The Flying Moose: yes, I've red the Opal Deception and I think it's by far the worst AF book. My fav will always be The Eternity Code.
Mistri, Tonks' Admirer: no, Angeline won't disappear for good. Fairies mustn't consume alcohol in the presence of humans or they will be disowned by fairy society.
Rebel Rose: in the epilogue.
kellylien: I doubt I would ever draw the pic Arty drew - I'm not for drawing naked women. Naked men… perhaps ;) And no, I am definitely not a professional writer. Wish I could be… perhaps some day, if I'm lucky.
avovisto: Cesare is an Italian, and as far as I know, in Italian his name should be pronounced as 'Ches-are-eh'.
C-chan1: I hope you will never be able to predict the whole plot of any fic of mine :)
Queen Dragon: no, Attila and Fiona's friendship isn't much like A/H, because Attila and Fiona never fall for each other (at least Attila never falls for Fiona).
septempopuli: yup, I knew what 'in vino veritas means' - that's one of the few things I've known in Latin.
chocolate smudge: I know that it's difficult to remember things that you read weeks ago, but you can't complain - some authors don't update for months (and of course I too forget what their fics were about…) And yes, there will be weekly updates, because I want my mum to read every chapter once more before I post them and she's quite busy, she can't read more than one chapter a week.
BeatlesLover4: it is mentioned in one - or more than one? - of the AF books that Artemis likes making fakes of famous paintings. I think if he's talented at painting, he must be talented at drawing as well.
Inken: Patrick is twelve, not eleven :) And he's a very strange boy, indeed. I too disagree with Artemis about the baby not needing a bodyguard… I wrote that into the fic as some kind of foreshadowing.
The OddBird: did you watch the Sissi series with Romy Schneider or do you refer to something else?
SPG: once a week.
Lady Emerald Black: all grandmas love their grandchildren but some can't endure their daughter-in-laws. The same works for Angeline. Opal will only appear for two or three shorts scenes, but Mulch will be around a lot. And no, the baby won't be called Artemis. Re-read the last few lines of the Aztec Incident, and you'll see why :)
Zodokai: yes, Cesare knows Timmy too well, and also he knows about the existence of fairies from Ferro's journal (in prologue). He just didn't know how he could get hold of a fairy. Now, however… ;)
Chixawitch: clever girl!
Also thanks to: El Diablo Ella Misma, hogwartscharmed1, Trouble Kelp, aperfectattitude, frenchpiment, Fleury, Adaia Swordmaiden, Holly Rox, Lumos2000, AmethystPhoenix1, iccy, Fudge1, refloc, VampyGenieWitch, Mousewolf, CheshireHare, cokkii, mouse
Those Whom God Hath Joined Together…
One month later
"Nervous?" Butler asked Artemis. The young man was standing in front of a full-length mirror in Butler's suite, as he had placed his own room at Holly's disposal for dressing.
"Just a bit," he replied, straightening the pale yellow rose on his tuxedo. "How do I look?"
"You look like a very nervous groom," the manservant replied with a grin.
"If I look nervous, then why was it necessary to ask whether I was nervous?" Artemis grunted.
"Just to calm you." Butler patted his one-time charge on the shoulder.
"Now that really managed to calm me," the groom said sarcastically.
"Oh, come on, Artemis, relax, you're just getting married, not fighting a horde of bull trolls…"
"Somehow I'd rather be fighting a few trolls right now," young Fowl muttered.
"You don't mean you've chickened out?" His one-time bodyguard raised an eyebrow at him.
"Noooo, why would I have?" Artemis said, picking invisible pieces of dirt off his tuxedo to hide his nervousness.
"Come, let's sit down." Butler benignly guided the young man to the sofa. "And now, take a few deep breaths and try to calm down. Stop the trembling too."
"I'm not trembling."
Butler gave him an amused look but decided not to argue. "Just answer me something, Artemis. Do you love Holly?"
"More than anything or anyone."
"See? Then there's no reason to be nervous. She loves you too, and today should be the happiest day of your lives: today you are going to swear eternal faith and love to each other… isn't that wonderful?"
Artemis made a grimace. "Doesn't that sound mushy to you?"
"Well, you've got to get used to the thought of doing and listening to mushy things today - all day. There will be all kinds of sappy toasts and flower petals and a chorus singing Ave Maria…"
"Ave Maria?" Artemis blinked. "Won't Holly walk down the aisle - I mean, the garden path - during the bridal march?"
"No. Your mother insisted that a nice church song would be the best. How did she put it?" Butler scratched his head, trying to remember, "I think she said that Ave Maria would probably manage to give the guests the illusion that Holly is still… um… pure."
Artemis couldn't help rolling his eyes. His mother and her strict Catholicism…
"How many guests are to be expected?" he asked. "I never got around to looking at the invitation list."
"As far as I know, Mrs Fowl made a list of two hundred and forty-five people…"
"Two hundred? And forty-five?" Artemis gasped. "She's gone mad! This isn't Prince William's wedding, for heaven's sake!"
"Well," the manservant shrugged, "you know her… She wanted a fancy, elegant wedding to…"
"…show-off," Artemis finished the sentence, hiding his face into his palms. He had expected about thirty-forty guests at most… "Will there be enough seats and meal for everyone?"
"Of course there will be. Your mother and Juliet arranged everything just fine. Nothing will go amiss, believe me."
"I wish I had your optimism, Butler," the groom sighed. "And if we want to avoid the engagement-fiasco, make sure my father doesn't get any alcohol."
"Don't worry, I will keep an eye on him. And now, up you go, you've got to get married in ten minutes!"
"Ten?" Artemis jumped up from the sofa, staggering a few steps ahead. All of a sudden, he felt horribly dizzy.
As Artemis stumbled out the door, he almost ran into Patrick, who had been heading for Butler's room to see how things were going. Before he had left Haven, Patrick had applied the MMM and now looked like a completely normal human boy.
"You look unusually pale, Da… Artemis," the boy said. Although there was no one else around, he still had to be careful when addressing his father: besides the Fowls and the Butlers no one was supposed to find out the blood relation between him and the groom.
"Thank you," Artemis replied sharply. "First Butler says I look nervous, and now even you had to mention it. By the way, what's that velvet cushion you're carrying around?"
"I'm the ring-bearer." The boy drew himself up, straightening his bow-tie. "Certainly the rings are still in my breast pocket…"
"Ring-bearer, eh?" Artemis sent his son a lopsided grin. "Just take good care of them, will you, Frodo?"
Patrick saluted. "Aye-aye, oh mighty Gandalf!"
As Artemis stepped out of the building, he involuntarily let out a gasp. Could this be two hundred and forty-five people? It looked more like a thousand… Men and women, old and young, parading in Armani suits and colourful silk dresses; and all of them were staring at him. With anticipation. Curiosity. And most of all: disbelief. Disbelief, at seeing the coldest, infamous-for-his-impassivity bachelor getting married.
Most of the guests were people Artemis had never even met - they must have been his mother's school friends and his father's business associates, but there was a distinct bunch of people who looked horribly familiar to him.
"Butler," he leaned closer to his old friend, "am I imagining things, or is the whole of St. Bartleby's here? Principal Guiney, Dr Po and all of my idiotic classmates?"
"Er, Artemis… I believe it was your mother's idea…" the manservant whispered back.
"She could have asked my opinion first," the groom grunted, then forced a faint smile on his face and continued walking down the garden path, to the makeshift altar where Father Brian, a second cousin of Artemis the First, was waiting for him with a sickeningly benign expression. Artemis felt an uneasy feeling in his stomach and an invisible hand compressing his gullet. For a second a thought like 'what am I doing here?' flashed across his mind, but he quickly reminded himself that such bothering thoughts would manifest themselves on his face, and he wouldn't give the St. Bartleby people the pleasure of seeing him insecure. He didn't feel like seeing Dr Po publish a book on how a genius had been shattered by the trauma of his own wedding… Perhaps he would some day write an article on 'wedding nerves' as F. Roy Dean Schlippe… Well, perhaps not. He wasn't sure he would ever publish anything again.
Keep smiling, he recited to himself, forcing his facial muscles to tuck into some sort of a grin. A smug grin, preferably. The smugger he seemed, the better. After all, why shouldn't he look smug? Why shouldn't he be proud and self-conscious?
He looked handsome and elegant; the pompous decorations of Fowl Manor were the epitome of wealth; and he was marrying the most wonderful girl on earth. These people around had every right to be green with envy. Yes, Artemis decided, he was enviable. But would these people still envy him if they knew he was no longer the genius they believed him to be? Wouldn't his classmates start laughing maliciously, pointing at that 'little freak who had always pretended to know everything better than the teachers'? Wouldn't Dr Po want to interview him on the feelings his loss of genius had awoken in him?
Artemis was no longer smiling - he had completely forgotten about wanting to look smug and enviable… Some people around started to whisper, making funny glances at the 'happy' groom, but he didn't notice. Someone, far behind, started to sing, but the music didn't reach his ears.
"Artemis!" Butler nudged him, and the young man was rudely tossed back into reality.
"Huh?" He blinked, looking confusedly around, until his eyes fell on something whitish at the other end of the path. "H…Holly…" he muttered, oblivious to the fact that with his bulging eyes and open mouth he looked as undignified as possible. But, even if he had known how comical he looked, he couldn't have cared less - he was mesmerised. Not by fairy magic, but by a fairy-turned-human girl walking down the 'aisle' towards him.
Undoubtedly, she was the loveliest image he had ever had the good fortune of beholding. She wore a cream-coloured muslin dress that had a slightly ancient air to it, as though Holly had just stepped out of a nineteenth century photograph: rose-patterned, snow-white lace covered the hoop-skirt, but the long-sleeved, low-cut top part of the dress was fairly plain with only a few dozen pearls sewn onto it. Instead of a tiara she wore a wreath of gardenias (that were a sharp contrast to her auburn locks), and a veil so long that it would have easily cleaned the garden path, had Juliet the maid of honour (dressed in pink) not been holding its end and carrying it after Holly. As the sunrays fell on the veil, it seemed to be sparkling, as though it had been woven of diamonds. Artemis didn't know what sort of material it had been made of, but it made Holly look like a fairy. Like a fairytale-fairy, to be exact… Her whole being seemed to be emanating magic… One could have easily expected her to be carrying a wand, but instead of a wand she was carrying a bouquet of gardenias and pale yellow roses.
As she approached the altar, Artemis caught himself listening to the music that he hadn't even noticed had started. Ave Maria all of sudden didn't seem corny or prudish to him - rather he found it solemn and uplifting. His mother had indeed had good taste when choosing this particular song instead of the bridal march.
Before Holly reached him, he cast a quick glance around to see the guests' reaction to his fiancée, and he was more than satisfied to see the young men's eyes bulging, the younger women pale with envy and the older people watch with their mouths agape. There was no way they could have seen a bride more radiant. The smug smile was back on Artemis's face: everyone present envied him. And, judging by the flashes of some cameras, his father must have invited a few journalists too, and that meant that by this time tomorrow, the whole of Ireland would envy him. That was a very satisfying feeling.
As Holly stepped up to him and sent him a heart-melting smile, he felt his knees buckle. Close up she looked even more beautiful. She wore a light make-up that enhanced the hazel colour of her eyes that sparkled just like her diamond earrings. Apparently Angeline had lent Holly her favourite earrings - Artemis found this a particularly friendly gesture from his mother.
"Dearly beloved," Father Brian began, "we have gathered here on this wonderful summer day in the sight of God to unite this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is an honourable estate, instituted of God, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church; which holy estate Christ adorned and beautified with his presence, and first miracle that we wrought, in Cana of Galilee; and is commended of Saint Paul to be honourable among all men: and there is not by any to be enterprised, nor taken in hand, unadvisedly, lightly, or wantonly, to satisfy men's carnal lusts and appetites; but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God; duly considering the causes for which matrimony was ordained. First, it was ordained for the procreation of children…" At this Artemis squinted at Holly and she could barely hide a grin, but Father Brian seemed not to notice - after all, he had no idea that the young couple were expecting a child already.
"…to be brought up in the fear and nurture of the Lord, and to the praise of his holy Name," the priest continued. "Secondly, it was ordained for a remedy against sin, and to avoid fornication…" For some reason Artemis's face turned slightly pinker than it used to be, "that such persons as have not the gift of continency might marry, and keep themselves undefiled members of Christ's body. Thirdly, it was ordained for the mutual society, help and comfort, that the one ought to have of the other, both in prosperity and adversity. Into which holy estate these two persons present come to be joined. Therefore if any man can show any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace."
"Wait! Stop! Hey! Artemis!" Someone shouted from the crowd.
Artemis and Holly turned around, shocked. Who dared disrupt their sacred moment?
There was a bit of a commotion, and finally a guard (hired by Artemis's parents, as they didn't want Butler to do guarding duties and miss the wedding) came forward, holding a little man by the scruff of his elegant black suit.
"Sir, I've just caught this… er… man," the guard said, flinging the unfortunate fellow as though he were as light as a bag of chips. "He didn't have an invitation!"
"Why, hello, Mulch." Artemis said with crossed arms.
"Diggums!" Root hissed from the foremost row of seats.
"Hi, Mulch!" Patrick waved at the newcomer.
Angeline and her husband exchanged worried glances. What if this appeared in the newspapers? Oh, the horror!
"You know him, Sir?" asked the guard from Artemis.
"Yes, I do know him. A friend I forgot to invite," the groom replied. The guests began whispering among each other: how could Artemis Fowl have friends like this? "Was it you who disrupted the process of the wedding by shouting, Mulch?"
"Yeah, it was me." The dwarf shrugged with an innocent expression as the guard dropped him on the stone path. "You know you could have invited me, I should be feeling hurt…"
"Shall I chuck him out?" offered the guard.
"Let him stay," Artemis said with an indulgent smile. "Shall we continue, Father?" He turned back to the priest.
"Unless the um… guest wishes to say something why you and your bride should not be united in marriage…" the priest replied, ogling Mulch with an insecure expression. He had married over three hundred couples in his life, but it had never yet happened that someone disrupted the wedding, especially right after he had asked the Banns.
"Oh, noooo, feel free to continue it, old chum," Mulch told the priest with a toothy grin. "Hi there, Stinker, you look good," he greeted Juliet.
"Hi, Smelly," the maid of honour replied, her eyes twinkling in a way that suggested: she found the whole situation highly amusing.
"Budge up, Julius, I want to sit down too." The dwarf slipped into the first row of seats. For some mysterious reason, Root's face was turning a nasty shade of puce.
"Well, then, let us continue, shall we?" Father Brian said. "So… Hem… Answer me, Artemis, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?"
Artemis sent Holly a loving glance. "I will."
"And you, Holly, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?"
Holly raised an eyebrow at Artemis with an impish expression that suggested: 'Obey you and serve you, Fowl? You wish…' But aloud she simply said: "I will."
"Who gives this woman to be married to this man?"
Root held up a hand. "I do."
"You, Julius? Since when have you been Holly's father?" Mulch asked, but seeing the Commander's eyes flash furiously at him, he decided to leave it at that.
"I wonder how Mulch found out about the wedding," Holly whispered to Artemis as he took her right hand into his right one.
"I'll ask him later," he whispered back, then continued in a louder voice: "Dearest Holly. I'm not a man of smooth talk, you know that as well as everyone here does." There was a murmur of agreement from the crowd that, Artemis suspected, must have come from his old schoolmates. If no one else, then they must have known him for being able to communicate in one way only: talking down to them. "The point is that even if I wanted to sing praises of you, I would fail miserably. But one thing I can tell for sure: you've changed my life. Before you came along, I was possibly the coldest person on the face of earth, but your presence warmed me. Before I knew you, I didn't care for anyone or anything but my own well-being and money-making. You broadened my horizons and made me realise that the world is more than we know… and that it doesn't revolve around me. Now I could no longer imagine being the old Artemis - being that person who had been locked up inside his own head, closing out all the beauty life can offer. You've changed me for good, and I'm more than grateful for that. I love you for that. I love you for being yourself: a girl who's open-minded enough to tolerate even my most annoying quirks, and who's open-hearted enough to love all creatures, regardless of their looks or traits or beliefs. I've been seeking treasure all of my life, and in you, I have found the greatest treasure. And now that I've found it, I do not intend to part with it, ever. Therefore I, Artemis Fowl the Second, take thee, Holly Short, to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance, and thereto I plight thee my troth."
By the time Artemis had finished his vows, tears were glinting in Holly's eyes. Her voice was quivering with emotions when she started to speak.
"Artemis… I might have changed your life, but you have changed mine just as much…" She blinked back a tear, and slightly sniffing, she carried on. "At first I thought you'd changed my life to the worse, but as I got to know you more, I came to realise that it was a change for the better. For years I tried to deny that I had grown fond of you the day I met you; I tried to deny that I saw more in you than the self-centred nerd, but truth was that I did. As I've told you once before, under all those layers of deviousness, there has always been a spark of decency, and that spark has recently grown enough to melt those layers and let your true self surface. And your true self was the one that I fell in love with - not the indifferent plotter, but the warm-hearted, generous and courageous man who has long been hiding inside you, waiting to come out. I'm proud to have helped this man show himself to the rest of the world, and I will do everything in my power to help him continue walking down this path. Therefore, I, Holly Short, take thee, Artemis Fowl the Second, to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance, and thereto I plight thee my troth."
"Give me a hanky, Julius," Mulch sniffed, and Root, without a single word, handed him one, drying his own eyes with another tissue.
Artemis the First glanced at his wife to see her face soaked with tears - she didn't look a bit like someone who disapproved of her son's choice of wife. Not in the least. After vows like this, could she hold a grudge against Holly any longer? At that moment she felt she could not. Fairy or not, bewitcher or not, Holly loved her son. And Artemis, her little Arty, loved this girl with all his heart, a mother could see that. Wiping her teary face with a lacy handkerchief, Angeline focused her attention on her grandson, who stepped to the altar with the pillow that bore the rings. Patrick looked very handsome and elegant in his tuxedo - he had never resembled Artemis so much before, Angeline thought fondly. Hopefully the guests wouldn't notice the uncanny resemblance…
Juliet was close to tears too, but managed to fight them back. Butler, next to her, was smiling as his one-time charge placed the wedding ring on Holly's finger. Artemis's hand was quite visibly shaking as he did so. Holly's hand was trembling so much that the ring she wanted to give Artemis slipped out of her fingers - but thanks to her LEP-honed reflexes, she managed to catch it and quickly placed it on Artemis's ring finger.
"Hereby, with the power bestowed upon me by God, I pronounce you husband and wife," Father Brian concluded. "Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder. You may kiss the bride."
The wedding feast was in full swing, all kinds of expensive and exotic meals covering the two hundred and forty-six porcelain plates (Artemis had ordered an extra plate for Mulch, who, despite being uninvited, was now sitting at the head table with the newlyweds). The tables were arranged in an 'E' form, under glorious garlands of white roses. Anyone could have guessed that the Fowls had spent at least a hundred thousand Euros on the decorations alone. Artemis wasn't particularly keen on the flower garlands and the silver cutlery, but if showing off made his mother happy, then it was fine by him.
Butler stood up and clinked a spoon against his glass. The guests fell silent and all eyes focused on the head table.
"Well," the manservant cleared his throat, "as the best man it's my task to propose the first toast. As many of you already know, I'm not an orator myself, but if Artemis trusted me to be his best man, then I will try to live up to his expectations: I'm going to be short." He winked at the young couple. "Holly, Artemis, may you live each day like your last, and live each night like your first. Here's to the bride and the groom."
"Every night like our first?" Holly whispered to Artemis. "I hope not…"
"Why, what didn't you like about it?" He gave her a slightly hurt expression.
"My healing," she sniggered. "Wasn't your fault, but it ended in a comedy."
"At least we have hilarious memories of our first time - not every couple say the same about theirs," Artemis commented as Root rose to his feet.
"I, as the semi-father of the bride, would like to wish you two the best of luck, and many, many happy years spent together."
"Many years, eh? Yeah, as long as Holly's playing Mrs Fowl, you get to be Commander," Mulch muttered, but Root pretended not to have heard the dwarf's comment.
"I might not be the one who had supported this relationship from the beginning," Root carried on in a solemn voice, "and I even admit to have held Miss Butler's theory on this 'Artemis/Holly romance' as nonsense, but after a while not even I could be blind enough not to notice that these two people were made for each other. You, Holly, and you, Artemis, are as different as night and day, and it is often said that two such different persons could not live together without killing each other any time soon, but you have so far proved the opposite, and I wish you eternal patience and tolerance to be able to continue proving it. Here's to the bride and groom."
Glasses were emptied again, and the fairies - like always - were drinking non-alcoholic drinks. To the groom's relief, his father - who was the next to stand up - had decided to completely forsake alcohol for this day.
"Well," Fowl Senior began, "There isn't much to be said that Butler and Mr. Root haven't mentioned, so let me wish the young couple good luck with a traditional little verse. Artemis, Holly, may you have all the happiness and luck that life can hold, and at the end of all your rainbows, may you find a pot of gold."
"Gold? Where?" Mulch looked up from his plate with a greedy expression.
"Nowhere, convict," Root whispered to him with a furious look.
"Oh…" The dwarf's face fell. "Well, then…" He scrambled to his feet, but as he was too small to be visible, he decided to climb on his chair. The guests gave that 'scandalising person' dubious glances. Mulch, however, paid no heed to them. "Artemis and Holly," he began in his raspy voice, "you have forgotten to invite me to your wedding, but old Mulch isn't the type to keep a grudge. We are friends after all, aren't we? So, I wish you all the nice things that the others before me have, and may all your ups and downs come only in the bedroom. Cheers!"
"Why, thank you, Mulch," Holly said sharply as the dwarf settled down into his chair near hers.
"You're welcome, sweetie. I always thought you and Arty were a fab couple…"
"Do tell us, Mulch," Artemis leaned closer so that no one but Holly and the one-time convict would hear him, "how did you find out about our wedding? I doubt Root or Patrick have told you…"
"Nah." Diggums waved cheerfully. "My precious Opal was hacking into Foaly's mailing system the other day and intercepted an e-mail that little Pat sent Foaly about the wedding. Truth be told till yesterday I hadn't even known you'd moved to live with Artemis, Holly… I, like everyone in Haven, thought you were taking care of your sick aunt in Atlantis… Tsk-tsk… who would have thought? Saint Miss Short isn't as saintly as one would think…"
"Thank you for the assessment, Mulch," the bride glowered at him. "And just to remind you, I'm not Miss Short anymore. I'm Mrs. Fowl."
"'Course, dear." Mulch shrugged. "Ah, Artemis… I would highly appreciate it if you didn't mention Opal's hacker activities to old Julius…"
"Certainly not," Artemis replied with the smile of a true accomplice, sending a side-ways glance at Root who was thankfully too deep in conversation with Patrick to overhear them. "So, you and Opal are still hitting it off well?"
"Oh, wonderfully, Arty, wonderfully. She's a fiery little wench."
"And how come she hasn't decided to come with you here?"
"First: she isn't allowed to leave Haven, you know, it was part of the verdict. Second: she's too busy," Mulch replied with a shrug. "Working on some gadget that, according to her, will put Foaly to shame. You know it's her greatest obsession: to outdo the centaur."
"Shhh!" Holly pressed her index finger on her lips and pointed at an old man who had stood up at one of the lower tables.
"Dr. Po? This should be interesting," Artemis muttered to his wife.
"Why, who's this?" she whispered back.
"My one-time psycho-analytic… or he thought he was. But in fact it was me who analysed him, not vice versa."
Dr. Po cleared his throat. "Well, Artemis - I hope you don't mind me still calling you Artemis - I must say I'm pleasantly surprised. After our little conversations at St. Bartleby's, I never thought that the day would come when I'll have a chance to toast you. I'm sure I'm not hurting your feelings if I claim that you were the most anti-social little boy I had ever had the misfortune of meeting, and you nearly managed to make me run screaming from the school like you did with my predecessors. If someone at that time had told me that some day I would attend your wedding - and that you would be marrying out of love and not for money, I would have sent them to the nearest lunatic asylum." There were chuckles among the guests, especially in the 'St. Bartleby's section'. "I drink to you, Artemis, for having proved that anyone can change, even the most hopeless causes. And if this change was indeed brought about by your lovely wife, then I can only congratulate her. You alone have managed what a dozen school counsellors did not, Mrs Fowl, and I truly respect you for that. I wish you two all the happiness in the world."
"Thank you, Dr. Po." Artemis sent the old psychiatrist a trademark vampire smile.
"Whew, that was one high-flown speech," Mulch commented once everyone had drunk to the new couple for the umpteenth time. "By the way, Arty, where are you two going on a honeymoon?"
The dwarf must have asked his latest question a bit too loud, as everyone turned in the head table's direction, clearly interested in the destination such a rich couple had chosen for their honeymoon.
"I bet it's a trip around the world, I heard the Fowls had bought a yacht," a female voice murmured.
"Nah, I'm sure it's the Bahamas or Hawaii…"
"Well," Artemis looked around with merrily glinting eyes, "First of all: we haven't bought a yacht and aren't planning to. Second, Holly and I are not going on a honeymoon. At least not this year."
"NOOOO?" people gasped.
"No," Artemis replied. "We decided to stay at home and not risk Holly's health by going on a long trip…" His mother paled, knowing well what he was about to say. With an assertion like that he could ruin the image of purity his mother had worked so hard to create for Holly… But truth was that Artemis didn't care for pretences, and he most definitely did not like hypocrisy. He put an arm around his wife with a glance at Angeline that carried the silent message 'take that, mother', and said: "Holly and I are going to have a baby in January."
"Hah! Arty, you little tyke!" Mulch whistled. "A baby! Julius, did you know this?"
As expected, everyone started to talk at once, and Angeline quickly fished a sedative pill out of her handbag with a shaking hand.
"Why did you tell them?" Holly asked her husband in a hushed voice.
"Why shouldn't I have told them?" Artemis raised an eyebrow at her in a challenging manner. There was something in his eyes that she had seen only once before: when he had decided to give up his genius - the same resoluteness, the same creepy fire. He almost looked rebellious. "They would have found out sooner or later, anyway," he explained. "People can count. And besides, if my parents wanted the press to be here, then they will have to face the consequences. Even those poor journalists need to have a field day once in a while..."
"Artemis!" She shook her head disapprovingly, but her mouth had tucked into a smile. "It's downright lucky that we have asked Foaly to block all news on our wedding…" she added thoughtfully. They had had no idea that the press would be invited by the older Fowl couple, but Artemis had been sure that some guests would want to take photos and perhaps even put them on the Internet, so he told the centaur in advance to make sure that any photo or article that pertains to their wedding would be unavailable underground. After all, if the rest of the fairies found out, Holly would have no chance of ever returning to them. She would become an outcast.
"Yes, lucky." He nodded absent-mindedly, but his ears perked up as he caught some words coming from the neighbouring table:
"Honestly, this is the day of surprises for me. I always thought Fowl was either gay or impotent - or both."
"Then listen here, Malcolm," Artemis turned to the owner of the voice, one of his dumbest schoolmates. "First: it's true that eight years have passed since we graduated from St. Bartleby's… or in your case only five, as you fell through a few times, didn't you? - but even though I'm older now, it doesn't mean my ears aren't still working fine. Second: I can assure you I'm a hundred percent heterosexual, and the only reason why I never showed it in St. Bartleby's is that the only woman there was the seventy-two-year-old, toothless librarian. Third: I'm perfectly capable of fathering children, thank you very much." His eyes met Patrick's, and the boy gave him the silent thumbs-up.
Malcolm's face turned ruby red, and even some of his old classmates around him started to snigger at Artemis's witty riposte. Malcolm undoubtedly deserved that.
Late in the afternoon the guests were forced into the house by a downpour and the party continued in the entrance hall and the surrounding salons. Couples were dancing, smaller groups were discussing the latest social events, and Artemis was more than happy to have a chance to withdraw into a corner and finally get out of the focus of attention.
He watched amusedly as his father twirled Holly across the dance floor (his mother was dancing with Commander Root). He had no idea where Mulch could be, but as long as the dwarf didn't steal anything from the house, Artemis didn't mind that he wasn't around.
"Nice to see that Grandpa's getting along so well with Mum," Patrick said as he was trying to fish something out of the pocket of his trousers. "So, this is the one I've mentioned to you last time we talked over the videophone." He showed a tiny, flat gadget on his palm.
"Your latest invention?" Artemis took the gadget from his son.
"Uh-huh. Foaly says it could be amazing if I manage to finish it… and of course I will finish it." Young Short gave the groom a very Fowl-like vampire smile.
Artemis forced himself to return the smile, trying to hide the pain he was feeling at the moment - holding a wonderful piece of brand new technology, not much unlike his latest, unfinished invention. What would he give if he could finish it! What would he give for just a few dozen additional IQ points!
"Well," he said, "it looks pretty, but you haven't yet said what this is."
"A transporter." Patrick beamed.
"A what?"
"I assume you've seen at least a few episodes of Star Trek?"
Artemis's eyes widened with surprise. "You don't mean this works like the transporter on the Enterprise?"
"But I do." Patrick drew himself up. "Just of course this one is way better than that. For one, it doesn't need to be connected to a ship or even a computer… you just have to type in the required coordinates, see…" He took the gadget back from Artemis and flipped it open to reveal a micro-keyboard and a tiny screen, "and this little beauty will take you there in an instant. Well, of course only when it's ready. It's almost ready, but I still need to add the finishing touches and run a few tests on it."
"And who will be the tester? I doubt anyone would be bold enough to risk getting… splinched?"
Patrick's eyes glinted jovially. "You've finally read Harry Potter, haven't you?"
The groom shrugged. "I have. So what?"
The boy hid a grin. Surely Artemis Fowl the Second would never admit having liked a children's book, would he? "Well, you don't need to worry about the… splinching. It's safe… I think. But I wouldn't mind if you looked through it and told me if you found any flaws…"
His father gave him a sad smile. "Do you really think I could notice any flaws in the work of a genius?"
"I just thought… I should show it to you…" The boy began, but his voice trailed off - he realised he couldn't really tell his father a reason why he thought it was a good idea to ask for the opinion of a one-time genius. The only reason he could have said was '…because you're my father', but even inside his head it sounded ridiculous. A Fowl - by name or by blood - wouldn't sink so low as to admit having ignored the laws of logic and letting sentimentalism lead their actions. "Er…" Patrick opened his mouth again, hoping that his wonderful brains would provide him with a reasonable-sounding answer, but he didn't have a chance to continue, because the next instant Artemis jumped up from the sofa.
"Holly!" He breathed and ran across the crowd to his father, who was holding the unconscious bride in his arms.
The dancing and the music stopped, and the guests opened a way for the new husband to carry his pale, motionless wife up the stairs.
Holly awoke to a strange feeling - she was in a more or less horizontal state, but she seemed to be moving. Or rather, being moved, by someone else. She opened her eyes to see glorious crystal chandeliers swooping above her. Well, they weren't exactly swooping, but she was so dizzy that even at a normal walking-pace, the chandeliers seemed to be moving quickly and swinging sickeningly. She took an effort to lift her head a bit and her gaze fell on the familiar face of her lover. Husband, she corrected herself in thought. "A…artemis?" she muttered.
"Oh, you've come round," he replied with a relieved expression.
"Where… where are you carrying me? The party's not over yet, is it?"
"No." He shook his head and stopped before their room. "You've fainted. Do you think you can stand for a second until I punch in the code?"
"Uh, yeah, I think I can." Holly tried her legs and they felt strong enough to support her weight. "I don't even remember having fainted…"
The door swished open and Artemis bent to scoop Holly up again, but she held out a hand. "No need, thanks. I can walk on my own feet. Or…" An impish smile spread on her face, "would you like to carry me over the threshold and… begin our wedding night early?"
He returned her smile, but shook his head. "I would love to, but the guests are still here and it would not be proper to disappear just like that… they would think we can't keep our hormones at bay."
"Why, can we?" She raised an eyebrow at him in a challenging way.
"Holly, don't do this, or I really won't be able to hold back… Now please, go and lay down a bit if you don't want to faint again."
"But I'm feeling all right already." She pouted. "Just a little bit dizzy, really…"
"That's enough. I'm worried about you, okay?" He took her by the arm and gently but determinedly guided her into the room.
"Don't worry, the baby's fine, a little bit of dancing couldn't harm it," she said, dropping herself on the bed. "Also, my magic wouldn't let it be harmed."
"I'm not worried about the baby," he replied. "Or at least… he's not the number one priority for me… it's you. I love you, Holly, and you can't imagine what I felt when I saw you collapse… It was almost as bad as the jaguar incident…"
Holly reached out and gently caressed his cheek. "It's sweet of you that you worry about me, but no need, really. I'm fine. I just need a bit of fresh air, I think."
Artemis stepped to the window and opened it. "Now be a good girl and lay down a bit. I'll be back in half an hour, and if you feel all right by then, you can come and join the others."
"Ooookay, doctor." She grimaced and lay down. "I'm completely ruining my wedding dress this way, you know…"
"Then you can rejoin the guests in something more comfortable. You'd look like a princess even if you were wearing a sack." He bent down and kissed her lightly on the lips. "And now rest, dearest."
"'Kay," she muttered, closing her eyes. "Leave the door open, will you? A little bit of a through draft will help clear my head."
"All right. I'll be back soon."
As Artemis reached down the stairs, several guests gathered around him.
"How's she doing?" asked his father.
"She's all right, just needs a bit of rest," the groom replied.
"So she's come around?" Juliet enquired. Patrick, lagging behind her, seemed as pale as a sheet. His mother had always been the epitome of strength and healthiness, and seeing her faint shocked him.
"Yes, and she wanted to come back instantly," Artemis lied, "but I told her to rest a bit. In half an hour I'll have a look at her, and if she's feeling well by then, she'll return to us."
"I do hope Mrs. Fowl's sickness isn't serious," added Cesare Cavalieri politely.
"No, thankfully just natural pregnancy symptoms." Artemis replied with a forced smile and mingled with the crowd like a proper host should.
"Da… I mean, Artemis," Patrick spoke up as he managed to get near the groom who had just managed to 'shake off' Dr. Po.
"Yes?"
"Um… what did that man want from you? You didn't seem too eager to answer him…"
"Apparently he thought that my sudden conversion from the egoistical git was some sort of a miracle and wanted to find out how it happened…" Artemis shrugged. "I suppose he was hoping to publish an article on it or something… but I gave him evasive replies. And I take it this isn't what you wanted to discuss with me, is it?"
"Er… no, Artemis." The little genius shook his head. "I just wanted to tell you that I do care about your opinion. You might not be the same you were months ago, but… you still have loads more of experience in inventing than I do."
His father patted him on the shoulder with a sad smile. "Nice try, Patrick. Well, I'm off to see how your mo… aunt is doing."
"But…" The boy stared after his father's receding figure. D'Arvit, he thought. He had been honest to his father, but Artemis didn't believe him… He hadn't said those things out of pity, no, he'd meant it! How could he prove to his father that he respected him despite having lost his genius? Artemis wouldn't believe him, because, it seemed, he was suffering from some kind of inferiority complex.
Artemis entered his room - that, from today on, was officially his and Holly's room. "Dear?" He looked around, not seeing his wife anywhere. Only her sparkly veil was lying on the bed, but she wasn't there.
Probably she only went to use the toilet, he thought and poked his head into the adjacent bathroom. It was completely Holly-free.
"Holly… where are you?" he asked nervously. Surely his wife wouldn't be playing hide-and-seek with him, would she? But what if that was some kind of a fairy wedding custom he had never heard of? Better ask Root about it, he decided and walked to the door. A gust of wind came across the room through the open window, and that was when he felt the scent. It was a sweet odour, and an unmistakable one. No biochemist would ever fail to recognise it if they had smelled it once before.
"Chloroform," Artemis muttered, all the blood running out of his face. He hurried out of the room, desperately looking left and right, and he was just about to start running down the corridor when his mind stopped him. The smell of chloroform had been weak, and that meant it had been used at least fifteen minutes ago. Too much time had passed to reach the culprit on foot.
With a sudden thought he ran to the window and looked down at the backyard. Although it was almost ten o'clock already, a few garden lamps illuminated the backyard enough for Artemis to see that still at least a hundred cars were parked there. None of the hired guards were around - Artemis suspected they were in the building, keeping an eye on the guests. An elderly lady clad in a peach-coloured dress was just about to get into the back seat of an Alfa Romeo. The chauffeur politely held out a hand to her and helped her into the car. Several parking places were empty, though, signalling that the cars that had been parked there had already left. One must have carried the unconscious Holly Fowl to an unknown place…
Letting out a groan of frustration, Artemis turned back from the window. Why, oh why had he agreed to leave that d'Arvitting door open?
If he alarmed the guards now, what could they do? The chance that his wife was still at Fowl Manor was less than one percent. Should he phone the police? That seemed a more reasonable act, but…
His eyes fell on the veil and from this angle he noticed the tip of an envelope poking out from under it.
He dropped himself on the bed and ripped the envelope open. The message it held seemed to have been written by a female hand.
Mr Fowl,
First of all, let me congratulate you on your wedding. Second: forgive me for separating you from your lovely wife on a wonderful day like this. If I had another chance to talk to her about certain… touchy subjects, I would have done it without resorting to such drastic methods as kidnap. Do not worry, you will have her back, as soon as she gives me the information I need. If she's reluctant to speak… well, then her captivity will be somewhat longer and considerably less comfortable. If Mrs Fowl does not wish to cooperate, I will have to get in contact with you again, in the hope of finding a solution to our problem.
I take I'm right in thinking that at the moment you are contemplating to alarm the police. I suggest you do not, Mr Fowl. You surely don't want to risk the health of your wife and unborn child, do you?
I suggest you remain as calm as possible and most of all: patient. If your wife is willing to help me, she might rejoin you in less than 24 hours. For the time being, it all depends on her.
Best wishes again,
Uninvited Guest
A/N2: getting interesting, huh? Poor Arty, he has no bride to spend the wedding night with…
Review, please!