Chapter Forty-Two, The Return

Ever since Silyah's hands had locked around the ladder of the hovercraft, the young woman had been as still as death, and just as quiet. A shocked silence had taken over her vocal chords; the only signs indicating that she was still alive were the heavy throbbing of her heart, the deep yet short breaths she took and the fear in her eyes.

Around her, everything was unfolding at a furious pace. Some people had strapped her on a stretcher as others had started to go through her vital signs.

"Morphling, I need some morphling," said one of the caretakers, clearly seeing the new victor's panic. Unfortunately for him, his request did not exactly help Silyah's crisis.

"No," mouthed the girl, shaking her head. Her eyes grew wide as one of the attendants handed a syringe to the other one.

"We need to remove your tracker and check on your overall health," explained a woman running along the stretcher as it was carried to a hospital-like room.

"No! No morphling!" repeated Silyah, breaking her silence with a shrill voice. "Let me go!" she screamed, tugging on the restraints that prevented her from falling of the stretcher.

There were too many people around her. Too many of them were clustered around her stretcher as it was secured on the floor; too many people were trying to take her few belongings away!

"Don't you dare taking that from me!" shouted Silyah, holding on the sleeves of her coat, knowing that her etching of Artemis was still in there. Then, another person tried to rid her of Artemis's backpack and that was when she lost it. "Stay back!" The girl used all the strength left in her to scream her sentence as she kept on fighting against the bounds that were supposed to protect her.

"Sedate her," said the main caretaker nonchalantly, clearly displaying how used he was to dealing with victors.

Silyah's heart raced some more. She could not let herself be inspected more closely! The girl tried to tug her way out of the stretcher, but unfortunately, it was too late…

As a syringe of anaesthetics was plunged in her arm, a single blue spark escaped from the small prick the needle had created, confirming Silyah's doubts. The girl took a deep breath, attempting to find how she could control the magic's flow and that was the last thing she managed to do before falling into the dim abyss of unconsciousness.

"No… Not even a scratch…"

"Really? Interesting…"

"We removed her tracker about half an hour ago and right now, there is not even the slightest trace of an incision on her forearm."

Silyah gradually opened her eyes, only to rapidly close them back due to the brightness surrounding her. For a second time, she tried to raise her eyelids, now expecting the strong light filling the hovercraft's infirmary. At first, everything was a tad hazy, but soon enough, the girl's vision adjusted itself and her gaze landed on the two discussing nurses at her bedside.

"Awakened just in time," said one of them, a woman with short dark hair and a bitter face, when she noticed the brunette. "We're going to land in about 15 minutes."

Land, thought Silyah as she realized what all of this meant. I'm still alive! How in the name of Panem did I survive? The girl's hand began to feel shaky, much like they had a few minutes before the Reaping.

Suddenly, she started wondering if Artemis had managed to get back home safely; if he had had the opportunity to live the life the Capitol had almost stolen from him… A pain-filled moment then came upon the girl as she became conscious of the fact that even if she had helped Artemis return to the past and had saved his life, he had stilled died… Way before she had even been born…

"Silyah?" Before the victor had the chance of breaking down, the door of her room slid open and a man with ashen grey skin and ill-fitting glasses walked in.

The brunette's eyes followed the man as he walked towards her bed and took a seat on a chair beside it. "I bet you probably didn't expect to see me here," muttered the girl, letting go of a sour chuckle. There came no reply from Beetee, only a sympathetic look. "Neither did I," thus added the teenager as her stare trailed behind the two nurses who were leaving her room.

Beetee hid a small smile. "So, how are you?"

"I don't know… Everything up until now is still a bit of a blur," answered Silyah, her eyes beginning to scan the room. "Where are my things?" she asked, feeling her panic rise. She brought her hand to her neck, noticing that her token, her gold aremèsia pendant and Silver's necklace were all missing.

"Don't worry, I've picked up everything except the arena gear, which was a bit too bloody to be of any more use…" Beetee lowered his gaze. "Mind you, there was a lot of blood…" he said in an odd tone, seemingly debating whether or not he should continue on his train of thought.

"What is it?" enquired Silyah dryly, reading through her mentor's expression.

The man took a deep breath through his nose. "Nobody saw the ending of the Games, Silyah… Not even Snow…"

For a moment, the girl was taken aback. Thank goodness they didn't, she thought before realizing what that implied. Quickly, she hid her relief with a frown.

"That has never happened before and the people in charge of this country don't especially like it," continued Beetee with a calm he had acquired through endless years of therapy. "I'm sorry if this might be difficult to hear, but for the time being, all they've got as a proof of Artemis's death is his tracker and some blood."

Silyah remained silent for a few minutes, unable to speak a single word. "Well he's not here, is he?" she whispered after some time.

"Silyah, what happened down there?" The man's voice was as soft as possible, fearing that he might shatter his tribute with words too harsh for her fresh wounds.

Once again, the only sounds that could have been heard in the room were those of the machines that were analyzing the victor's health.

Beetee sighed. "Listen, I'm only asking now because I don't want you to go through a hassle when you'll be back in the Capitol. They will want to – no – they want to know what happened and it might be even more painful for you if they have to use everything they can to get some answers."

"I know…" murmured Silyah. "But mark my words; at the very time we speak, Artemis Fowl is dead… I just don't want to think about it yet." The girl closed her eyes. I sure hope he had a great life… That he lived to be old and healthy and happy and loved… I owed him that for having saved my life. Now that she was safe and sound, what was she going to do of the favor Artemis had granted her? What would she do with the magic that had somehow transferred into her? How would she even explain Artemis's "death" and keep her lie a secret?

The heart rate monitor that was linked to the pale-skinned girl had begun to betray her increasingly rapid pulse, reminding Beetee of his duty towards the teenager.

"Take a deep breath… Relax," he told her soothingly before briefly looking down at his watch. "You won't have to address any questions you might not want to tackle yet. Not today. I will personally see to it."

"Thank you Beetee… Thanks for everything."

"You're very welcome," said the man, glancing at the door and then back to Silyah. "Since you are in good health, you will be wheeled into the Training Center in a minute or two so that your prep team can take a look at you," he explained. "I believe that you trust me to take your personal belongings back to the District 3 suite for you?"

Silyah nodded her approval. During the past weeks, she had been forced to trust Beetee with her life and apparently, it had worked out; she could surely rely on him to take care of a few sentimental trinkets.

Beetee barely had the time to rise from his chair that a low hum came from the hovercraft, quickly followed by the return of the two nurses that had been charged with Silyah's care.

"I'll take my leave," said Beetee, walking up to the door. "We'll meet again at the Training Center."

As the mentor left, the two medics went at Silyah's bedside, removing the stretcher from its base to reveal its wheels.

"Why can't I walk?" asked the blue-eyed girl.

"Protocol," mumbled the male caretaker.

"You're quite the unusual tribute," pointed out the female, something strange gleaming through her eyes when she gave Silyah a side look.

The teenager furrowed her brows.

"You are almost healthier than when you got in the arena," added the man. By his tone, his statement had nearly sounded like a bad thing. Well, it definitely could become a bad thing for Silyah if they had studied her while she was under sedation and found out that tiny blue sparks had mended all her wounds.

Oddly enough, ever since her return, the amount of problems she would possibly have to face seemed to keep on piling up with each passing minute. So many issues appeared to be trusted upon her just for the hell of it… At least, she had a small glimmer of consolation to hold on to… For all she knew, she could have saved the universe from a terrific paradox and even if she hadn't, she could still praise herself for having spared a life. Spared a life and destroyed a few, her brain reminded her, sending her the fresh memory of her knife swiftly slicing through Caskar's skin, removing a little more flesh with each stab.

"Try not to have a heart attack," said the dark-haired nurse, rolling her eyes. "Up to date, our job was way too easy to be true and I'd like it to remain that way."

Silyah narrowed her eyes, not liking the woman's behavior one bit. It was not her intention to have a heart attack, but if she had to have one, she would certainly not be sorry for the nurse who would be forced to bring her back.

Brushing away the anger she suddenly felt, Silyah took some deep gulps of air, trying to recall her fondest moments with Artemis rather than remembering her dead friends and brutal kills. She let her memories be filled with images of the boy from the train; the one who had helped her repair an old music player on her last day of school… The mustache boy, the Ice Prince… So close yet so far away, he had been the time traveler from the 21st century who had crossed her way…

Artemis Fowl.

Atom by atom, Artemis Fowl felt himself being pulled from the world of the Hunger Games and reassembled into the 21st century Ireland he knew; sinking back to himself as though and anchor had been tied to his feet.

Feeling the soft carpet of his office underneath his skin, the boy quickly realized that he had crumbled to the ground in his "landing" and that he had no intention of getting back up for the time being.

Violent images were filling his mind with the horrors he had experienced in the future, leaving the teenager panting as he clutched the thick fibers of the rug covering his study's floor.

When he came to think of it, the carpet was quite comfortable to rest on. Artemis contained a small shiver. What had the future done to him? To be fair, he had spent his last few nights in a forest, away from all the luxury he had always been used to and even if he told someone, which he knew he couldn't, it was very likely that they would never believe him anyway. Once more, the boy would have to heal from his adventure on his own, in complete silence… Not that it would be much of a problem to keep his escapade a secret, as most of Artemis's issues had always been locked away from others in the depth of his mind. Not to mention that, if everything had worked out back in Panem, the boy still had a little something to hold on to…

After a few immobile minutes, Artemis noticed that he was not alone in the room; a voice had been calling his name ever since he had arrived. The boy thus raised his head from the carpet, coming face to face with an extremely concerned demon warlock.

"For the love of Frond! What happened?" panicked N°1, fearing that his little demon heart might give up on him.

"Something… Unexpected…"

The warlock seemed unconvinced. "Do you know how long you've been gone from your own timeline?"

Artemis glanced at the window, trying to remember the height of the sun before his departure. "I would say, roughly four hours?"

"Four human hours!" confirmed N°1, his voice going a little higher than usual as he paced in front of Artemis. "I had the time to count them and that's three hours, fifty-nine minutes and fifty seconds more than the time it should have taken. Artemis, what have you done?"

"That's of little importance. I am back and it is all that counts."

N°1 frowned. "Never again," he whispered. Despite his friendly nature, his tone almost suggested that he was sending Artemis a threat. "Just think of what could have happened if you had stayed stuck in the future."

"I have no trouble visualizing it. It could have cause quite a large paradox and I am well aware of that, but let's get back to the present time, shall we?"

"Speaking of getting back, I would not want to alarm you, but clearly, not everything came back," mentioned the demon with a nervous laughter.

Artemis had tried not to think about it, but he knew. "I am also aware of that. Even with a lot of concentration, I am afraid I could not have brought back clothes that are yet to be made," retorted the boy, a tad annoyed by the laws of time and space. At least, Artemis could now be sure that he had gotten rid of the tracker in his arm.

"Guessing you might want me to go fetch something to cover you up," said N°1, recalling what he had been told about human etiquette on the day he had been forced to wear an orange floral muumuu.

"If you don't mind doing so," acquiesced the boy who was starting to be a bit too used to being underdressed.

"Right," nodded the warlock before leaving Artemis's study.

Artemis sighed faintly as N°1 closed the door behind him. The raven-haired boy shut his eyes, painfully taking in every horrifying detail his brain recollected from his experience in Panem.

Almost unconsciously, the teenager's hand had found his golden coin to make sure that it was still where it belonged. As his hand trailed up the chain around his neck, Artemis's eyes abruptly shot open. His index finger, which had once been his middle finger, had come into contact with a rough line on his skin. Running his finger over the line, Artemis quickly discovered that it traveled over the entire length of his throat. A scar.

Even though the magic had healed him, Artemis figured that the cut Caskar had inflicted him might have been so deep that it could not have been healed properly in the little time it took for the boy to get back into his own time stream. Artemis sighed again. He would have to make sure that the scar would remain out of his family's sight, as well as his own. It was almost as though the universe had condemned him to always remember the brutal time he had gone through… Perhaps that was his punishment for having taken two lives…

As Artemis tried not to grunt, he heard some light, yet firm footsteps from behind his doorway.

"That's the best I could find," said N°1, who walked in Artemis's office, a thick bed sheet in his small demon arms.

New images flooded Artemis's mind; images of death, snow, blood and the navy blue bed sheets from which Silyah had fashioned a shelter to protect them from the dangers of the arena. The boy pushed the memories away, pressing two fingers against his temple.

N°1 eyed him, wishing that he could have furrowed his brows. There was definitely something Artemis did not want to tell him. Nevertheless, the demon handed the boy the bed sheet and turned around, remembering that humans needed privacy when they covered themselves up.

Artemis grabbed the sheet, wrapping it around his slender body.

"So," began N°1 as Artemis sat up. "I assume that our meeting is adjourned," he said awkwardly, taking the opportunity to use the word "adjourned."

"Not quite… There is one more thing I must ask you," the grey-skinned demon looked reticent, but he still let Artemis go on with his question. "You haven't spoken to anyone since I left, have you?"

The demon shifted uncomfortably from his tail to his feet. "I… Hum… No…" During Artemis's absence, the warlock had somehow lost the ability to utter a single word; he had been too deeply lost in his guilty thoughts to reason properly. "I didn't tell anyone," admitted N°1. Suddenly, a new wave of that said guilt hit the demon. He had not even thought about getting help from the People; he had not even considered calling Bulter.

"Good," replied Artemis, much to N°1's relief. "You can't tell anyone. Understood?"

N°1 nodded quickly, fidgeting with his fingers. "Not even Holly?"

"Especially not Holly."

"Understood. Secret." The demon nodded once again. "As if it never happened?"

"It never happened," confirmed Artemis.

"Got it."

For a second, N°1 considered casting a memory spell over the entire event, but decided against it. If he did so, Artemis could try to bribe him again.

As he observed him, the demon's narrowing eyes fell on Artemis's throat.

The young man noticed the demon's gaze and pulled the bed sheet higher up his neck in order to cover his pale scar. "Now if you don't mind, I will instruct Butler to escort you back to your transportation and I will go get properly dressed," said the raven-haired boy, standing up to go contact his manservant through his office's intercom.

After a brief conversation, Artemis turned back to N°1. "Butler will be waiting for you by the front door."

"Alright… But before I go, you have to tell me something. Is everything okay?" The demon had a bad feeling about Artemis's state.

Yet another a quick flash of images appeared before Artemis's mismatching eyes, but he quickly shook them away. "Apart from the fact that I lost one of my favorite suits, I am fine, thank you," he replied.

"So, I shouldn't have anything to be guilty of?" asked the warlock as he followed Artemis out of his study.

"Absolutely nothing," guaranteed the Fowl heir, his mind bringing up the fact that he should be the one feeling guilty for having killed a few people.

"Good. Very good." N°1 allowed himself another moment of relief. "So very, very good," he added as he headed downstairs, waving Artemis goodbye.

After a brief nod to acknowledge N°1's departure, Artemis went to his bedroom, locking the door behind him. Every familiar detail of his room seemed so foreign and far away compared to the things he had recently seen.

Exhausted, the boy decided to take a quick shower. After a few minutes of letting the warm water roll down his shoulder, he turned off the tap, sighing. It would take him some serious meditation sessions to plunge back into his own reality.

As he wrapped a towel around himself, the boy saw his reflection in the mirror of his private bathroom and froze. The scar running along his throat had caught his attention and a phantom pain shot through it as the black-haired boy recalled Caskar's grim face so close to his as his knife slid by his jugular.

Artemis let go of a ragged breath. It was all in the past now, although it would have been more appropriate to say that it was all in the future.

Sending one last look towards his reflection, Artemis left the bathroom to find some suitable clothes in his drawer, making sure to select a shirt that would properly cover his battle scar. The boy smoothed his jet-black locks away from his face after having secured his golden coin around his neck, finally feeling a little more like his old self.

When he came to think about it, the boy realized that if it hadn't been for the coin, Silyah would have never been able to save him. It was because she had noticed the piece of gold that Artemis had taught her Gnommish in the first place.

Thank goodness there was a spark of dencency in me, thought the young Irish boy, sitting down on his bed. After everything he had to endure, it seemed almost too comfortable to be true. Home at last.

Artemis moved higher up on his soft mattress and crossed his legs, slipping into his solitary mind as he closed his eyes. Breathing slowly, Artemis went through his entire misadventure once again, trying not to delete any moment of weakness or fear while also attempting to detach himself from the range of emotions that had been wreaking havoc in his mind.

About an hour had passed when a pale smirk suddenly stretched the corners of Artemis's lips. The boy had recalled the result of the quick search he had conducted mere hours after having landed in Panem… At this point, the teenager felt it; the good old Artemis had begun to peek back to the surface of his being. Although he had gotten out of his adventure with physical and mental scars, he would, at least, be a couple of millions richer.

Feeling slightly better than before, Artemis got to his feet, heading back to his study. Opening his computer, the boy finally did what he had intended to do after his trip to the future. One single click was all it took for him to buy an action from the risky stock market he had been following for the past few weeks prior to his departure.

Once he knew that his fortune was as safe as ever, the boy took a few seconds to go over the manor's security system, making sure to erase the footage of his disappearance.

As though it never happened, he thought just as he took notice of the familiar sound of Fowl Manor's front doors being pushed open.

For a moment, Artemis's mind seemed to stop functioning when he heard his mother calling for him from downstairs.

Fighting to keep his composure, the Irish boy got up. It was hard to battle with the rush of emotions he suddenly felt. His parents were downstairs, casually waiting to greet him after a day at the park with the twins. It hit the boy that he had almost killed that very moment; he had been dangerously close to never seeing his family again…

Taking a deep breath, Artemis walk down the staircase, heading towards his parents and siblings.

"Artemis!" joyfully cried a toddler's voice as its owner ran straight towards his older brother. "Look it!" Beckett Fowl tugged on the teenager's trousers, as though he did not have his attention yet, and showed him a rock he had most likely found at the park.

"It's quartz," said Myles, slowly walking up behind his twin.

Images of the petite blond girl who had worn the translucent stone's name appeared in Artemis's mind, but the boy ignored the memory, pushing it back into slumber.

"That is correct," nodded Artemis, bringing his attention back to his siblings. "Do you know what we can make with quartz?" he then asked, deciding to give Myles and Beckett a mini-lesson.

The youngest of the twins looked at him with a puzzled face, while the other eagerly awaited the answer.

"Quartz is used in watch mechanisms," explain the oldest of the Fowl boys, taking the opportunity life had given him to try to be a good big brother.

"That true, daddy?" wondered Beckett, turning to his father.

"Yes it is," confirmed the man, his eyes landing on each of his sons.

"Let's go make a watch!" exclaimed Myles, grabbing his brother's rock to then run to his room. His twin followed him, much more enthusiastic about retrieving his precious find than actually making a watch.

Artemis Fowl Senior sighed happily. "So, how was your day?" he asked his eldest son.

"Same as usual, Father."

"Well, next time you should come with us. The park was absolutely lovely," said Mrs. Fowl, the smile that was about to appear on his lips cut short by a light fit of coughing.

Artemis furrowed his brows. "You know what I think of outdoor activities, Mother." The boy had noticed her cough, but chose not to worry too much about it; it was probably just a small cold.

Angeline cleared her throat and laughed. "You know, taking some fresh air could do you some good. We could go hiking in the nearby woods next week."

Artemis tried not to shudder. "Maybe some other time," he said, not too keen on the idea of spending another second in a forest.

"We've got all our lives ahead of us, don't we?" smiled Angeline, running a hand through her son's hair.

"Indeed," nodded Artemis, suddenly wondering what Silyah would do with the rest of her life now that she was safe.