Chapter 7: Effects of Trust

Disclaimer: As I said in every chapter, no, I do not own Artemis Fowl.

A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews! Though I have noticed some cannot remain ignored; such as your questions. "How long has this virus been around?" Here is my theory;

Viruses evolve. Old ones can become reborn, an example; the Hantavirus. When it occurred in the four corners, USA, it was transmitted by the rat, which was immune to the disease and was able to carry out its duty as a host. You see, when the antibodies counterattacked, they filled the lungs with liquid, therefore drowning you. It was unknown, until a scientist found the relationship between the Hanta, a past virus, thought to have been overcome.

Some viruses are able to adapt, a topic I haven't covered too well. Forgive me for the history lesson, though it seemed fascinating to me. Now on with the story!

BASEMENT: WAREHOUSE

Opal heaved a heartfelt sigh. The time was at hand, her triumph or sacrifice was to ensue, yet she never knew it to be so soon. Still, she felt a twinge of guilt like a traitor's conscience, haunting her sleep. How much had she lied to Artemis?

Not that it would have eased his mind, such a difficult topic to explain, that black magic was involved. No, he would have laughed his aching head off, maybe even comment that she was playing too many mud men video games. The truth hurt much more than white lies.

For at least a century, subtle rebellion brewed over dominance; dominance that the mud-humans hoarded greedily, the fairies fleeing to the underground for protection. Many refused their denial, tinkering with the idea of retaliation. This led to the art of black magic, the control of the elements. Those that believed it could be put to better use thought vainly, its influence reaching far more than expected. The lower abilities of black magic became the arcane arts. Opal had used a type of poison, known as bio for her scheme; working marvelously. Some changes were made, but that was due to Cudgeon, and his warped mind.

Whether or not it could be cured remained a question from generations past. Something Cudgeon didn't devote much time to, nor care about much. The art was forbidden long ago, and with due reason, resulting that had not been thought of lately. Opal always suspected the topic would intrigue Foaly, so special care was taken to have as little contact with him. Not that the cautions would prevent it; it did not seem to work that way when villains were concerned.

Hands clasped behind her back, feet tapping incessantly, her patience just began to wear thin. Beady eyes bore a hole in the monitor before her, a silent witness in the room above. C'mon Artemis. Don't let me down now.

GROUND LEVEL: WAREHOUSE

"Black magic?" Foaly repeated, uncertain.

"No, never mind. I just wanted to create suspense." Holly waved him off. But there has to be a reason-."

"No Holly, I think you're onto something here."

"Black magic, black magic. No, Foaly, I take it I'm not. That was from the Frond ages, only the original elves of olden can perform that. It's no longer a threat to us."

"How sadly mistaken you are, Holly. It doesn't need to be performed anymore; it can be artificial, as long as the original substance is there, not the original elf. Only mages can master the art. Where the heck did you get that?"

Holly shot him a peeved look (one that could only be seen by the scrunching and tenseness in the iris cams) and Foaly's response was a casual shrug. Root, unaware of the conflict rising between them, intervened with a confused "Huh?"

After a brief pause of silence, Holly's gaze shifted uneasily to Artemis. "We really should get him out of here."

"He can't be allowed to infect others." Foaly replied sternly.

"So he's going to rot in here, is that it?"

"Not much of a choice..."

"How can you say that? This is Artemis were talking about here."

"This is getting us nowhere."

"You're the genius."

Foaly shook his head in disbelief. "Listen to common sense! He cannot leave!"

"Aren't you forgetting us?"

"Isn't that just cheesy!"

Holly felt a sudden urge to hurl the earpiece into the far side of the wall. Centaurs can be so touchy when their stressed. Then again, so is she. "Foaly, we need your help, badly. Please."

Irritably, Foaly heaved a deep breath, and set himself to rapid typing. "After watching a few horror movies when I was a colt-."

"Foaly!" Holly shouted.

"I'm getting to it. Zombies became an obsession of mine. The true history behind it though, which I found out later, was that they were actually dead bodies infused with massive amounts of white magic. That's part of the reason why they emerge from the ground."

"Creepy." Root said.

"Tell me about it."

"Foaly." Holly warned again.

"Sorry. Anyways, since black magic is the rival of white magic, that's all you can use."

Black magic? White magic? So fairy's have white magic? The virus then is black magic. Or partially. What a second...

"You? You mean me? You mean me and me alone?"

"I didn't think you wouldn't be up to it, Holly."

"I am! But, um, Chix! Don't you think he likes horror movies and, err, zombies?" Chix froze rigid in his stance.

"Holly, if this fails, the body would need to be disposed immediately, I mean like during the procedure."

"Heal him and hold his circulation off mean whilst?" (Holly meant kill and heal at the same time)

"Err, in not so laymen terms, but-"

"Are you insane?"

"A little, but not in these matters. Will you help him or not?"

Foaly wanted to her to help him. Certainly. Foaly wanted her to strangle Artemis's throat. Not so certain. She saw the truth behind it, though she'd rather ignore it. But to have such massive amounts of energy, she needed lightning. Or an acorn. She needed to go to the above world.

Everyone held their breath as she exhaled hers. "Do I have clearance for flight?"

Foaly's face lit in a triumphant grin. "Good luck Holly."

"Yeah, yeah."

With that ending climax, she dragged Artemis to the door, shivering at how little he weighed. Her wings gradually humming, the mechanism became airborne. Root cast Foaly a curious glance. "You're really insane?"

Foaly widened his grin, slightly sly now. "No, not really."