A/N: Yes, it's been forever, but the story is not dead. This chapter only got written on account of a couple of very dull classes. Any problems with spacing are entirely the fault of whatever bloody program fanfiction uses. The next chapter, when I get around to writing it, will be a flashback to Holly's confrontation with Artemis. It's for that chapter that I wrote the story in the first place. I haven't decided quite how morbid/disturbing I'm going to make it. But I shall up the rating if it's too much of either. What is the rating right now, anyway? Beh, who cares. Notice the spiffy separator line below? I figured out how to make it. Are you proud of me?


When a search of the main tunnels proved unsuccessful, Holly had been forced to go down one of more demolished ones, and to her surprise, the first room she came to was completely intact. Its gleaming hardwood floors were evidence that it had been the office of a wealthy fairy indeed – wood was rare in the underground. Shelves filled with books and their technological counterparts lined the walls, and there were a couple of plush armchairs in front of a large plasma screen which was built into one wall.

Holly was standing in front of the screen now – staring at it, though it was not even turned on. She clutched the disk in its case tightly in one fist. Now that it were finally possible, she found herself scared to death to see what was on it. Taking several deep breaths, she closed her eyes for a moment; composing herself. When she opened them, she turned quickly on her heel and slid the disk into the computer. Then she dropped down into one of the chairs and shakily voiced a command to the computer: "Open."

The screen came to life: two video files appeared, labeled simply, "age 13" and "interview." The titles couldn't exactly be thought of as sinister, but she felt her heart slam painfully against her ribcage anyway. Suddenly, the strangeness of having found Argon in the particular tunnel she did struck her – it was a danger zone – no one who had had any means of escape would have been down there since at least a week-and-a-half ago. And Argon was certainly not one to risk his neck unnecessarily. What was so important that he came back down here? Perhaps it was for this disk.

Holly's chest was really hurting now – she had to wait until the spasms passed before she could mouth the next command: "Play first file."

It played. And she instantly recognized the picture which appeared – it was Artemis' study in Fowl Manor, and it appeared to be empty. Holly's eyebrows knitted in confusion. Why was Artemis' house being filmed? She had been aware of no LEP orders for this kind of monitoring. But she didn't have time to ponder the riddle more thoroughly – because suddenly the room wasn't empty anymore. Artemis had walked in. "Strode" would be the more opportune word. Wherever Artemis went his presence commanded attention, even if he wasn't aware that there was anyone to be affected by it. Holly froze, her eyes fixed on his face as he made his way across the study to his desk, on which sat his laptop. As he sat down, Holly gasped – the angle of the camera suddenly switched and she was looking at him head on. This was no incidental filming, then. Could Root have given orders to spy on Artemis without telling her?

Artemis was wearing a particularly awful expression as he typed away at the laptop. Even though, once more, he was only a child, he was somehow frightening, even when just he was just sitting at a computer. Holly shivered in spite of herself; after what she'd been through, she'd thought there was nothing which could frighten her anymore, but she'd been wrong. The camera switched angles again and zoomed in – she could actually see the screen, could even see the time in the lower right-hand corner of the laptop's monitor: 7:13 PM. Holly flinched – she could see what he was doing as well, and it definitely wasn't legal. She was pretty sure the population of Norway must have woken up much poorer the next morning.

Whatever the details of the illegal activity he was involved in, he wasn't long at it. Five minutes later, he closed the laptop and spun around slowly in his chair to face the camera. The blue-grey light of an Irish dusk fell on his face. He must have been looking out the window, but he was not thinking about the scenery. His eyes had a distant look in them and were glowing in an almost preternatural way, and his mouth wore a smirk of undeniable cunning. Holly suddenly found that she wasn't breathing – and she didn't bother to try until he finally looked away. He began to absentmindedly loosen his tie and unbutton his crisp white dress shirt. Halfway down his hand froze where it was and any remnants of arrogance left his face as he slowly lifted out something hanging from a silver chain around his neck. He held it up and stared at it for a few moments, unmoving. She saw him gulp, and his eyes looked suddenly tired and saddened. He let the gold coin fall back on his chest but kept his hand clasped tightly round it, his eyes fixed on the floor. Finally, the phone in his jacket pocket buzzed loudly, jolting him out of his ruminations. He pulled out the phone, glancing at the name displayed on its screen. He let it ring once more, as if undecided, then stood up, quickly slipping the medallion back under his shirt. He flipped the phone open.

The scene ended abruptly and was replaced with another, this time of Artemis' bedroom. So it wasn't just his study that had been monitored. The second scene was much the same, and Holly was worried that if she watched them all, she might run out of time and never see the second file, which she felt sure was the more important one. So she closed that file and opened the next.

Instantly, the screen went black. When the picture came back, Holly could sense the change in tone immediately. She was looking at a dimly lit room. A figure, only a deeper shadow in the darkness, sat slumped in an armchair, completely still. Then the lights brightened, and Holly realized with a sense of shock that the room she was looking at on the screen was the very room she herself was in, and the chair the black figure sat in was the same chair she was sitting in at that moment. Even with his head buried in his chest, Holly could see the person in the chair was not a fairy – it was a human. A human – in the underground. She didn't think that had ever happened other than once or twice when it had been imperative that Artemis and Butler be brought to Haven. Worse, Holly had the sinking feeling that she knew this human. The hair was mussed up and covered the human's forehead and eyes, but it was as deeply black as Artemis', while the whiteness of his face and hands stood out harshly against his black clothes and the black cloth of the armchair. It had to be him. Who else could it be?

Then Holly heard a shuffling noise and an elf appeared on the screen and moved to stand in front of the human, blocking him from view for a moment. He sat down opposite him. Holly waited tensely for what seemed like a whole minute, and still the fairy and Artemis remained as still as if the playback had been halted. She was just about to check if this were the case when a voice she recognized began to speak.

"Artemis," said Professor Argon. "Open your eyes."

The black head lifted itself and the body straightened itself out; the eyes were the last to respond to the instructions. It was as if Artemis were trying to defy Argon even while under the mesmer – and he clearly was under the mesmer. At last the lashes parted and Holly caught a glimpse between them of a startling blue that she had never expected to see again – yet here he was, still living, if only as a projection on a plasma screen. Holly realized after they began to pulse that her fingers had been gripping the arms of her chair like pincers. She released them with difficulty. But what was that psychiatrist doing with Artemis? She could see in a pinch that this interview had not taken place during the time of the Goblin Rebellion when Artemis had been in Haven – he looked at least eighteen.

"All right," spoke Argon again. "Now Artemis, I'm going to ask you a few questions, and you're going to answer them fully and honestly. Do you understand?"

"You're not even speaking in gnommish, Dr. Argon," said Artemis, in the flat tones of the mesmerized. "And even if you were, I would understand."

Argon frowned. "Just answer the question, mud boy."

Artemis sighed, but in his mesmerized state he could only hold a look of annoyance for a few seconds before it gave way to the usual dreamy expression. "I understand."

"Good." Argon tapped his foot nervously for a few seconds, then blurted out, "First question – what are your bank account numbers and passwords?"

Artemis seemed to come to himself slightly, as if he'd discovered that the flower he'd been admiring had suddenly snapped at him. "What do you want to know that for?"

"That's not your concern. You want to tell me. It's in your best interests. Now remember, you said you'd answer my questions. So what are the numbers and passwords?" Argon was adding more layers to the mesmer in his voice, but still Artemis hesitated. Holly felt sorry for him – he was clearly distressed and she knew that he would never jeopardize the safety of his fortune if he had any choice at all. But what could Argon want with Artemis' bank accounts? She couldn't believe he'd kidnapped Artemis simply to get his money – that didn't seem like Argon's way. Looking at Artemis in such inner turmoil, she forgot where she was for a minute, forgot everything, and just wanted desperately to laugh at him. He looked so ridiculously unhappy that she had the overwhelming desire to hug him tightly and change the worried frown into the look of indignant surprise which would certainly have followed. That is, until she remembered where she was – and where Artemis was – and all feeling of humour left her abruptly.

Artemis was mumbling a last attempt at refusal. "I don't…I don't want…"

Argon deepened the spell still further. "Tell me, Artemis. My time is valuable."

"So are my bank accounts," grumbled Artemis, sighing. "Swiss National Bank, number 103306402, password 42A639BT0, Bank of Ireland…" he listed them off. While he spoke, Argon recorded the information in his pocket organizer. There was a long pause during which he did something with the organizer, while Artemis stared unhappily at the air in front of him. Holly wondered what the psychiatrist could be doing. Finally, Argon snapped the lid of the organizer shut.

"Well done, Artemis. I checked, and those are indeed your accounts. I must say, I had no idea you had quite so much money. But there's no time to enquire as to where you obtained it, even if I cared. Let's get on to more important matters."

"You're not going to take the money?" asked Artemis, brightening slightly.

"No, of course not. What would I want with your mud man money? I simply had to be certain that you had not somehow evaded the mesmer yet again.

"Ah," said Artemis. He understood.

"Question number two, then. We're pressed for time. Why do you choose to be a criminal?"

"I want to be rich."

"You can't get rich other ways? Ways that don't involve the fairy people? Legal ways?"

"Illegal is quicker."

"Very well. Why do you want to be rich?"

There was a pause. "Money is power," said Artemis, finally.

"And why do you want power?"

Another brief silence. "I don't know."

"You must know. What do you get out of being powerful? Do you want to control the world? Are you a sadist? Do you enjoy watching people suffer?"

"No!" scoffed Artemis. "I want – I want…to be respected, even if it's only out of fear. And I seem to naturally incite fear in people, so it's easier just to use it to my advantage."

"But why do you need external validation? Why is it so important for you to be recognized and venerated?"

Artemis dropped his gaze, and stared at his perfectly polished black leather shoes. When he finally answered, his voice was quiet and grave. "Do you realize how many people live their whole lives in obscurity, die, and are immediately forgotten? Almost everybody. Most people don't even know their great-grandmother's first name. People try to live on through their children, but they're fooling themselves. Your children aren't you." He hesitated a moment before continuing. "I don't want to be forgotten. I don't want to be the dust used to grow food for the living." Artemis' voice was more serious than Holly had ever heard it. She squeezed her eyes shut and was surprised to feel the warmth of a tear sliding down her cheek. Even Argon seemed affected by the child-like honesty and passion of the mesmerized human boy.

"But you're fast on your way to becoming one of the most notorious criminals of all time. Why not do something to be remembered in a good way?"

"Good people are almost never powerful. And they rarely get noticed until after they're dead, when they aren't around to care. Besides, why would I want to spend my life making the world better when I won't be around to enjoy the results?"

Holly cringed. Artemis really had been selfish. Argon had probably been thinking the same thing. His voice was full of grim satisfaction, as if this was what he had expected to hear all along.

"How far would you be willing to go to achieve this fame and prestige you desire?"

Artemis looked uncomfortable and squirmed in his seat. He didn't answer.

"Artemis." More layers to the mesmer. "Answer the question."

"I can't say at this point – I'll only know when the time comes."

When Argon spoke next, Holly felt as if the air in the room has suddenly become deathly cold. "Would the lives of the fairies be acceptable sacrifices?"

Holly froze, willing Artemis to say they wouldn't be.

Artemis took a deep breath. "I don't know. Some fairies, maybe, just like some humans might have to be sacrificed. I wouldn't do it if there were any alternative."

"But if there weren't an alternative?"

"Then fairies would probably be sacrificed, yes."

Holly's shoulders slumped and more tears slipped silently down her cheeks as she gazed reproachfully at Artemis' face. "Oh, Artemis…" she whispered sadly.

Then Argon asked a question which took her by surprise. "What about your fairy friend, Holly Short? I understand you two are fairly close. Would you sacrifice her?"

On the screen, Holly saw Artemis jerk slightly, as if he'd been slapped. He lifted his head and stared at Argon as if seeing him for the first time.