AN: Sorry this took so long. I've been busy, this huge dance competition is coming up, so I've been going nuts lately. Yeah, I dance. Wanna make something out of it, pal? Okay, calming pills. Kel's been at her cottage a lot, so there's limited time for joint editing, so this might not be as great as it should be.

FlyingPurplePig: Very sorry about the tail thing, I know nothing about horses. I promise that in the future, I'll do some research. Or ask Kel, she seems to know everything.

Only me: Oh, she's gonna hit him, alright. She's gonna hit him good…

"Oh, it's sparking now! Nothing's happening, though. It's not giving off any heat, either. It's kind multicoloured now… Hey, it kind of looks like the Northern Lights, don't it? Look, how it's getting all wavy."

Artemis sighed, not bothering to correct the girl's multiple grammar mistakes. But he did have to admit, it did look a bit like Aurora Borealis.

"It's making a weird sound," Kim said, her brow furrowing. "Kinda like… Like a mandolin with the strings all loose."

"I don't hear a thing," Butler frowned. "Master Artemis?"

The boy shook his head. "Nothing. Captain? Commander?"

"I have no idea what a mandolin is, but I hear something," Holly replied. "A sort of dull plunking."

"It does sound like some loose string on something," Root agreed. "Only those of us who can touch the Maple Stone can hear it. This just keeps getting weirder and weirder."

"In any case, it just stopped," Kim shrugged, tossing the small stone up in the air and catching it. "Wonder what makes this thing go? Maybe it's a certain word. Or a spell or something. You guys are magic, what do you know?"

"Fairy magic is not like that of fabled witches," the commander said, as calmly as he could, although his face was beginning to turn red. "It is raw and natural, and not hindered by all that spell and wand mumbo-jumbo. There are warlocks who use wands, but they are, in my opinion, idiots."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you or anything," she said, actually sounding genuine. "I guess comparing you guys to folklore is kind of like comparing the Prime Minister to Mister Dressup. For one thing, Mister Dressup's way smarter than the PM. Even though he's dead, may he rest in peace…"

"Maybe it's controlled by thought," suggested Holly, before Kim could get going. "Mental commands."

"Nah, if that worked, little Arty would have been hit by lightening back in Fowl Manor," Holmes sighed.

"Don't I wish," snorted Root. "That would solve at least half of our problems, and we can shove you off of a cliff pretty easily. Then we'd be on the right track."

"Did you ever stop to think that she might be our ticket home?" the female elf scowled. "After all, if no one got anything out of it but her, what makes you think we can get that stone to bring us home?"

"Now listen here, Short…"

Kim tuned out of the faeries argument, and turned her attention to the stone in her hand. It was red, her lucky colour. The colour her pegs had been during her very first Crib game, and the colour of them for many games to follow. She could still picture one such game in her mind…

"… Fifteen six, seven eight nine, ten eleven twelve, pair is thirteen, and a right Jack is fourteen. I win. Again."

The man across the table from her threw down his cards. "I can't believe this! I just got skunked by a seven-year-old girl!"

"Again," Kim reminded him, shuffling the deck of cards in her small hands. "Care for another game? Or did I beat you too bad this time?"

"You are a demon child," he warned, pointing a finger at her.

"Thank you," she grinned. "Now, are we going to play or not?"

He sighed. "Fine. And I'll beat you this time, you little bugger. Cut for deal?"

"As always," Kim replied, setting the deck down and lifting the top half off. "Five."

He picked up the card on the top of the halved cards. "Dammit, an eight. You deal, half-pint."

"With pleasure," she smiled innocently, shuffling again before doling out twelve cards between them. She set the deck down, and fanned her hand out in front of her. She gave a low whistle.

The man looked up form his own hand. "You're just trying to psyche me out."

She shrugged, selecting two cards from the six and placing them on the table. "Who knows? Maybe I've been psyching you out for the last three games."

He growled something and threw down two cards. "Little brat."

Kim just smiled and lay down a card. "One."

"Oh, come on! Who opens with a one?" he complained, flicking down a King. "Eleven."

"Me, obviously," she remarked, revealing a four. "Fifteen for two."

Kim frowned, banging the stone against the trunk of a tree, not really expecting it to do anything. Instead of simply putting yet another dent in it, the act of violence did something else. It made another flash.

Foaly nearly kicked his desk out of frustration. The screen from Fowl Manor hadn't cleared yet, Holly and Root weren't responding through their helmet communication systems, and he couldn't pick up their trackers.

There was one thing left, of course. Holly's new tracker, the one she had kicked up the fit over. His fingers flew over the keyboard, bringing up the needed screen. And what he saw made his eyes widen considerably.

The signal was gone. It wasn't that it wasn't picking up, it was just plain gone. Like it didn't exist. Even if Holly had sliced her arm, gotten it out, and bashed the hell out of it with a sledgehammer, it would still be giving of a signal. A weak signal, but one he could pick up. But it was gone. Completely and utterly gone.

Foaly let out a long breath, trying desperately not to make it sound more horse-like than it already was. He was in so much trouble. He had lost the LEPrecon commander, one of the best officers on the squad, and an innocent human, and a minor at that. There was, of course, Artemis and the Butlers. But no one would really care about them. Hell, they might even give him a medal for losing them. But Julius and Holly, and even the weird Canadian kid… If the Human Rights groups got a hold on this one, he wouldn't just catch heat, he'd be pitched head-first into the fire.

The centaur rested one hand on the desk, rubbing the bridge of his nose with the other. Whey did things always have to happen to him? It seemed to him like ever since he had first put his hooves to grass, the world had been out to get him. Melodramatic, sure, but that was just his humble opinion.

A sensation overtook him in an instant. It started near his right shoulder, and spread quickly over his body from the tips of his pointed ears to the pads under his hooves. It wasn't pain, but it wasn't not pain, either. It was just… It just… was. He felt a jerk, and then he lost consciousness.

"Hey, I'm back!" Juliet Butler announcing, steeping into Fowl Manor. "Sorry I was so long, the car ran out of gas and I had to walk to service station, and… Artemis? Bro? Faerie people? Weird kid?"

She stepped into the living room. It was empty. What looked like some twisted science fair project designed to bring a dead hamster back to life was spread out on the oak coffee table, and the faeries' helmets and wing sets were in the corner.

"Is anybody here?" Juliet hollered, uneasiness growing in her chest. "If this is one of your stupid mind games, Artemis, I'm going to find you and I'm going to piledrive you straight clear through to your graduation day! Like you don't already have sixty thousand diplomas already, but…"

The girl took a deep breath. Alright, remember, the phrase she had always put her faith in. WWBD. What Would Butler Do? He'd probably know what was going on, for starters.

A sensation swept over her, effulging her body all at once, from her conditioned hair straight down to her sparkled, painted toenails. She barely had time for a gulp of air before she was dragged under.

Kim had felt better. She had also felt worse, but that wasn't really one her mind. Her back hurt, her head hurt, her arm was at an angle that wasn't enough to break it but was enough to hurt like hell, and she had I Ran by Bowling For Soup stuck in her head for some odd reason.

She didn't know where she was initially. At first, she thought that maybe she had fallen asleep on the couch during the Coke and anime marathon that made up her Friday nights. That would explain I Ran, which was the Knights of the Zodiac theme song for all of you freaks out there who don't watch anime.

Then, Kim heard a loud noise, some kind of a cross between a caw and a screech. She sat up, and opened her eyes, and nearly fainted.

"Oh Great Spirit," she whispered, using the name of the deity her Grandmère prayed to. "Oh Almighty and Merciful Great Spirit."

Standing in front of her was a real, live, huge hippogriff.

Foaly could here voices.

"D'you think he's dead?" whispered a female voice.

"I don't know," admitted a male one. "I really don't know which one to root for."

"Artemis, that's terrible! Sure, he's annoying, but I don't want him dead!"

"I don't think he's dead, Juliet. Just… poke him with a stick and see if he moves."

"What's this? The great Artemis Fowl is suggesting the stick poking test? What's the world coming to?"

"Look, would you just…"

"I'm alive," Foaly announced, opening his eyes slowly. "Please don't poke me with a stick. And could someone give me a hand up?"

Juliet offered her arm, and yank up, nearly sending him flying.

Once he had gotten both his hooves and his stomach settled, he took a deep breath and looked around. "Where exactly are we? It looks like a forest in the Canadian Maritimes, judging by the flora and fauna."

"Tell me, Foaly," Artemis said slowly, looking at him with mild interest. "Do you know anything about the astronomic positioning in the Canadian Maritimes area?"

"Not really. Do you?"

"No. But a five-year-old mentally retarded child could tell you that this isn't the Canadian Maritimes, just by looking up."

"How?"

"Look up."

He looked up. He saw the moon-like things, and the coloured stars. "Ah. I guess this isn't the Canadian Maritimes then."

"What was your first clue?" Juliet said sarcastically.

"Well, I'm pretty sure it was the three glowing orbs in the sky that first tipped me off…"

She had to admit, the thing was beautiful. She, for a quick glance determined it was a she, had light coloured hindquarters with a long, platinum blonde tail. Her feathers were a sort of golden tawny, and were arranged over her bird parts perfectly. Her beak and talons with a goldish colour, and they gleamed in the light of moon-like orbs overhead.

Kim slowly and shakily climbed to her feet, keeping a close eye on the mythical beast in front of her. It was glaring back at her with curious, yet fierce, orange eyes.

Okay, she thought to herself. This could be a good thing. After all, you need transportation. Harry Potter rode one of these things just fine, why are you any different? You know the books by heart, you know what to do. But what if this isn't a J.K. Rowling hippogriff? What if this is a mythical, infuriated, blood-thirsty hippogriff?

The girl decided to take her chances. She slipped the Maple Stone into her pocket, and took a few steps forward. The beast allowed it. She bowed deeply, careful not to leave her neck more exposed then it had to be. Her best friend Dana, a martial arts nut who was always trying to drill defence techniques into her head, would have been proud.

The hippogriff studied her for a moment, before slowly dropping to its scaly knees in a bow. It rose when the girl did.

Kim slowly walked up to it, gently stroking its beak. The monster gave a sort of cackling nose. Like the whinny of a horse and the caw of an eagle spliced together. Then again, that was technically what the animal was.

"Good girl," she said softly, using the tone of voice she used with her dog. "You're a pretty girl, aren't you? You've got nice glossy feathers and shiny talons that could rip me apart in seconds, don't you?"

It gave a caw of approval.

The Canadian took a deep breath, well aware that it could be her last. She put her sneakered foot on the joint of the animal's folded wing, and slung herself on, landing as gently as she could. The hippogriff ruffled its head a bit, but seemed to have no objections.

There was, of course, the problem of where to hang on. In the book, Harry had grabbed at the feathers. But it said they had been oily, and she didn't want to risk yanking any out. She sat on the hippogriff for half a minute before an idea struck.

She took off the black hooded sweatshirt she had been wearing, revealing a red Roots t-shirt under it. It was one of her favourite sweatshirts, it had her hockey team's logo and name, the East Hants Penguins, printed on one arm, and her last name and number, 13, across the other one. She had discovered long ago that a hooded sweatshirt was extremely useful for many things, but she had never imagined she'd use one as a bridle for a hippogriff.

Kim held onto one arm of it and threw the other one across the beast's neck, catching it on the other side. The body part of it was now settled on the hippogriff's neck/chest area. She got a good grip on the arms, and gave a small grin.

"Fly!" she commanded. "Fly!"

The animal just craned its neck back to give her an odd look.

"Come on!" she encouraged. "Fly like the wind!"

Another odd look.

"Please?" Kim offered. Being Canadian, she had been raised to believe a little politeness sometimes went a long way. She rarely used this philosophy, but she figured it couldn't hurt to try.

In any case, the animal spread its wings, took a running start, and launched itself into the air with its equestrian hind legs.

All Kim had time to holler was "Great Spirit!"

At this point, she seriously hoped her Grandmère knew what she was talking about when it came to gods. If not, not only was she going to die, she was going to Hell for false worship. Kim could almost hear Katie turning in her grave. If she had been dead, anyway.