Not far beyond the ramshackle goblin ghettos lies an oasis of affluence, known by most of the underworld simply as the Silver Valley. The denizens of the Silver Valley are a rather more respectable lot, famous far and wide for their hospitality, warmth and good cheer. The source of their wealth is the famous ore mines, practically ubiquitous in the rolling plains. The precious mines were their source of providence for many generations and as they hoped, would be for many generations to come. They are grateful for them as they are grateful for their majestic mountain borders which serve as their fortress protection from the envy of less happier lands. The Silver Valley fairies were never invulnerable, however from sporadic raids from the goblins of the Ghetto, so news of their neighbors' destruction provoked at worst a mixed response.

There was talk of little else in the town, for though they might seem a world apart, the hellish Ghetto was but a half-day's journey from the paradise of Silver Valley.  Though the goblins' complete and utter annihilation was seen by many as an unexpected blessing, there was more than a whimper of disapproval at what the cataclysm brought with it.

The fairies of the Silver Valley are a peculiar lot. Centuries separated from the rest of the underworld by the imposing Vulcan mountain range have forged in them a strong sense of independence. The famed kindly spirit of the Valley fairies extended only to the weary traveller staying the night or the unfortunate mountaineer frostbitten in a futile conquest of a Vulcan mount. They resent any form of authority imposed by outsiders, and the banners of the LEP are as unwelcome here as they were in the darkest corners of the old Ghetto.

Commander Root paced nervously under the canopy of his temporary headquarters.  His mission here was in jeopardy, in no small part to the uncooperativeness of the Valley fairies. He was here to commence a massive evacuation exercise, in wake of the obliteration of the Ghetto. But the denizens of the Valley didn't seem to appreciate the possibility that such a disaster would happen to their beloved Valley. Was the calamity not punishment of the ghetto's many sins? There wasn't a single miner or merchant in the Valley who questioned the hand of Providence in slaying the rogues, why would it now turn on them?

Root took a deep breath.

 "Spool," he addressed the young elf corporal standing just beside the entrance. "Give me a report on the progress in the southwest sector."

Spool cleared his throat. He was a bright prospect in the LEP, one of Root's most promising recruits. He was born and bred in the Silver Valley and as one of the few Valley fairies in the LEP, his contribution here would be vital. Root knew this, and had hoped that the presence of one of their kinsmen in charge of the mission would pacify the indignant Valley fairies.

"The dwarves in the southwest sector refuse to leave the mines, Sir. The chieftain has sent us a message declaring his refusal to cooperate, but unfortunately it contains some umm, undesirable terms.…"

Commander Root buried his face in his hands. "Great, is there any way things could get any worse?"

"Oh, plenty sir. A mob of drunken centaurs could break in and start defecating in your sleeping quarters in protest. Vandals could go around town spraying 'Root is a fuddy-duddy' on the building walls. A horde of disgruntled elves might-"

"Rhetorical question, Spool"

"Sorry Sir, I do get carried away at times."

Root sighed, and slumped into a chair. He didn't really think the mission was necessary either. But orders from upstairs were to evacuate everyone to a nearby centaur village. They didn't want an encore of whatever struck the ghetto to wipe out the entire valley population. Root personally felt that the cataclysm was caused by a quartzic detonator mishandled by the ignorant ghetto dwellers. Surely no natural disaster would do so much damage…

"Oh, Sir, I have some other reports" said Spool, interrupting Commander Root's train of thought. "Do you remember that dwarf you sent to scout the ghetto?"

"Dwarf?" Root was puzzled for a moment. "Oh, you mean Mulch? I sent him away so he'd keep his noses off the contents of the silver mint here, while we're moving them to a safe place. You have no idea how much havoc that rascal could cause if he was busybodying around. Frankly, he was the one who wanted to go, strange fellow he is. I was very glad to see the back of him, though."

"Well, err, there's someone here to see you about him-"

Spool was interrupted as a shabbily dressed goblin with a huge knapsack on his back rushed in, tripped over a chair and fell face down on the hard cement floor. Root and Spool were still stunned when the familiar figure of Holly calmly stepped in and waved a hello to Root.

"Holly, what is the meaning of this?" Root inquired in an irritated tone.

Spool responded brightly. "Well Sir, the wave of the hand is a practice with human origin, and its intended purpose is normally to be a gesture of friendship. I think it's her way of saying…"

"Shut up, Spool"

'Yes Sir"

Holly glanced quizzically at the pair for a moment, before recounting in an urgent tone.

"I was following Mulch" Holly said, "you know you can't trust him; so I was wondering what he was up to in the ghetto.  I was keeping an eye on him but I lost track when a huge sandstorm blew. "

"And?" Root was getting impatient.

"I found him in the end. Or rather, Furt did."

Commander Root and Spool turned towards the goblin, still lying face down on the ground.

"Furt, you can get up now…" implored Holly, impatiently.

Furt quickly stood up. Spool recoiled in revulsion. "A ghetto goblin…" he hissed.

"Yes, a ghetto goblin." Holly continued. "The only survivor of the disaster.  I found him after the sandstorm resided, with Mulch in his arms."

"How romantic." Root commented sardonically. "Now where is the rascal? I bet he's halfway through the mint's coffers already…"

"Don't bet on it." Holly said quietly.

"He certainly won't. Gambling is strictly prohibited in the LEP code of honour. As our revered leader, Commander Root has always been a shining example of…"

"Shut up, Spool." said Holly and Root simultaneously

.

Furt opened his knapsack and the crumpled body of Mulch tumbled out. His face was barely recognizable, with black burn marks all over his skin.  His eyes were like those of dead fish, staring blankly into space. His mouth was contorted into and expression of pure terror. He breathed, but his gasps for air were shallow and irregular.

Nobody said anything for a few moments before Commander Root broke the silence. "I thought he was ugly before," he muttered. "Did you try healing?"

"I did" Holly replied. "Nothing worked."

"Well, he's certainly not dead." Root continued. "Not entirely sure that's a good thing. But what could have possibly caused…"

"Furt found this too." Holly handed a curious piece of metal to Corporal Spool, who examined it thoroughly.

"Sir, it's a circuit board." Spool gasped. "And by design it looks…"

Spool paused for a moment as he took the information in. His eyes widened as he reached his conclusion.

"…human"

"Human? That's not possible!" Commander Root scoffed. "Unless…"

Commander Root glanced meekly at Holly, and suggested hesitantly. "Artemis Fowl? Would he…?"

A dark look entered Holly's expression. "I certainly hope not." She finally let out. But I think we'd better call Foaly…

Root reached for his communicator. It was very old technology by fairy standards but Commander Root was never comfortable with new-fangled gadgets. He fiddled with a few buttons and then waited for a response.

All he got was static.

"That's strange; it worked fine a few hours ago…"  Root muttered.

Suddenly they heard a crackle from the communicator, too soft to be intelligible. Root thumped the machine with his fist, and pressed his head against the earpiece until he could hear Foaly's faint voice through the static.

"Well, can you get through?" Holly asked, impatiently.

Root put down the communicator, with a look of panic in his eyes.

"Foaly was on the emergency frequency," Root gasped. "She says the fortress is under attack…"