Another bed collapses, a Secret Tunnel is slightly less Secret, Bob hits a stewpot, Kitsune goes madder, about two lines of Vinyaya, the Tooth Fairy again, Grub eats pizza, Caspian annoys a grownup, and the author manages to be vaguely political. Oo, politics! Tension! Betrayal! Pizza! Random humor and skippy-do-day, yet very little confusing serious plot thingies. And Fallacy.
=
Artemis Fowl: The Ivory Files
By Caspian Nyghtvision
Chapter Fourteen: Something to Do With Something... Or Not
=
Disclaimer: FIFTEEN men on a dead man's chest. Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum. Drink and the de'il do the rest. Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum. (Translation: Nyghtvision owns Atlantean Bogglefish, an annoying foxy fairy, a cynical birdy man, a REALLY annoying pixie-sprite, and a recently collapsed nightclub. The rest belongs to a funky little Irish dude who looks like a leprechaun, and who makes money off it all. Is this fair? She thinks not.)
=
DEDICATION:
Nyghtvision's DEAR little sister, Daedream, did the obligatory beta reading, mocking, and making fun of Fallacy. Cheers to you, kid. (We're so different, we're like Nyght and Dae.)
=
"One day you'll see her and you'll know what I mean
Take her or leave her she will still be the same
She'll not try to buy you with her time
But nothing's the same as you will see when she's gone
It's foreign on this side
And I'll not leave my home again
There's no place to hide and I'm nothing but scared..."
"This Side," Nickel Creek
=
Kitsune opened h sune was in the same hospital room he had been in last time, with the Evil Bed and the Bile-Colored Walls. Except for this time there was a weird little creature dripping mutant pizza toppings all over his chest. "Yes, kudasai. Except I think I've broken both my arms and possibly my brain."
"Yeah, ya do look a little bit splurfy. Those were some nasty cheerleaders. Here, I'll feed it to you." And Grub began to administer pizza like a strange warped version of Florence Nightingale. Except not really.
"Um, what happened?" Kitsune asked after Grub got bored and started trying to inhale soda.
"Oh, well." Grub stuck out his scrawny chest, which was barely noticeable. "There was a bit of a battle." He laced his fingers and stretched in the classic 'it-was-nothing-really' macho gesture. "Which, of course, I won. Did you ever hear of how I single-handedly defeated the human Butler after he took out the entire force of LEPRetrieval One?"
Kitsune got the feeling that he was going to. "Er, I'm from Japan and I just got here really, but--"
"So there I was," Grub said blithely, painting pictures in the sky with his arms and smacking Kitsune in the face, "All alone, standing all by myself with the fallen bodies of my brothers-in-arms strewn around me (Trubbs was there too, he's my brother) and this MASSIVE gigantic dude-- I've seen TROLLS that were smaller-- did you hear about the time with me and the troll?"
"Um, well, I haven't been keeping up with the LEP, in fact I was alone in Japan-"
"HUGE tusks, eyes of flame, muscles like bowling balls, its CLAWS alone were bigger than-- Oh, but I was telling you about the goblins!" Grub bounced in excitement, knocking the wind out of Kitsune. "So there I was, facing down a cheerleading squad of goblins, with their fireballs and their pom-poms-- thankfully they were distracted--"
"Beating me up," Kitsune wheezed.
"Yeah, beating on you, right--" One of Grub's flamboyant hand gestures caught in an IV, and knocked over, in quick succession, two drip stands, a clipboard, a small, innocent potted plant, a random tray of nasty-looking medical instruments, and, finally, the trip lever for the hospital bed.
Kitsune yelped as the IV yanked out of his arm; his sixth sense was picking up nagging feelings of impending doom. That was happening quite a lot recently.
Predictably, the bed collapsed, taking the rest of the room with it. Well, that's not quite true, the ceiling stayed up and the floor was only slightly chipped. But the walls did take a beating, and the potted plant would never be the same again.
The medic (ironically enough, it was the same male warlock as last time) stuck his head in and saw two dazed forms within the rubble; one had long spiky red hair, the other had short tousled pink hair with brownish roots showing. Kitsune and Grub contrived to look innocent, yet slightly sheepish.
"He did it." Grub instantly pointed to Kitsune.
Kitsune screamed. "Freaking... fairy! You just poked me in the eye!" He clapped his hands over his eyes and crumpled dramatically.
"I can see we'll be wanting morphine all around!" the medic said brightly.
"But, but, I'm not sick," Grub cringed.
The medic got a dangerous look in his eye. Grub gulped. Kitsune popped one eye open and sniggered.
=================================================================
It dawned on Retired Admiral Walter Kelp Hamlet Scrimshaw (Atlantean Ambassador) that this terribly young, disgustingly determined young elf, with the glint of humor and/or madness in her hazel eyes, was not really a banker after all.
It was when she grabbed him by the lapels and started gibbering about the Netherworld Flamingo, cellophane and a rescue parrot that he began to think this. Scrimshaw began to have glimmerings of a terrible and awful thought. He might have to listen to her.
He'd never liked young people, especially not the caffeine-crazed, obsessive, generally weird little rats that were being produced today.
Everywhere Scrimshaw looked he saw entropy. A female captain in the LEP, for example. Holly Short! What a disgrace. Then that little minx, Opal Koboi, who had usurped her hardworking father -- Scrimshaw had approved of Ferall Koboi, and often saw him at charity benefits. And a few months ago, a group of young, college-age sprites and pixies had actually protested a Council decision against flying in the streets.
Publicly opposing the Council! Goodness sakes, it would never have happened in Frond's day.
(Speaking of, Scrimshaw was perfectly fine with Lili Frond being in the LEP. Sweet girl. Knew her place. Called him "Uncle Walter" and danced with him at parties.)
Caspian was continuing with the obscene blitheness of youth, "This tunnel -- it's freaking big enough for a troll to get through! And the worst part is, we have no idea where it leads... We just know that if you're Vice Corporal Fallacy and immune to common sense, you'll end up in the Arctic Circle... we think he caught fire somewhere along the way, 'cuz of the scorchmarks, but that could have just been normal. It being Fallacy and all."
Damn this little -- the Arctic? The Arctic Circle? Scrimshaw suddenly felt himself intensely interested. "Look here, you young cur, why didn't you tell us this sooner?!"
Caspian seemed unfazed. "Well, it only opened up about a year ago, after the B'wa Kell shoved a bomb through the plumbing. To tell you the truth we didn't notice it until Fallacy went into the kitchen looking for the dishwasher and he sort of fell in. So we covered it up with cellophane and duct tape and forgot about it."
"Hmn." Scrimshaw sat back. "Actually... that could be important. The Arctic, you say?"
=================================================
When we last abandoned Lili to the whims of a scene change, she was being blinded by a bright light. Amusing though it would be to leave her there, we will now restore her vision and continue her part.
The bright light died down to reveal a Barbie doll, if Barbie was three feet tall and had sparkly wings.
Lili blinked.
And blinked again. And blinked some more, and rubbed her eyes, and whimpered. "Ow."
The Tooth Fairy rolled the lovely, sapphire blue, almond-shaped, velvet-lashed orbs of her eyes.
"Lili," she intoned, and the author is too busy retching melodramatically to describe the Tooth Fairy's lovely, well-balanced, tuneful voice.
"Y-Yes?"
"I have a great task for you, Lili. And you... you are the only one who can fulfill it."
Holding onto the doorway, Takaban had pulled himself together. Mimicking the actions of the author and readers, he rolled his own eyes expressively.
The Tooth Fairy ignored him; her voice went on rapturously, angelically. "Because of your blood, Lili. Because Frond's legacy repeats itself in you..."
Lili was nodding like her head was on strings. From the doorway came a barely audible "Oh, *please.*"
"You may not know it, but destiny has chosen you to restore the ancient reign of Frond--" The Tooth Fairy scowled petulantly. "Excuse me a moment. Takaban!"
Takaban had given up being subtle, and was now weakly beating his head against the doorframe.
"Takaban, what the hell are you doing?"
He had the crazy-birdy look in his eyes -- the deranged glare that has been passed down in the Aves order since the first nightmarish, Jurassic-Park Kill-O-Raptor suddenly decided to devote the next million years of its life to growing feathers, hopping around and going 'tweet.' "Attempting to kill myself so I don't have to listen to this sickening rubbish. Any other sane person would, too."
Lili turned to scowl at him as well, her entire body language allying herself with the Tooth Fairy. Takaban didn't fail to notice this.
"Except her. Completely under your thrall. Excuse me while I retch. Actually... I think I really am going to be sick...."
"That's enough!" The Tooth Fairy snapped, raising a threatening hand. Takaban limped out of the doorway just as the door slammed shut with decapitating force. A few ratty feathers caught in the doorjamb and scattered across the floor. Feeling truly ts for over a day.
Oh well. Maybe this time it would be different.
------------------------------
And Now, Back to Our Bob
-------------------------------
Before leaving, Mel Thorn had put Bob in a large stewpot that she'd managed to find. (Holly kept it around for punch-making purposes, although she never made punch.) Then she went away, singing.
Now Bob the Atlantean Bogglefish was confronted with a new dilemma; The New Stewpot.
What to do? What to say? What to think? Bob's brain promptly fizzed out, overloaded by the day's excitement. Frantically his little neurons struggled to survive. When Bob woke up, he was floating on his back and hiccuping.
Hiccup. Stream of bubbles. Astonished boggle. (What ARE those?)
Hiccup. Stream of bubbles. Incredulous boggle. (Good God! There are more of them!)
Hiccup. Stream of bubbles. Suspicious boggle. (I need a life.)
Bob promptly set out to Get a Life. This consisted of bonking heroically into the sides of the stewpot. Thankfully bogglefish have very resilient noses, as they are always doing things like that.
Bob bonked for a while, then lay back and stared up at the ceiling. (Mein Gott! What is a ceiling?).
The very existence of Atlantean Bogglefish (Gogglus piscus) has caused several debates to break out among the more philosophical fairies. Evolution versus Creation versus Randomism.
Some fairies hold out that Bogglefish disprove Evolution. "Bogglefish can kill themselves by forgetting that they can breathe underwater. When threatened by a predator, they pretend to be food. When they manage to reproduce it's mostly accidental, and then they accidentally inhale their offspring. Try telling THEM about survival of the fittest. They had to be Created."
Some fairies hold out that Bogglefish disprove Creation. "If you believe in Creation, you have to believe in the grand scheme of things, where every living creature is a thread in a complex tapestry. In the Grand Tapestry of Life, the Atlantean Bogglefish is a piece of carpet lint that sort of stuck there. They must have Evolved, possibly from carpet lint."
And some fairies hold to the school of thought called Randomism, which sometimes answers "42," and sometimes quotes a human named Terry Pratchett. Nobody understands the Randomists, so they must be right.
------------------
Vinyaya's Study
-------------------
Vinyaya paced back and forth in her study like a caged wildcat. A sudden thought struck her like a thunderbolt chucked by a particularly annoyed Roman god.
There was more than one use for human ivory.
Fairies have the Gift. Humans have their own magic...
For some reason, she felt that Artemis Fowl was in danger.
-----------------
Fowl Manor
-----------------
Artemis Fowl the Second stood with his slim hands clasped behind his back, as Butler unlocked the back door. It had been an incredibly long night; dawn was poetically beginning to streak the horizon. Rosy-fingered and all that. Artemis was ready for a good, long nap.
During his brief hours underground, Artemis had Devised a Plan. He and Butler would return to Fowl Manor, where they would get some sleep. Meanwhile Root would gather a team to set up a time-stop. Once Artemis and Butler were rested enough for adventuring, they would drug the other inhabitants of Fowl Manor, set off for a prearranged shuttle, and wait to be collected by the LEP.
That way everyone got a short break to rearrange their tired minds and Devise Devious Plans. And, with the timestop, Artemis's parents wouldn't be asking any uncomfortable questions -- like, "Where's Artemis?" "What kind of weapons are those?" "Why is there a shuttle on our lawn?"
And, from our beloved Angeline Fowl: "Who are those rather dear little pointy-eared men scampering about on the lawn?" and "Arty dear, shouldn't you invite your little friends in for tea?"
Artemis shuddered to think. It would be *much* better to have that timestop.
Juliet, too, would have to go under. The less contact she had with the People, the better. Perhaps he would leave Mulch awake, to look after the fort. So many decisions to make.
Butler finally got the complicated door open and held it for Artemis. They were entering secretively through the kitchen, as it would cause less disturbance.
At least, that was the Plan. However, Fate has a weird little sense of humor.
Artemis almost stepped on his father's head.
"Helloooo, lil' Arty," Artemis the First (hereafter known as Mr. Fowl) greeted blithely from the linoleum. He was spreadeagled on the floor, drooling slightly as he gazed lovingly at the ceiling.
Artemis the Second stared in shock.
"And there's But.. Buh... Bull... Bullter... Big-Guy! Too!" Mulch managed to say. He was lying on the stovetop in much the same way, staring at the ceiling in unfocused awe.
"Dear... dear boy." Mr. Fowl pulled the stunned Artemis to the floor. "Look-- look-- LOOK at this. Just LOOK at it."
"Look at what, Father?" Artemis mumbled in shock.
"The sky... plaster... floor... big... top... thing." Mr. Fowl closed his eyes. "It's... it's too BIG for words."
"Ceiling?" Butler supplied, staring at the prone human and dwarf.
"Ceiling!" Mulch promptly burst into grimy tears.
Mr. Fowl opened his eyes, saw the ceiling, and started sobbing. "Oh Lord! The ceiling!"
"Father...?" Artemis whispered through dry lips. "What about the ceiling?"
"It... it's so..." Mr. Fowl grabbed Artemis's shoulder, pulling himself into a sitting position. He stared at Artemis with religious zeal. "It's so... beautiful."
Mulch sob probably picturing right now. Pure Bogglefish Shock. Priceless, really priceless. A Kodak moment. Bob would be proud.
"It's astounding," Mr. Fowl whimpered, "How UP it is."
He struggled to rise; a dazed Butler helped him up. "Look at it, son. Look... and marvel."
Three humans and a dwarf stared up at the ceiling. Mr. Fowl and Mulch looked at it like it was a choir of angels. Artemis and Butler looked at it in confusion, brains whimpering.
"Er, Mr. Fowl, would you like to go to bed?" Butler tried. He took his senior employer by the elbow and gently escorted him out.
As they walked out of the kitchen door, Mr. Fowl blinked at the hallway. His gaze traveled upwards.
"OH my GOD! The CEILING!"
Artemis decided that the minute he was turning eighteen, he was going to America or somewhere. It got so tiring, being the only sane one in the family.
===================
Scrimshaw's Office
===================
The Atlantean Ambassador made a phone call.
"Hello, dear girl. How have you been? How's your campaign? Good, good, brilliant. Julius giving you any trouble? Yes, he's found out what you're doing. No, I don't think he's connected it to you yet... yes, dear, this is a secure line. Yes, I'm sure."
There was a pause. Scrimshaw rubbed the bridge of his nose. "What banging, thumping and muffled cursing?" he sighed into the telephone.
From the corner of his office came the scrape of metal, something that sounded like someone hopping while tied to a chair, and the sound of someone saying "D'Arvit" through a bandanna.
"Oh. THAT banging, thumping and muffled cursing." Scrimshaw shot a dirty look into the corner. "That was a young elf who just got what she deserved."
"MMFF!" said the young elf, who didn't look like she enjoyed getting what she deserved. Caspian was tied to the chair in the classic hostage-in-a-bad-movie position. She started hopping towards the bathroom.
Scrimshaw continued talking on the phone. "She had some quite interesting information for us, you know. It could quite possibly turn the tide for your campaign... there's a tunnel. A secret tunnel into Haven, which starts out in some despicably random nightclub and ends up quite near your headquarters. Yes, quite near, I'm sure. Yes, it is useful, isn't it?"
There was a loud 'sploosh' from the bathroom. Scrimshaw's alligator loafers filled with water.
"I'm sorry dear, I have to go. I think the little brat's just destroyed the water main."
=====================
Artemis's Bedroom
=====================
Artemis loosened his tie, gazing out his window at the poetic dawn.
So much to think about. Plans to make.
He smoothed the silk tie and hung it up. In the past twenty-four hours he'd been punched, escaped a magma flare, and held Holly's hand. In the past week he'd staked out a bank and learned of an impending sibling.
Eurgh, no. Artemis tried not to think of the impending sibling. He was a criminal mastermind. He liked control.
He pulled off his shoes and lined them up by his bed. Carefully. Toes perfectly even. Peeled back the upper layer of his sheets, carefully climbed into bed. Stared at the ceiling. Tried to sleep. Couldn't stop thinking.
Should I leave Mulch awake?
It seems wrong, putting my family to sleep...
No one to guard them...
It's always me. It's always me looking after all the others. And they never notice.
I think too much. I need to relax.
I'll give myself a heart attack just like Root.
... I wonder if the fairies would save me?
=====================
Hospital Room
=====================
"DUDE! Little pawny dude! Like, dead! Aiee!"
Grub and Fallacy were sitting on Kitsune's bed, playing chess. They'd decided he needed Cheering Up while some of his more major bones mended. Kitsune was attempting to read. Obviously it wasn't working.
"So there I was," Grub started up again around a mouthful of potato chips, "Facing down an entire gang of goblins and trolls."
"Dude, your king can't, like, do that. Like."
"Yes he can, he's got a machine gun, see?"
"Oh. Dude." Fallacy pulled out a small toy truck and used it to run over half of Grub's pawns. "Like, half your army perished in, like, a horrible car accident."
"Aw, man. We didn't have insurance either." Grub reached for another handful of chips; almost all of them ended up in his mouth. He reached for his soda, which spilled all over the chessboard. Kitsune groaned and started beating himself on the head with his book.
Fallacy peered at the soda spill. "Dude, like, my bishop perished in, like, a terrible flash flood of soda. Dude."
Kitsune sat bolt upright and started screaming in Japanese. "Will you STOP saying 'LIKE?' GET a freaking DICTIONARY! I'm not even a NATIVE and I speak better than you do! Shut UP!"
The two small fairies stared at him like bunny rabbits.
"Dude," Grub squeaked in terror.
"GAH!" Kitsune screamed. This caused the bed to fall over.
Vice Corporal Fallacy lifted the mattress off his head and squinted at the ruins of the chessboard. "Dude, like, our entire armies were wiped out in, like, a massive ground-shaky thing."
From beneath a pile of crumpled rods, Kitsune rubbed his temples and whimpered. "Earthquake?"
"Dude."
================================================================
AUTHOR RANT
Caspian: MMMFFF!
Kitsune: Ha ha, she got herself tied to a chair! She got herself tied to a chair! Neener neener!
Takaban: Which means... it's up to us to do the author rant.
Bob: O.O ((I need a makeup crew!)) (bounces off in his water-filled fish-ball)
Takaban: (bored beyond belief) The author realizes that we original characters have played large parts in this chapter. She hopes that this will not prove troublesome. Also, Kitsune has taken Blue Yeti's Mary Sue Litmus Test, and is now officially slightly below a Borderline Gary Stu.
Kitsune: Oh yes, I'm SO developed, me.
Caspian: Mmph, mm fuffle fff! Mf-mail!
Takaban: Oh yes. Trixi AKA Bubbly Hooplah, please email Caspian, since she can't find you anywhere.
Kitsune: Same goes for Meade. What? (looks at clipboard) Mee-ah-dee. Meed. May-aid? Meedee-- Me-ade?
Takaban: (clutching hair) MEADE.
Kitsune: Ah yes, we can't find your email either. (Silly Fido!)
Takaban: (still bored out of his skull) Also, this is the first chapter to be heralded by the Ivory Files Mailing List... the ML is just a newsletter that you can get, telling you when we're updated. None of this messing about with Yahoo, because it gives Bob migraines. If you want to be informed of updates, email us.
Opal: You know, with Cas out of commission, we get her email account!
Caspian: NNH!
Opal: It's caspian_scholar@hotmail.com.
Caspian: NGG!
Takaban: Think we should ungag her?
Kitsune: Actually, I like her better this way...
=
Artemis Fowl: The Ivory Files
By Caspian Nyghtvision
Chapter Fourteen: Something to Do With Something... Or Not
=
Disclaimer: FIFTEEN men on a dead man's chest. Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum. Drink and the de'il do the rest. Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum. (Translation: Nyghtvision owns Atlantean Bogglefish, an annoying foxy fairy, a cynical birdy man, a REALLY annoying pixie-sprite, and a recently collapsed nightclub. The rest belongs to a funky little Irish dude who looks like a leprechaun, and who makes money off it all. Is this fair? She thinks not.)
=
DEDICATION:
Nyghtvision's DEAR little sister, Daedream, did the obligatory beta reading, mocking, and making fun of Fallacy. Cheers to you, kid. (We're so different, we're like Nyght and Dae.)
=
"One day you'll see her and you'll know what I mean
Take her or leave her she will still be the same
She'll not try to buy you with her time
But nothing's the same as you will see when she's gone
It's foreign on this side
And I'll not leave my home again
There's no place to hide and I'm nothing but scared..."
"This Side," Nickel Creek
=
Kitsune opened h sune was in the same hospital room he had been in last time, with the Evil Bed and the Bile-Colored Walls. Except for this time there was a weird little creature dripping mutant pizza toppings all over his chest. "Yes, kudasai. Except I think I've broken both my arms and possibly my brain."
"Yeah, ya do look a little bit splurfy. Those were some nasty cheerleaders. Here, I'll feed it to you." And Grub began to administer pizza like a strange warped version of Florence Nightingale. Except not really.
"Um, what happened?" Kitsune asked after Grub got bored and started trying to inhale soda.
"Oh, well." Grub stuck out his scrawny chest, which was barely noticeable. "There was a bit of a battle." He laced his fingers and stretched in the classic 'it-was-nothing-really' macho gesture. "Which, of course, I won. Did you ever hear of how I single-handedly defeated the human Butler after he took out the entire force of LEPRetrieval One?"
Kitsune got the feeling that he was going to. "Er, I'm from Japan and I just got here really, but--"
"So there I was," Grub said blithely, painting pictures in the sky with his arms and smacking Kitsune in the face, "All alone, standing all by myself with the fallen bodies of my brothers-in-arms strewn around me (Trubbs was there too, he's my brother) and this MASSIVE gigantic dude-- I've seen TROLLS that were smaller-- did you hear about the time with me and the troll?"
"Um, well, I haven't been keeping up with the LEP, in fact I was alone in Japan-"
"HUGE tusks, eyes of flame, muscles like bowling balls, its CLAWS alone were bigger than-- Oh, but I was telling you about the goblins!" Grub bounced in excitement, knocking the wind out of Kitsune. "So there I was, facing down a cheerleading squad of goblins, with their fireballs and their pom-poms-- thankfully they were distracted--"
"Beating me up," Kitsune wheezed.
"Yeah, beating on you, right--" One of Grub's flamboyant hand gestures caught in an IV, and knocked over, in quick succession, two drip stands, a clipboard, a small, innocent potted plant, a random tray of nasty-looking medical instruments, and, finally, the trip lever for the hospital bed.
Kitsune yelped as the IV yanked out of his arm; his sixth sense was picking up nagging feelings of impending doom. That was happening quite a lot recently.
Predictably, the bed collapsed, taking the rest of the room with it. Well, that's not quite true, the ceiling stayed up and the floor was only slightly chipped. But the walls did take a beating, and the potted plant would never be the same again.
The medic (ironically enough, it was the same male warlock as last time) stuck his head in and saw two dazed forms within the rubble; one had long spiky red hair, the other had short tousled pink hair with brownish roots showing. Kitsune and Grub contrived to look innocent, yet slightly sheepish.
"He did it." Grub instantly pointed to Kitsune.
Kitsune screamed. "Freaking... fairy! You just poked me in the eye!" He clapped his hands over his eyes and crumpled dramatically.
"I can see we'll be wanting morphine all around!" the medic said brightly.
"But, but, I'm not sick," Grub cringed.
The medic got a dangerous look in his eye. Grub gulped. Kitsune popped one eye open and sniggered.
=================================================================
It dawned on Retired Admiral Walter Kelp Hamlet Scrimshaw (Atlantean Ambassador) that this terribly young, disgustingly determined young elf, with the glint of humor and/or madness in her hazel eyes, was not really a banker after all.
It was when she grabbed him by the lapels and started gibbering about the Netherworld Flamingo, cellophane and a rescue parrot that he began to think this. Scrimshaw began to have glimmerings of a terrible and awful thought. He might have to listen to her.
He'd never liked young people, especially not the caffeine-crazed, obsessive, generally weird little rats that were being produced today.
Everywhere Scrimshaw looked he saw entropy. A female captain in the LEP, for example. Holly Short! What a disgrace. Then that little minx, Opal Koboi, who had usurped her hardworking father -- Scrimshaw had approved of Ferall Koboi, and often saw him at charity benefits. And a few months ago, a group of young, college-age sprites and pixies had actually protested a Council decision against flying in the streets.
Publicly opposing the Council! Goodness sakes, it would never have happened in Frond's day.
(Speaking of, Scrimshaw was perfectly fine with Lili Frond being in the LEP. Sweet girl. Knew her place. Called him "Uncle Walter" and danced with him at parties.)
Caspian was continuing with the obscene blitheness of youth, "This tunnel -- it's freaking big enough for a troll to get through! And the worst part is, we have no idea where it leads... We just know that if you're Vice Corporal Fallacy and immune to common sense, you'll end up in the Arctic Circle... we think he caught fire somewhere along the way, 'cuz of the scorchmarks, but that could have just been normal. It being Fallacy and all."
Damn this little -- the Arctic? The Arctic Circle? Scrimshaw suddenly felt himself intensely interested. "Look here, you young cur, why didn't you tell us this sooner?!"
Caspian seemed unfazed. "Well, it only opened up about a year ago, after the B'wa Kell shoved a bomb through the plumbing. To tell you the truth we didn't notice it until Fallacy went into the kitchen looking for the dishwasher and he sort of fell in. So we covered it up with cellophane and duct tape and forgot about it."
"Hmn." Scrimshaw sat back. "Actually... that could be important. The Arctic, you say?"
=================================================
When we last abandoned Lili to the whims of a scene change, she was being blinded by a bright light. Amusing though it would be to leave her there, we will now restore her vision and continue her part.
The bright light died down to reveal a Barbie doll, if Barbie was three feet tall and had sparkly wings.
Lili blinked.
And blinked again. And blinked some more, and rubbed her eyes, and whimpered. "Ow."
The Tooth Fairy rolled the lovely, sapphire blue, almond-shaped, velvet-lashed orbs of her eyes.
"Lili," she intoned, and the author is too busy retching melodramatically to describe the Tooth Fairy's lovely, well-balanced, tuneful voice.
"Y-Yes?"
"I have a great task for you, Lili. And you... you are the only one who can fulfill it."
Holding onto the doorway, Takaban had pulled himself together. Mimicking the actions of the author and readers, he rolled his own eyes expressively.
The Tooth Fairy ignored him; her voice went on rapturously, angelically. "Because of your blood, Lili. Because Frond's legacy repeats itself in you..."
Lili was nodding like her head was on strings. From the doorway came a barely audible "Oh, *please.*"
"You may not know it, but destiny has chosen you to restore the ancient reign of Frond--" The Tooth Fairy scowled petulantly. "Excuse me a moment. Takaban!"
Takaban had given up being subtle, and was now weakly beating his head against the doorframe.
"Takaban, what the hell are you doing?"
He had the crazy-birdy look in his eyes -- the deranged glare that has been passed down in the Aves order since the first nightmarish, Jurassic-Park Kill-O-Raptor suddenly decided to devote the next million years of its life to growing feathers, hopping around and going 'tweet.' "Attempting to kill myself so I don't have to listen to this sickening rubbish. Any other sane person would, too."
Lili turned to scowl at him as well, her entire body language allying herself with the Tooth Fairy. Takaban didn't fail to notice this.
"Except her. Completely under your thrall. Excuse me while I retch. Actually... I think I really am going to be sick...."
"That's enough!" The Tooth Fairy snapped, raising a threatening hand. Takaban limped out of the doorway just as the door slammed shut with decapitating force. A few ratty feathers caught in the doorjamb and scattered across the floor. Feeling truly ts for over a day.
Oh well. Maybe this time it would be different.
------------------------------
And Now, Back to Our Bob
-------------------------------
Before leaving, Mel Thorn had put Bob in a large stewpot that she'd managed to find. (Holly kept it around for punch-making purposes, although she never made punch.) Then she went away, singing.
Now Bob the Atlantean Bogglefish was confronted with a new dilemma; The New Stewpot.
What to do? What to say? What to think? Bob's brain promptly fizzed out, overloaded by the day's excitement. Frantically his little neurons struggled to survive. When Bob woke up, he was floating on his back and hiccuping.
Hiccup. Stream of bubbles. Astonished boggle. (What ARE those?)
Hiccup. Stream of bubbles. Incredulous boggle. (Good God! There are more of them!)
Hiccup. Stream of bubbles. Suspicious boggle. (I need a life.)
Bob promptly set out to Get a Life. This consisted of bonking heroically into the sides of the stewpot. Thankfully bogglefish have very resilient noses, as they are always doing things like that.
Bob bonked for a while, then lay back and stared up at the ceiling. (Mein Gott! What is a ceiling?).
The very existence of Atlantean Bogglefish (Gogglus piscus) has caused several debates to break out among the more philosophical fairies. Evolution versus Creation versus Randomism.
Some fairies hold out that Bogglefish disprove Evolution. "Bogglefish can kill themselves by forgetting that they can breathe underwater. When threatened by a predator, they pretend to be food. When they manage to reproduce it's mostly accidental, and then they accidentally inhale their offspring. Try telling THEM about survival of the fittest. They had to be Created."
Some fairies hold out that Bogglefish disprove Creation. "If you believe in Creation, you have to believe in the grand scheme of things, where every living creature is a thread in a complex tapestry. In the Grand Tapestry of Life, the Atlantean Bogglefish is a piece of carpet lint that sort of stuck there. They must have Evolved, possibly from carpet lint."
And some fairies hold to the school of thought called Randomism, which sometimes answers "42," and sometimes quotes a human named Terry Pratchett. Nobody understands the Randomists, so they must be right.
------------------
Vinyaya's Study
-------------------
Vinyaya paced back and forth in her study like a caged wildcat. A sudden thought struck her like a thunderbolt chucked by a particularly annoyed Roman god.
There was more than one use for human ivory.
Fairies have the Gift. Humans have their own magic...
For some reason, she felt that Artemis Fowl was in danger.
-----------------
Fowl Manor
-----------------
Artemis Fowl the Second stood with his slim hands clasped behind his back, as Butler unlocked the back door. It had been an incredibly long night; dawn was poetically beginning to streak the horizon. Rosy-fingered and all that. Artemis was ready for a good, long nap.
During his brief hours underground, Artemis had Devised a Plan. He and Butler would return to Fowl Manor, where they would get some sleep. Meanwhile Root would gather a team to set up a time-stop. Once Artemis and Butler were rested enough for adventuring, they would drug the other inhabitants of Fowl Manor, set off for a prearranged shuttle, and wait to be collected by the LEP.
That way everyone got a short break to rearrange their tired minds and Devise Devious Plans. And, with the timestop, Artemis's parents wouldn't be asking any uncomfortable questions -- like, "Where's Artemis?" "What kind of weapons are those?" "Why is there a shuttle on our lawn?"
And, from our beloved Angeline Fowl: "Who are those rather dear little pointy-eared men scampering about on the lawn?" and "Arty dear, shouldn't you invite your little friends in for tea?"
Artemis shuddered to think. It would be *much* better to have that timestop.
Juliet, too, would have to go under. The less contact she had with the People, the better. Perhaps he would leave Mulch awake, to look after the fort. So many decisions to make.
Butler finally got the complicated door open and held it for Artemis. They were entering secretively through the kitchen, as it would cause less disturbance.
At least, that was the Plan. However, Fate has a weird little sense of humor.
Artemis almost stepped on his father's head.
"Helloooo, lil' Arty," Artemis the First (hereafter known as Mr. Fowl) greeted blithely from the linoleum. He was spreadeagled on the floor, drooling slightly as he gazed lovingly at the ceiling.
Artemis the Second stared in shock.
"And there's But.. Buh... Bull... Bullter... Big-Guy! Too!" Mulch managed to say. He was lying on the stovetop in much the same way, staring at the ceiling in unfocused awe.
"Dear... dear boy." Mr. Fowl pulled the stunned Artemis to the floor. "Look-- look-- LOOK at this. Just LOOK at it."
"Look at what, Father?" Artemis mumbled in shock.
"The sky... plaster... floor... big... top... thing." Mr. Fowl closed his eyes. "It's... it's too BIG for words."
"Ceiling?" Butler supplied, staring at the prone human and dwarf.
"Ceiling!" Mulch promptly burst into grimy tears.
Mr. Fowl opened his eyes, saw the ceiling, and started sobbing. "Oh Lord! The ceiling!"
"Father...?" Artemis whispered through dry lips. "What about the ceiling?"
"It... it's so..." Mr. Fowl grabbed Artemis's shoulder, pulling himself into a sitting position. He stared at Artemis with religious zeal. "It's so... beautiful."
Mulch sob probably picturing right now. Pure Bogglefish Shock. Priceless, really priceless. A Kodak moment. Bob would be proud.
"It's astounding," Mr. Fowl whimpered, "How UP it is."
He struggled to rise; a dazed Butler helped him up. "Look at it, son. Look... and marvel."
Three humans and a dwarf stared up at the ceiling. Mr. Fowl and Mulch looked at it like it was a choir of angels. Artemis and Butler looked at it in confusion, brains whimpering.
"Er, Mr. Fowl, would you like to go to bed?" Butler tried. He took his senior employer by the elbow and gently escorted him out.
As they walked out of the kitchen door, Mr. Fowl blinked at the hallway. His gaze traveled upwards.
"OH my GOD! The CEILING!"
Artemis decided that the minute he was turning eighteen, he was going to America or somewhere. It got so tiring, being the only sane one in the family.
===================
Scrimshaw's Office
===================
The Atlantean Ambassador made a phone call.
"Hello, dear girl. How have you been? How's your campaign? Good, good, brilliant. Julius giving you any trouble? Yes, he's found out what you're doing. No, I don't think he's connected it to you yet... yes, dear, this is a secure line. Yes, I'm sure."
There was a pause. Scrimshaw rubbed the bridge of his nose. "What banging, thumping and muffled cursing?" he sighed into the telephone.
From the corner of his office came the scrape of metal, something that sounded like someone hopping while tied to a chair, and the sound of someone saying "D'Arvit" through a bandanna.
"Oh. THAT banging, thumping and muffled cursing." Scrimshaw shot a dirty look into the corner. "That was a young elf who just got what she deserved."
"MMFF!" said the young elf, who didn't look like she enjoyed getting what she deserved. Caspian was tied to the chair in the classic hostage-in-a-bad-movie position. She started hopping towards the bathroom.
Scrimshaw continued talking on the phone. "She had some quite interesting information for us, you know. It could quite possibly turn the tide for your campaign... there's a tunnel. A secret tunnel into Haven, which starts out in some despicably random nightclub and ends up quite near your headquarters. Yes, quite near, I'm sure. Yes, it is useful, isn't it?"
There was a loud 'sploosh' from the bathroom. Scrimshaw's alligator loafers filled with water.
"I'm sorry dear, I have to go. I think the little brat's just destroyed the water main."
=====================
Artemis's Bedroom
=====================
Artemis loosened his tie, gazing out his window at the poetic dawn.
So much to think about. Plans to make.
He smoothed the silk tie and hung it up. In the past twenty-four hours he'd been punched, escaped a magma flare, and held Holly's hand. In the past week he'd staked out a bank and learned of an impending sibling.
Eurgh, no. Artemis tried not to think of the impending sibling. He was a criminal mastermind. He liked control.
He pulled off his shoes and lined them up by his bed. Carefully. Toes perfectly even. Peeled back the upper layer of his sheets, carefully climbed into bed. Stared at the ceiling. Tried to sleep. Couldn't stop thinking.
Should I leave Mulch awake?
It seems wrong, putting my family to sleep...
No one to guard them...
It's always me. It's always me looking after all the others. And they never notice.
I think too much. I need to relax.
I'll give myself a heart attack just like Root.
... I wonder if the fairies would save me?
=====================
Hospital Room
=====================
"DUDE! Little pawny dude! Like, dead! Aiee!"
Grub and Fallacy were sitting on Kitsune's bed, playing chess. They'd decided he needed Cheering Up while some of his more major bones mended. Kitsune was attempting to read. Obviously it wasn't working.
"So there I was," Grub started up again around a mouthful of potato chips, "Facing down an entire gang of goblins and trolls."
"Dude, your king can't, like, do that. Like."
"Yes he can, he's got a machine gun, see?"
"Oh. Dude." Fallacy pulled out a small toy truck and used it to run over half of Grub's pawns. "Like, half your army perished in, like, a horrible car accident."
"Aw, man. We didn't have insurance either." Grub reached for another handful of chips; almost all of them ended up in his mouth. He reached for his soda, which spilled all over the chessboard. Kitsune groaned and started beating himself on the head with his book.
Fallacy peered at the soda spill. "Dude, like, my bishop perished in, like, a terrible flash flood of soda. Dude."
Kitsune sat bolt upright and started screaming in Japanese. "Will you STOP saying 'LIKE?' GET a freaking DICTIONARY! I'm not even a NATIVE and I speak better than you do! Shut UP!"
The two small fairies stared at him like bunny rabbits.
"Dude," Grub squeaked in terror.
"GAH!" Kitsune screamed. This caused the bed to fall over.
Vice Corporal Fallacy lifted the mattress off his head and squinted at the ruins of the chessboard. "Dude, like, our entire armies were wiped out in, like, a massive ground-shaky thing."
From beneath a pile of crumpled rods, Kitsune rubbed his temples and whimpered. "Earthquake?"
"Dude."
================================================================
AUTHOR RANT
Caspian: MMMFFF!
Kitsune: Ha ha, she got herself tied to a chair! She got herself tied to a chair! Neener neener!
Takaban: Which means... it's up to us to do the author rant.
Bob: O.O ((I need a makeup crew!)) (bounces off in his water-filled fish-ball)
Takaban: (bored beyond belief) The author realizes that we original characters have played large parts in this chapter. She hopes that this will not prove troublesome. Also, Kitsune has taken Blue Yeti's Mary Sue Litmus Test, and is now officially slightly below a Borderline Gary Stu.
Kitsune: Oh yes, I'm SO developed, me.
Caspian: Mmph, mm fuffle fff! Mf-mail!
Takaban: Oh yes. Trixi AKA Bubbly Hooplah, please email Caspian, since she can't find you anywhere.
Kitsune: Same goes for Meade. What? (looks at clipboard) Mee-ah-dee. Meed. May-aid? Meedee-- Me-ade?
Takaban: (clutching hair) MEADE.
Kitsune: Ah yes, we can't find your email either. (Silly Fido!)
Takaban: (still bored out of his skull) Also, this is the first chapter to be heralded by the Ivory Files Mailing List... the ML is just a newsletter that you can get, telling you when we're updated. None of this messing about with Yahoo, because it gives Bob migraines. If you want to be informed of updates, email us.
Opal: You know, with Cas out of commission, we get her email account!
Caspian: NNH!
Opal: It's caspian_scholar@hotmail.com.
Caspian: NGG!
Takaban: Think we should ungag her?
Kitsune: Actually, I like her better this way...