choose to ignore me, you'll lose your chance at a promotion and could possibly lose your job?" he threatened.
"Fine. I can't endanger all of these people. I just can't," she replied and walked out, leaving Root staring after her in amazement. The thought "This can't be happening, this can't be happening" kept running through his head, immobilizing him, preventing him from stopping her.
*
Holly wandered around Haven City at random, trying to figure out where to go. Where could she possibly go where no one would find her? Haven City was big, yes, but that meant there were lost of fairies and not a lot of hiding places.
"Then leave Haven," the voice told her.
"No. That's stupid. Now I'm just panicking," Holly told herself. But the idea did seem rather welcome.
"It's only until the terrorist is caught," the voice urged her. "If you go to Atlantis, you can stay with Yonah and you can still get the news paper so you'll know when the terrorist is caught."
"No . . . Stop. I'm panicking," Holly told herself nervously. She didn't panic. She was, after all, famous for keeping a cool head in difficult situations.
"Or how about above ground?" the voice asked. "You can go to Disneyland Paris, or just stay the woods."
"Definitely panicking," Holly repeated. "I can't go above ground. That's just stupid."
"Really?" the voice teased. "You can get away from everyone, replenish your magic and come back later. Think of it as a vacation."
Hmm . . . it was high time she did the Ritual. In fact, if Root knew how low she was, he'd force her to go above ground. So if she got in trouble . . . "Alright. Fine. But only for one night," she promised herself and started to make her way back to headquarters.
"Oh, no. You can't go *that* way," the voice told her. "If you go *that* way, they'll know where you're going."
"No. The Upper Elements are huge. They couldn't find me," Holly insisted instantly.
"Yes they could," the voice told her. "They could find you and kill you and- "
"Well what do you suggest I do?" Holly snapped, not wanting to hear anymore.
"Well, you of all fairies should know the *other* routs to get up," the voice said eagerly. "You've spent enough time policing them."
"No. I am *not* breaking the law," Holly yelled at the voice in her head.
"Yes, you are," the voice insisted and pushed her towards the nearest illegal way to the surface. "It's only one time."
"I am NOT doing this!" Holly yelled in her head, but found herself walking anyways.
"It's easier once you start walking, Holly," the voice said.
She couldn't argue that. Once she was walking, it *did* seem very easy to just keep on going. Pushing the thoughts of what she was doing to the back of her head, she jogged to the nearest way up.
When she caught sight of the entrance in the deserted tunnel she was in now, she started to think about what she was doing again. Was she really going to take an illegal flare up to the surface because of terrorists? Was she really running away?
"Just for a while," the voice said and pushed her doubts to the back of her head.
Taking a deep breath, Holly stepped out of the shadows and walked over to the elf that was guarding the entrance. His eyes narrow on seeing her.
"What do you want?" he asked gruffly.
"To go up," Holly said simply. "Ireland."
The elf looked at a list and then back at Holly. "Name?"
"Regan Branch," she said instantly, the voice in her head supplying the name.
"ID?" he asked.
Holly froze. "Don't have any," she said. "Running away. Already ditched it."
The elf grinned at her, a cold smile that didn't reach his eyes and almost made Holly shiver. "Then you'll fit right in. Can you fly a pod?"
"Of course," Holly snapped.
"That'll be thirty bucks," he said, holding out a grimy hand.
"Oh, shit," Holly thought. "Where am I going to get that?"
The elf grinned nastily at her, knowing what she was thinking. "Don't have it, do you?"
"Like I said, I'm running away," Holly replied.
The elf seemed to consider this for a bit. "I suppose I can make an exception, but I'm warning you: don't try this again," he snapped. "Go in. You'll see what to do."
Taking a deep breath, Holly stepped into the dark chamber behind the elf. She let her eyes adjust to the light before going on.
"How may I help you?" a slimy voice said from Holly's right.
She jumped and turned to the source of the voice. A sprite this time, his green skin glowing eerily in the dim light. "I-Ireland," she stammered. "And a pair of wings."
The sprite smiled evilly at her, revealing half rotted teeth.
"What am I doing?" she thought suddenly and considered running back to headquarters, apologizing to Root and going back to work.
"Oh no you don't," the voice said.
"The wings'll be an extra twenty," he sneered.
"See? I have to go back," she told herself.
"He's a sprite, Holly," the ever-present voice said. "A *sprite*."
Holly inwardly flinched as she realized what she had to do, but resigned herself to the task. She gave the sprite her most pathetic and needy look as she said, "I'm afraid I'm a little light. Could you possibly help me?"
"It's working," the voice said at the sprite's look. "No sprite could possibly resist helping a beautiful elf."
"Well . . ." he trailed off.
Holly sighed dejectedly and gave him a puppy dog look, inwardly hating herself for it. "It's just this once . . ."
The sprite couldn't help but smile to himself. How could he possibly resist her? "I suppose just this once . . ." he said, leading her over to a rack of wings. He unhooked an ancient pair of Dragonflies, Holly's least favourite model, not that she could complain. "I expect these back in top condition," he warned and walked over to a pod. "This is your pod. Equipped with all the modern technology."
Holly grimaced. Modern technology from maybe fifty years ago. But, again, she couldn't complain. She went in and strapped herself into the seat. "When's the next flare coming?" she asked.
"Just about now," the sprite said and Holly felt the pod begin to move forwards. It rocked and pitched against the tunnel floor and Holly yet again wondered what she had gotten herself into. The point of this trip wasn't to die. She took a deep breath and let her natural instincts take over. The huge column was looming in front of her, getting closer by the second. Holly closed her eyes for a fraction of a second as she felt the pod tip over the edge and spin down into the abyss.
"Oh, god, I'm going to die," she thought to herself, looking at the monitor.
"No you're not. Don't panic. You can feel the flare coming," the voice inside her head said quickly, willing her not to loose her head.
It was true. She could feel the flare. In seconds, it had engulfed her and she was riding probably the biggest flare she had ever felt to the surface. When it eventually tapered out, Holly was only about fifty feet away from the landing dock and easily coasted to it. She sent the grippers out at exactly the right moment, securing herself to the dock. She released the harness holding her into the pod and stepped out, breathing the clean surface air. Well, cleaner than the stale air down in the tunnels. The humans had poisoned it so much-
"Stop thinking negatively," the voice in her head demanded as Holly walked out of the tunnels holding the Dragonflies safe against her and into the surface. "Relax. You're on vacation."
"Vacation . . . yeah, sure. Why not?" Holly thought to herself as she randomly wandered around.
"Hey . . . wait a second," the voice in her head said. "Doesn't that look familiar?"
Holly looked at the wall again. She had been about to turn away form it as the last thing she needed was to come into contact with humans. But it did look familiar. Too familiar . . .
"Oh, shit," she said out loud, realizing where she was. "Why the *hell* is there a tunnel this close to here?"
"It's illegal, remember? The LEP thought they shut it down years ago . . ." the voice whispered nastily. "So, what are you going to do about being so close to here? You know you could easily fly over the top and go wring his neck."
"Not a chance," she snapped, convincing even the voice.
"Then why not go talk to him? See how he's doing?" the voice pestered.
"No," Holly repeated. "I'm not going there ever again."
"Why not go talk to him? You need someone to talk to," the voice suggested.
"I AM *NOT* GOING TO GO ASK ARTEMIS FOWL FOR HELP!" Holly yelled aloud and then realized her mistake. "Shit," she whispered, strapped on the wings and flew to the nearest tree a second before a guard came out to see what had happened. When he didn't see anything, he went back to his post approximately ten feet away.
"Shit," Holly mumbled again, looking at the sky. Apparently everything had taken longer than she had thought. There were the faintest traces of light peeking over the horizon.
"Come on," the voice urged. "You can't stay out here during the day. You can go to Fowl, spend the day there and leave. Do the Ritual and go back down. Nobody will think the lesser of you because nobody will *know*."
"*I'll* know," Holly insisted.
There was more light now, coming faster and faster.
"You need to survive!" the voice yelled. "Do you want to die?"
"No . . . I don't," Holly whispered out loud. That was how she found herself knocking on the front door of Fowl Manor, praying that somebody was home.
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Hmmm . . . I really hope that wasn't too out of character on Holly's part. I know it might be, but it's interesting, don't you think? Besides, you never know what people, or fairies in this case, might do under huge amounts of stress. Wouldn't *you* want to run if there were a group of terrorists after you?
A/N: Have decided that it takes place after the second book but before the third. You'll see why.
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Root wearily unlocked his front door and hung his wings on their hook. Today had not been good. Nothing else had come up so he had basically sat around all day eating Foaly's carrots and thinking. He had thought of a lot of people it *couldn't* be, but none that it could. At least on Monday he would be on his usual shift and not have to worry about when to leave. When he was on his usual shift, he left at exactly eight. Today he had left at six, mainly because he couldn't stand sitting around at work not doing anything.
Root sniffed the air suspiciously. Something smelled good. "Holly?" he called out.
"I'm in the kitchen!" he heard her reply. Curious, Root walked to his kitchen and almost stopped in his tracks. "How're we supposed to eat all this?" he asked.
Holly turned around, blushing slightly. "Leftovers," she replied.
Root shook his head, smiling slightly. "If you're going to do this every night, I might have to keep you around."
Holly laughed. "Just when I'm bored and don't have anything better to do. And I'm warning you: I can't remember the last time I've done anything this extravagant, so it could possibly taste horrible. Are there any leads on the terrorist?"
Root momentarily thought about lying, but then said, "Kind of. At least one of them works in the LEP and knows you well."
Holly's eyes widened. "Why?" she asked.
"The handwriting on that note was yours," Root answered. At Holly's look, he hurriedly added, "But it's not yours. I mean, you didn't do it."
"Obviously," Holly snapped and set the bowl of sauce on the counter. She poured it into a streaming pot of spaghetti and started mixing it. She stopped. "Are you sure there aren't any other clues?"
"Only that whoever is in the LEP might be hired by somebody else, so if you can think of anybody that stupid, I suppose it could be helpful," Root replied, sitting down at the kitchen table.
Holly snorted. "Easy. Frond."
Root sighed. "I already thought of her. She doesn't have a motive. Why would she want to keep women out of Recon when I know for a fact she wants to come up?"
"To get me out so she could go in?" Holly suggested, although she knew the argument wasn't very strong.
"You're being promoted to Lieutenant soon so another woman is coming into Recon as a Captain anyways," Root reasoned. "She knows it's probably going to be her."
"Well maybe she wants to be the first Lieutenant or maybe she has a grudge against me . . . which I know she does," Holly replied.
"I guess . . ." Root trailed off. He sighed again. "She's just not smart enough."
"But if she was bought, she could've easily swiped a sample of my handwriting and dropped off the note," Holly argued.
"But there isn't any evidence against her," Root replied.
"Fingerprints?" Holly suggested. "On the note?"
"Only ours," Root answered.
Holly turned back to the spaghetti and stabbed it angrily with the large wooden fork she had been using to stir it with. "This . . . is . . . not . . . fair," she said angrily, punctuating each word with a stab at the spaghetti.
"Life isn't," Root replied and went over to Holly, gently removing the fork from her grasp. "If you break it into a thousand pieces, it will be practically impossible to eat," he said and put the fork in the sink. He took out two plates, loaded them with the spaghetti and salad that Holly had made and brought them to the kitchen table where Holly was sitting with her head in her hands. Root said the plates down, quickly squeezed Holly's shoulder comfortingly and sat down across from her. "We'll get them, Holly," Root assured her. "I promise, whoever it is, we'll get them and throw them into Howler's Peak for life."
Holly looked up, wiping the stray tears that had leaked from her eyes. "But what about until then?" she asked, her voice coming out high and scared. "For all you know, you're house could be wired and explode sometime this morning." Holly seemed to suddenly realize this. She stood up, saying, "I can't stay here. I can't endanger you."
"Holly, wait," Root called after her retreating form, following her out of the kitchen and to the basement where she was pulling her clothes out of the dresser. "Holly, look at me," Root told her. When she didn't turn around, he went over to her and gently put his hands on her shoulders, turning her so she was facing him. "I can't let you leave. You don't have anywhere else to go."
"And I can't stay here," she replied, shaking free of Root's grip. "I can't endanger you like this. If I die, I'm replaceable. You're the Commander. You know the LEP can't function properly without you. You *can't* die." With that, Holly went upstairs and left, ignoring Root's protests.
*
Once outside, Holly looked around, not knowing where to go. She definitely couldn't stay here, and she definitely couldn't go to Foaly's. In fact, if she didn't want to endanger anyone else, she couldn't go anywhere. Pulling the buttoned shirt close around her, she began walking towards the park that was a few blocks away, praying Root wouldn't come after her.
Once she was there, she found a secluded corner with one of the few trees that had managed to grow below ground and settled against it, knowing that she wouldn't sleep at all that day. She ignored the tears running down her cheeks and instead listened to the steady beat of the traffic, traffic that didn't let up even in the middle of the day.
*
Root sat down on the bed amidst the clothes that Holly had already pulled out and thought about what he should do. Eventually he got up and called all the motels in the area, asking if Holly had been there and telling them to call him if she came. That completed, he went back upstairs and poked the dinner she had made, not eating it.
*
The next day Holly sighed into work, still wearing the filthy buttoned shirt and cargo pants that she had worn the previous night. The first thing she did was go to Root's office and knock on his door.
"Come in," he called out.
Holly walked into his office and sat down at the chair, toying with the buttons as she did so.
"Holly! Where were you?" Root asked.
In a tone of defeat, she said flatly, "I think it would be better if I didn't come into work until the terrorists are caught."
Root stared at her in amazement. Was she really saying this? "Holly, you can't give up. I know that you don't want anyone else to get hurt, but we need you here. Maybe you can think of someone or something that might-"
Holly shook her head. "No," she interrupted in the same flat voice, the one that almost scared Root. "I can't do that to the LEP."
"Then I order you to stay," Root snapped, trying to put on his usual air command instead of comforting her.
"Then I'll disobey your order," Holly replied and started to get up.
"You realize that if you choose to ignore me, you'll lose your chance at a promotion and could possibly lose your job?" he threatened.
"Fine. I can't endanger all of these people. I just can't," she replied and walked out, leaving Root staring after her in amazement. The thought "This can't be happening, this can't be happening" kept running through his head, immobilizing him, preventing him from stopping her.
*
Holly wandered around Haven City at random, trying to figure out where to go. Where could she possibly go where no one would find her? Haven City was big, yes, but that meant there were lost of fairies and not a lot of hiding places.
"Then leave Haven," the voice told her.
"No. That's stupid. Now I'm just panicking," Holly told herself. But the idea did seem rather welcome.
"It's only until the terrorist is caught," the voice urged her. "If you go to Atlantis, you can stay with Yonah and you can still get the news paper so you'll know when the terrorist is caught."
"No . . . Stop. I'm panicking," Holly told herself nervously. She didn't panic. She was, after all, famous for keeping a cool head in difficult situations.
"Or how about above ground?" the voice asked. "You can go to Disneyland Paris, or just stay the woods."
"Definitely panicking," Holly repeated. "I can't go above ground. That's just stupid."
"Really?" the voice teased. "You can get away from everyone, replenish your magic and come back later. Think of it as a vacation."
Hmm . . . it was high time she did the Ritual. In fact, if Root knew how low she was, he'd force her to go above ground. So if she got in trouble . . . "Alright. Fine. But only for one night," she promised herself and started to make her way back to headquarters.
"Oh, no. You can't go *that* way," the voice told her. "If you go *that* way, they'll know where you're going."
"No. The Upper Elements are huge. They couldn't find me," Holly insisted instantly.
"Yes they could," the voice told her. "They could find you and kill you and- "
"Well what do you suggest I do?" Holly snapped, not wanting to hear anymore.
"Well, you of all fairies should know the *other* routs to get up," the voice said eagerly. "You've spent enough time policing them."
"No. I am *not* breaking the law," Holly yelled at the voice in her head.
"Yes, you are," the voice insisted and pushed her towards the nearest illegal way to the surface. "It's only one time."
"I am NOT doing this!" Holly yelled in her head, but found herself walking anyways.
"It's easier once you start walking, Holly," the voice said.
She couldn't argue that. Once she was walking, it *did* seem very easy to just keep on going. Pushing the thoughts of what she was doing to the back of her head, she jogged to the nearest way up.
When she caught sight of the entrance in the deserted tunnel she was in now, she started to think about what she was doing again. Was she really going to take an illegal flare up to the surface because of terrorists? Was she really running away?
"Just for a while," the voice said and pushed her doubts to the back of her head.
Taking a deep breath, Holly stepped out of the shadows and walked over to the elf that was guarding the entrance. His eyes narrow on seeing her.
"What do you want?" he asked gruffly.
"To go up," Holly said simply. "Ireland."
The elf looked at a list and then back at Holly. "Name?"
"Regan Branch," she said instantly, the voice in her head supplying the name.
"ID?" he asked.
Holly froze. "Don't have any," she said. "Running away. Already ditched it."
The elf grinned at her, a cold smile that didn't reach his eyes and almost made Holly shiver. "Then you'll fit right in. Can you fly a pod?"
"Of course," Holly snapped.
"That'll be thirty bucks," he said, holding out a grimy hand.
"Oh, shit," Holly thought. "Where am I going to get that?"
The elf grinned nastily at her, knowing what she was thinking. "Don't have it, do you?"
"Like I said, I'm running away," Holly replied.
The elf seemed to consider this for a bit. "I suppose I can make an exception, but I'm warning you: don't try this again," he snapped. "Go in. You'll see what to do."
Taking a deep breath, Holly stepped into the dark chamber behind the elf. She let her eyes adjust to the light before going on.
"How may I help you?" a slimy voice said from Holly's right.
She jumped and turned to the source of the voice. A sprite this time, his green skin glowing eerily in the dim light. "I-Ireland," she stammered. "And a pair of wings."
The sprite smiled evilly at her, revealing half rotted teeth.
"What am I doing?" she thought suddenly and considered running back to headquarters, apologizing to Root and going back to work.
"Oh no you don't," the voice said.
"The wings'll be an extra twenty," he sneered.
"See? I have to go back," she told herself.
"He's a sprite, Holly," the ever-present voice said. "A *sprite*."
Holly inwardly flinched as she realized what she had to do, but resigned herself to the task. She gave the sprite her most pathetic and needy look as she said, "I'm afraid I'm a little light. Could you possibly help me?"
"It's working," the voice said at the sprite's look. "No sprite could possibly resist helping a beautiful elf."
"Well . . ." he trailed off.
Holly sighed dejectedly and gave him a puppy dog look, inwardly hating herself for it. "It's just this once . . ."
The sprite couldn't help but smile to himself. How could he possibly resist her? "I suppose just this once . . ." he said, leading her over to a rack of wings. He unhooked an ancient pair of Dragonflies, Holly's least favourite model, not that she could complain. "I expect these back in top condition," he warned and walked over to a pod. "This is your pod. Equipped with all the modern technology."
Holly grimaced. Modern technology from maybe fifty years ago. But, again, she couldn't complain. She went in and strapped herself into the seat. "When's the next flare coming?" she asked.
"Just about now," the sprite said and Holly felt the pod begin to move forwards. It rocked and pitched against the tunnel floor and Holly yet again wondered what she had gotten herself into. The point of this trip wasn't to die. She took a deep breath and let her natural instincts take over. The huge column was looming in front of her, getting closer by the second. Holly closed her eyes for a fraction of a second as she felt the pod tip over the edge and spin down into the abyss.
"Oh, god, I'm going to die," she thought to herself, looking at the monitor.
"No you're not. Don't panic. You can feel the flare coming," the voice inside her head said quickly, willing her not to loose her head.
It was true. She could feel the flare. In seconds, it had engulfed her and she was riding probably the biggest flare she had ever felt to the surface. When it eventually tapered out, Holly was only about fifty feet away from the landing dock and easily coasted to it. She sent the grippers out at exactly the right moment, securing herself to the dock. She released the harness holding her into the pod and stepped out, breathing the clean surface air. Well, cleaner than the stale air down in the tunnels. The humans had poisoned it so much-
"Stop thinking negatively," the voice in her head demanded as Holly walked out of the tunnels holding the Dragonflies safe against her and into the surface. "Relax. You're on vacation."
"Vacation . . . yeah, sure. Why not?" Holly thought to herself as she randomly wandered around.
"Hey . . . wait a second," the voice in her head said. "Doesn't that look familiar?"
Holly looked at the wall again. She had been about to turn away form it as the last thing she needed was to come into contact with humans. But it did look familiar. Too familiar . . .
"Oh, shit," she said out loud, realizing where she was. "Why the *hell* is there a tunnel this close to here?"
"It's illegal, remember? The LEP thought they shut it down years ago . . ." the voice whispered nastily. "So, what are you going to do about being so close to here? You know you could easily fly over the top and go wring his neck."
"Not a chance," she snapped, convincing even the voice.
"Then why not go talk to him? See how he's doing?" the voice pestered.
"No," Holly repeated. "I'm not going there ever again."
"Why not go talk to him? You need someone to talk to," the voice suggested.
"I AM *NOT* GOING TO GO ASK ARTEMIS FOWL FOR HELP!" Holly yelled aloud and then realized her mistake. "Shit," she whispered, strapped on the wings and flew to the nearest tree a second before a guard came out to see what had happened. When he didn't see anything, he went back to his post approximately ten feet away.
"Shit," Holly mumbled again, looking at the sky. Apparently everything had taken longer than she had thought. There were the faintest traces of light peeking over the horizon.
"Come on," the voice urged. "You can't stay out here during the day. You can go to Fowl, spend the day there and leave. Do the Ritual and go back down. Nobody will think the lesser of you because nobody will *know*."
"*I'll* know," Holly insisted.
There was more light now, coming faster and faster.
"You need to survive!" the voice yelled. "Do you want to die?"
"No . . . I don't," Holly whispered out loud. That was how she found herself knocking on the front door of Fowl Manor, praying that somebody was home.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Hmmm . . . I really hope that wasn't too out of character on Holly's part. I know it might be, but it's interesting, don't you think? Besides, you never know what people, or fairies in this case, might do under huge amounts of stress. Wouldn't *you* want to run if there were a group of terrorists after you?