Alrighty! Another update, what, two months after Christmas? I don't know about you, but I believe that Arty can be savored all year around! So, after another chapter so lovingly written, I bring to you another drama-lific chapter of Breaking Christmas!
Thank you everyone, for putting up with me and my prolonged updates. : D
Anywho, enjoy!
Breaking Christmas
Chapter 4 --- Dead Lights
One Day Later
Darren and Duke sat on the comfy couch in the living room of the Fowl Manor, watching Artemis pace back and forth between the coffee table and the huge evergreen in the corner. There was barely room for an angel on top of the Christmas tree, but Mrs. Fowl had made it work. Oh how she had made it work! With the beautiful silvers and golds surrounding, with great ornaments and shiny, twinkling lights. At the moment, Juliet was humming while she flung the light onto the tree decoratively. One could tell she had a natural knack for decorating like that. The lights seemed to fall into place as she hummed, but Artemis hardly noticed this, he didn't even notice her leave. In fact, he scarcely noticed anything at the moment. Nothing could shake him from his utterly deep and impassive thoughts.
Well, almost nothing.
"Arty!" Mrs. Fowl called, prancing into the room in an extravagant evening dress with fur at the collar and ivory at the cuffs. She looked extraordinary in it. Simply marvelous. "There's a letter here for you," she handed him the letter and spun around proudly, "Do you like it honey?"
Artemis briefly grazed his Mother's dress and attained the ornamental smile once more. "It is beautiful, Mother."
"I'm glad you agree! It's for the ball we're having. You know that ball we used to always have during Christmas? I'm doing it again! It's wonderful!" She noticed the two boys staring profligately and gasped, "Oh! Arty! I didn't know you had friends! How embarrassed I am! Oh well, welcome. Make yourselves at home."
"Yes ma'am," both boys replied in chorus.
Mrs. Fowl patted the two boys on the heads and practically skipped out of the room; she would have actually skipped if she had not been wearing four inch stilettos. Wonderful lady --- a little too energetic at times, but a wonderful Mother for any genius, for he'd have to agree. Angelina Fowl was amazing.
Artemis flipped the letter over and began to open it, and insipidly wondered who it was from.
Holly hovered near the angel, outside the window beside it, and watched Mrs. Fowl prance about in her gown. It was very beautiful --- the dress she meant. The woman could afford a face lift sometime soon, but she looked beaming in the dress and Holly was rather happy for her. Holly then turned back to Artemis and proceeded to watched him open the letter.
Foaly came into her ear loudly as if in a sudden rush, "Don't let him open that."
Holly jumped from fright and squeaked, "Why?"
"It's from Spiro. I was looking back over the films a moment ago --- and don't let him open that letter! Anything from Spiro is bad."
"How did he get out of jail?"
"Broke out. How, no one knows. But I have a feeling Opal is behind it --- but GET THAT LETTER!"
Holly promptly started for Artemis and then stopped suddenly with a gasp as two beams shot forth from the envelope into Artemis's eyes like arrows. "D'Arvit. Too late."
---
Artemis opened the letter blandly. He wondered mildly who it was from, but it was probably from the school about the next courses he would take. Blah, Blah. Nothing more. In fact, he could have opened it later if he wanted. Flipping the back open, he suddenly gasped. There was a silver ---
It were as if a million spears suddenly impaled him when blue lasers shot forth through the contraption and froze him to the spot. Glued him to the ground. His whole body shut down; breath halted and muscles stiffened. It were as if he was impaled by the memories themselves.
Flashes. So many flashes. Images. Were they real? The Book. The People. Trolls. Butler. Artic. Mafia. Opal . . . Opal who? Haven. Root. Centaur . . . Foaly? Underground. Shuttles. Dead. Spiro --- Jon Spiro. C-Cube. H-Holly . . . Holly Sh --- Short!
Artemis wanted to scream in pain. It hurt --- it throb like hammers in his skull, smashing anything it could come into contact with. The images filed into other memories, jamming together like uneven puzzle pieces. It destroyed what fragility he had in his mind as the thoughts and visions brought the boy's psyche into breakdown. Overload.
Dropping the letter, he stumbled backwards with his hands clutched to his agonizing, throbbing head. Tears brimmed at the corner of his eyes and flowed unevenly. In the deafening throb of the pain, he didn't notice himself screaming, cowering in his own ache, nor Darren calling wildly for Mrs. Fowl, or Duke trying to pin the genius down on the couch. Instead, Duke was knocked in the nose by a flailing elbow and sent sprawling to the couch himself. Artemis didn't hear, feel, or see any of this, until a single image floated through his chaotic mind.
"H-Holly," he croaked dryly. Darren's ears perked at this, then he flew towards the double doors, begged Mrs. Fowl for forgiveness, and slammed the doors in her face, promptly locking them. Artemis again called, "H-Holly!" A fairy could not penetrate into a house unless the owner welcomed them. It was in the Book. "Holly Short!"
Darren's attention darted up to the window as an elf flew through the shattering glass to Fowl. His eyes widened. Holly Short. How did she get here?
Holly zipped to Artemis and put two hands to his forehead. She felt the static within her build and the magic flow to her fingers. It had been a long while since she had felt this rush, this thrill she could only find around Artemis Fowl. And as she uttered the magic under her breath, she knew this was the beginning of another adventure. That familiar static crackled over her skin. "Sort."
Darren suddenly ducked under her and pressed a hand against Artemis's chest, the familiar magic welding inside himself as well. "You forgot another thing Holly! Breathe!"
Two jolts erupted through Artemis Fowl at once. A dangerous combination that sent him flying backwards into the fifteen foot pine, and land with a low thud on the ground. A strand of lights flopped from the limbs and attempted to take out the unconscious boy below. Luckily they were the strand Butler tried to fix. Note tried. Ornaments cracked and shattered beside him, porcelain keepsakes broke, and the angel, perched at the top, toppled to its doom. All missed Artemis, except one; the glass angel. Its shards dug into his hand, a puddle of blood formed underneath.
Holly glared down to Darren and puffed out her cheeks, "I could have done that."
"Yeah, when he turned blue."
Duke had by now ripped open the letter and began to read it. A quirky smile wound its way onto his face. "I think I know where Julia is."
"Where?" Darren asked.
The black-haired boy flipped over the letter with a raised eyebrow. The return address was plastered on the side. Careless --- unless it was on purpose. "Right here. The Lighthouse Hotel in Wexford."
"Then let's wake Fowl up and head there," Darren said with a deep sigh, then turned to the Captain, "Say, why are you here in the first place? The fabled Captain Holly Short of the LEPrecon who fought against and with Fowl in three special occasions, always managing to somehow cost the whole of the LEP a lot of money, especially my Uncle."
Holly blinked, "Your . . . Uncle?"
"Step-Uncle really," Darren admitted. "You know him as Commander."
Holly's eyes were the size of saucer plates.
"Yep, that's right. Julius Root is my Step-Uncle."
----
Angelina Fowl frowned as the unruly young man slammed her own beautifully crafted mahogany doors in her face. A pout formed on her tender lips as she turned to leave. Teens will be teens, she had to remind herself while she pranced into the kitchen.
Butler sat at the kitchen table, drinking a steaming cup of green tea. An open book of Guns Today in front of him. He looked up to Angelina and bowed his head. "You look lovely in that dress, Mrs. Fowl."
Mrs. Fowl blushed. "Why, thank you Butler. Isn't it?" But her smile couldn't mask her worry. "I think something is wrong with Arty."
"So that's the noise," the muscular man mused softly. "Don't worry about it Miss," he told her. "Nothing will happen to Artemis without me knowing."
"I hope so," the elegant woman replied, putting a finger to her chin. "But I can't help but think that he's not telling me something. Do you think?" She sat down beside Artemis's bodyguard and grasped his meaty arm tightly. "Do you know anything that I don't?"
Butler shook his head gently, not really ready to say what he was about to. "No, and even if I did, Mrs. Fowl, it's up to you to find out what you believe is bothering Artemis. He is, if I dare say, you're son." With that, he went back to reading about the new Magnum and something about hand-held lasers. Boy, how old that news was.
As he reached for his cup of tea again, he paused. Angelina left the room in a slouch, clicking up the stairs in her expensive heels. That didn't bother him as much as what he just thought.
Hand-held laser guns old news? How? He'd never used one --- in fact, he'd never even seen one . . . or had he? A low rumble came from his chest, "Artemis . . ."
Standing, he folded up his magazine, emptied his cup of tea, and retreated to his small room in the Fowl Manner where he pulled up the camera screen from the living room, slipped on his headphones, and studied intently as he rewound and watched as a small creature came in, sparked something in his charge, and sent him flying into the Christmas tree . . .
---
Deception.
Darkness.
Death.
These are what the shadows foretold Artemis as he lay on the red couch unconscious. And of a fragile smile, an ornament broken but repaired by the loneliness each morning. Was it his? It must have been, who else could have such a life?
No one but him.
Being a genius? It has its perks. Being a wonderful son? No problem. Being a teen trying to find his place? Harder than anything ever before. Trying to fit in? Why would Artemis Fowl want to fit in?
To try and find himself within others, he prospected. All his life, he had realized he had been no more than a second Artemis Fowl. His father had accomplished everything he had --- well, almost everything. But the fairy expeditions weren't anything to be proud of. His Father was a Jack of All Trades. He was good at everything and here was little him, walking in the greater's shadow.
He was a fool to believe that he could have ever been more than his Father. Of course he loved his Father --- he loved him more than anything in the world, but trying to extend his own shadow greater than his father's was a difficult job to accomplish.
In Artemis's mind's eye, he was just a clone, a fake to his father's status. He would never earn respect. He would never earn anything of the sort.
A damp washcloth pressed upon his forehead and slowly he opened his eyes to meet Holly's face head-on. She was standing on his chest with a washrag. Cocking a hand to her hip, she snorted, "About time, Fowl."
The boy groaned and sat up, toppling Holly to his feet. To Holly, in the seven months since she'd seen him, he had grown about four inches --- or close to it. Growth spurt of course, and he also must have had an urge to let his hair grow a bit, for now it was a loose and shaggy black mop --- refined of course --- but still a mop. He squinted to her before regaining his focus and shook his head dizzily.
"Mm, what happened?" He asked rubbing the back of his head. It felt like a Christmas light had poked him there or something. With that same hand, he found it bandaged. Although he couldn't place it, a hollowness unrecognizable sat in the back of his mind.
"Well, you opened the letter and then a blue laser shot into your eyes and then you remembered what the Mind Wipe took away. Welcome back," Holly said shortly and stood at the edge of the couch.
"Yes yes, but then what?" There was also a lump at the back of his head and he winced when he found it. "Ow, what did you do?" The hollowness wasn't familiar by any standards. It was different. For the first time, he felt sluggish. So tired.
Darren cleared his throat to get attention from Artemis and to tell that he was still in the room, along with Duke. "That's what happens when two fairy's magic collide within one body. Boom."
"Ah," Artemis said lightly and stood when a wave of dizziness passed him. He found himself flopping back onto the couch, rubbing the bridge of his nose. One thought at a time echoed through the crevices. There were no whispers from hidden intelligences in his brain, which was strange, and when he tried to even put a little effort (a little effort on his part is like solving Einstein's EMC2, which is already solved anyway.) it caught his brain on fire and made it pound and throb and do other nasty things headaches did.
Then he realized the problem.
Holly looked worried. "What's wrong Fowl?"
Artemis stiffened considerably, traveling his eyes to anything he could calculate or understand. Nothing came to mind when he remembered that he used to know what current the Christmas lights lit with, how many electrons buzzed within the whole line of lights at once . . . how many cells were in a---
A startling pain darted through his skull. He had gone pale. "Oh God." Standing, he stumbled around the couch and into the foyer, where he ran up the steps, skipping two steps at a time, and raced into his computer room. When he sat down to reformat the computer, as he did every evening when he booted his PC up, he found that his fingers wouldn't move. His mind was blank.
Holly walked into the dark room and watched the simmering candles in the corner, then turned her eyes to Artemis. "What's wrong Arty?"
"I-I can't think," he responded numbly, staring at his twitching fingers.
"What do you mean you can't think?" Holly ventured. "Are you scared?" No, that couldn't possibly be it! Artemis Fowl was never scared! But he was shaking. And pale. "Artemis?"
The teen slowly turned his swivel chair around to stare at Holly, a friend. An ally. "I don't know," he finally whispered for the first time in his life. He had never said those words. They were absent in his vocabulary until today, until just a few minutes ago. "I can't think. I don't know anything."
Holly thought for a moment, then gasped. Could that blast have . . . "You mean you're not a genius anymore?" Artemis shook his head. "Are you sure?" Artemis nodded. Holly pursed her lips. "Then we have a problem."
Artemis again nodded, not knowing what else to say. All his life he had knowing everything, absorbing everything with the slightest of ease. But now, it was hard to process anything. Hard to understand the words that he spoke and once understood to a T. He actually had to think about it now. He had to think of what to say when he said it and to whom. Most importantly, he had to re-understand everything again at a teen level. That was scary.
Darren came up behind Holly with his arms folded over his chest. He was talking to Duke until they entered the room, then both fell silent. The acclaimed genius was shaking like a leaf in an autumn breeze.
The red-head frowned and shushed his friend from snickering. "Yo Fowl, what's wrong?"
"The blast locked his brains," Holly replied.
"What?" Duke asked.
Darren understood perfectly. "She means that our friend here isn't a genius anymore, just a regular teen with a regular mind. The blast shook the smarts out of him."
"More like locked them," Holly replied, which was really a reply from Foaly, who was equally surprised and perplexed. "Fowl, can you talk?"
"Of course I can!" Artemis spat, disgusted and frightfully confused. "I'm not as dumb as an ape if that is what you mean!"
"Can you walk?" Holly asked, equally rhetorical.
"Yes. How else could I have come up here?" Artemis gripped the armrests stressfully. He was trying to calm himself down, and it was actually working. No use in getting into a fuss about this. It probably wasn't permanent. It would wear off soon --- hopefully. He was fine. Great.
Completely and utterly scared in a world he once understood right down to the atoms beneath his feet.
"Then you're normal," Holly said. "Foaly says its not permanent and we have to get going before that mud-girl becomes food for the sharks down in Wexford."
"Wexford?" Artemis echoed. "What's in Wexford?"
"Their hidey-hole." Duke grinned, examining the rich normal boy up and down thoroughly like a shark would his prey. "But I don't see how we need you now git, you're just a shadow."
That sent a sting down Artemis's spine. "A shadow?" His face darkened. A shadow towered over the two boys in the doorway. They turned to meet the Eurasian Butler. He smiled, and cracked his meaty knuckles. Both boys stiffened. "Butler, did you catch all if it?" Artemis asked quietly.
The Eurasian nodded gravely without saying a word.
"A shadow then." Artemis thought for a moment. His father's shadow was bad enough, but a shadow of himself? A double-KO. "Fine. I can be a shadow of something else too," he finally responded. "But that doesn't mean I'm out of this. Whoever wanted me to regain my memories wanted me dead."
"How do you think of that?" Duke snorted.
"How else?" Artemis picked at his pants leg. It would take a while to get used to his slower thinking, but he couldn't hardly remember the time when his thoughts were as quick as lightning. It was strange. "Why else would they go through all their trouble? One knows that if they want to defeat their enemy with a little fun, their enemy has to be at their peak."
"But you're not," Darren reminded.
Artemis grinned. "They don't have to know that, do they?"
"No," Darren admitted. "Then lets get going. Wexford here we come."
"Wonderful, car rides." Artemis retorted.
"What? You don't like to travel?" Darren asked.
Artemis narrowed his eyes at redhead, "Add this up Flamer, I am --- was --- a genius who works in a dark room filled with close to 20,000 rams of information. Of course I hate car rides!"
Continue: Heck Yea/ D'Arvit! No!