A/N: Meh. I rewrote this chapter so many times and I'm still not satisfied with it. Ah, well. It's out, anyway.
Readers, give me critique and I will change my stupid mistakes. Such as: predictability, cliches, confusion of the readers, out-of-characterness, etc. Plus, my wonderful beta has now left me.(And sorry, people, my formatting is being stupid and won't center.)
Argh. I didn't believe in writer's block until now.
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3: Phantasmagoria
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Haven City
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"Wh—what?" Foaly spluttered. "Don't know wh—"
"Don't know what?" Holly said, bewildered and more than a little frightened. "Butler?"
It was as if all of the fight and fury had drained out of the bodyguard. The cold fire in his eyes was gone--fatigue replaced it-- and the Eurasian man ran a hand over his face.
"You....don't know," he said softly, with a sort of finality. And then his hand clenched and his eyes flashed weary anger."You don't know—"
He stopped himself.
"What's—" Holly eyes, while already naturally large, were wide. Butler was worried out of his mind, she could tell. For that, something had to be horribly, terribly—"wrong? Stop it, D'arvit, tell us!"
"I. . . was hoping you knew," Butler murmured, his eyes were far away, lost in his thoughts. "I thought you'd know. You don't." His head snapped up. "You need to get up here right now," he said gravely.
"I—" A sudden thought struck Holly like a splash of cold water. "Butler—is it Artemis?"
He spoke quietly.
"Yes."
Her heart clenched.
"D'arvit, Butler, don't make us drag it out of you piecemeal," Foaly said, and then whinnied. "What the heck happened? Does this have anything to do with the probing?"
Domovoi's face tightened at that. "Just come to the Manor and I'll expl—"
Holly had had enough. She slammed a powerful fist down on the table. "No way in Hybras are we waiting any longer! You are going to tell me!" she growled. "NOW! "
That was her (quote, unquote) 'scary voice', and it worked the same way as a mesmer did. That is, with immediate compliance.
Domovoi found his voice. "Foaly," he said quietly. "Is this connection secure?"
The centaur was thrown for a second—so thrown, in fact, he forgot to be offended at the question of his devices. "Yeah, sure. No one else has connections to the Manor. Why?"
"Butler, what happened?" That was Holly, growling.
Domovoi took a breath, and suddenly Holly knew, with a thrill of foreboding, this was the news, the terrible news—
"Artemis..." Butler spoke slowly, hollowly. "Artemis is gone."
Something dropped, plummeted, inside of Holly, something that felt very familiar, and something she was pretty sure that she needed, something vital. . .
"I'll tell you." He looked unfathomably, inexplicably weary. This was a fatigue deeper than bone--it went to the soul. "I'll tell you all I can."
Two Days Ago, Fowl Manor
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In light of his bodyguard duties, Butler had chosen a room near Artemis's bedroom. 'Near' meaning, right next door.
At first, this arrangement had annoyed Artemis, as the genius had a tendency to wake up in the middle of the night and wander around the house. There were two reasons for this: One, inspiration would hit Artemis in his dreams, and he just had to go write it down, no matter how late. And two, sometimes Artemis just wanted to be alone.
Both of which were apparently impossible when your bodyguard followed you. For your safety, of course.
But after some very convincing logical arguments, Butler had won and stayed right where he was. And Artemis had learned to walk so quietly even fairies, with their naturally keener hearing, from their naturally bigger ears, couldn't hear him approach.
But on that one night, it hadn't mattered.
"Aaaaa—!"
The walls were so thin that on that night, Butler heard the cut-off scream. He knew the voice. Nothing else could have spurred him out of bed so quickly, a scream from Artemis.
But when he reached the room, he was too late. Always too late.
Throwing open the door, he—
Stopped.
The room was empty.
The window was open, curtains fluttering, and the cold breeze of February blew through the room. The room, always so neat, so tidy, in typical Artemis fashion, now had sheets and pillows flung on the floor. As if someone had flailed in the covers.
In the middle of the bare bed, on the white cotton fabric, were a few scarlet dots, splattered. Tiny bloodstains, nothing fatal.
And right next to the bloodstains was Artemis's fairy communicater. A thin ring, illegally given to him by Holly Short. That has to mean something, Domovoi thought in a detached, unreal manner. None of this seemed real, like a nightmare. He never takes it off. There must be a meaning to that.
These, the blood and the fairy ring, were all that had been left behind by their owner.
Artemis was gone.
Present, Haven City
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Domovoi stopped speaking. He'd told them a condensed version of what had happened that night, omitting the roiling emotions and fear that had torn through him. They didn't need to hear that.
"What do you mean, he's....?" Holly sat down sharply. "He's not dead!" Artemis Fowl, dead in such an unspectacular manner, quietly—impossible. Her head snapped up. "Is he?"
Butler was never one to mince or sugarcoat words, despite his kind heart. "We have no idea," he said.
"So he's just..." Holly closed her eyes. "Missing?"
And then everyone exploded. Loudly.
"He's not—"
"How the—"
"We've got to—"
"And what do you want us to do?" Surprisingly, Vinyaya stood up at this. She continued, "And what can we do? This is not our problem. What the humans do is not our concern, and if they're our friends it's a different story, but at the moment—"
"What?" Holly shot her a look as she realized what the Commander was saying. "This is our friend. We can't just leave this alone!"
"Holly." Vinyaya put her hands softly on the table and looked Holly in the eyes. "Yes, he's our friend. I've met him, Holly, and I have to admit I even like him at times, but the point is—"
"He's our one of our only human allies," Foaly added. "Vinyaya, we can't afford to lose him."
"Listen to me!" Vinyaya said sharply. "This is not the priority! Artemis Fowl is not the priority! We have a crisis on our hands, if you haven't forgotten!"
Oh.
"The probing," Foaly said, looking torn. They all had the same expression—unsettled and ripped between two decisions. Their friend or their people.
"If Artemis was here. . ." Holly's eyes moved from face to face. "He'd solve this."
"We..." Foaly bit his lip. "Holly, we can't—"
"Who probed us?" Vinyaya said. "Last time he solved this because it was him. He'd probed us, even if it was accidentally. Since he's gone, and he was—is on relatively good terms with the People, it's not him this time."
"He could still figure out who it was," Holly argued.
"Captain Short." Vinyaya walked over to her and put a hand on the auburn-haired elf's shoulder. The Wing Commander spoke gently. "I understand you're worried. I know you care about him." Holly jerked slightly, hardly noticeably. "He's your friend, after all, and if I've understood this correctly, you've saved each other's lives repeatedly."
"Commander—" Holly said, working to keep her face straight.
"I understand that completely. Jul—" Vinyaya broke off. "Commander Root and I were much the same way. We saved each other's lives more than once, more than twice, actually." A faint smile crossed her face, like she remembered a long-forgotten inside joke. "But we never let that get in the way of what we had to do. We were there, risking our lives, to save our People."
She...she really cared about him, Holly thought. Something like a sadness filled her up inside, covering the frantic worry. I never knew.
"So, Captain Short," Vinyaya said, her voice switching to a brisk mode. "Our personal troubles are nothing compared to the People's safety. We have to remember that, or, frankly, we'll go insane."
That startled a grin out of Holly.
"That's it," Vinyaya said, smiling at Holly's expression. "We'll help Artemis, Captain Short, but only after this crisis."
The grin faded.
"It's probably only a false alarm," Foaly added. "Remember the incident of '44? Pixies and their fish, I swear."
Vinyaya shot him a look, like—Back off. She turned back to Holly, silver hair falling to the side in a stream. "Okay, Holly?" she said softly.
Holly took in a breath, and slowly let it out in a sigh. For the People. Always for the People. Sometimes she wished the People could save its own self. It was in trouble far too often. Well, she thought with a mental sigh, it's what I signed up for when I got in Recon, I guess.
"Alright, Commander," she said quietly.
With something like a nod, Vinyaya smiled. Turning around, she started walking back to her seat.
"And—Commander?" Holly said.
Vinyaya turned around, arching her eyebrow slightly.
"It's Major Short, now," Holly said.
Domovoi felt—well, he didn't know what he felt. Worry, certainly. Fear for Artemis, of course.
But he was surprised (another emotion) to feel. . .anger. And hurt. He was far too disciplined to show it, but it was a close thing. The fairies would ignore a cry for help, from one of their friends, for the sake of a crisis. He understood why, but that didn't make it hurt any less.
Guilt also played a part.
"You'd..." Domovoi stopped.
Everyone turned to his screen. They'd forgotten he was there, in all of the drama happening around--and to-- Holly. Expressions flitted across each of their faces—mostly guilt, sadness, and even pity. Vinyaya was hit with it the worst of it; Domovoi could see that in her body language, even though her face was perfectly under control.
"Oh," she said, and her eyes tightened. Saving the People required sacrifices. "We. . .I'm so sor--"
"Don't." The words sounded harsh even to his own ears. "Just—don't."
"Butler," Holly said quietly. She didn't know what to say. "I'm. . ."
"Mr. and Mrs. Fowl are leaving this evening," Domovoi interrupted. His voice was lifeless. "I've managed to make excuses for the past two days over Artemis's disappearance." They all flinched. "Juliet's helped with the charade; the family thinks that Artemis is sick with flu in bed, sleeping."
Flu, Holly thought. Just like Artemis's mother supposedly had. It's a wonder his parents didn't notice he's gone, they should be worried he'd caught the same thing as his mum. Juliet must be a good actor. Holly had a mental picture of Juliet huddled under the covers, trying to imitate Artemis's cultured voice and coughing occasionally.
Domovoi continued in his dead voice. "Angeline and Artemis Senior are leaving with the twins for France tonight. They're going to visit the Paradizo's. I've managed to convince them that Artemis will be fine staying behind with Juliet and me, but they're going to say good-byes to him. That means they're going to have to see his face."
"What do you want us to do?" Foaly said quietly.
"I'll go," N°1 said. "I can make a hallucinational conjuration of Artemis. They'd never know the difference."
"You're not going,"Qwan said.
"What? Why not?"
"Last time you went above ground, my star student was stuffed in a barrel of fat, a time paradox was created, we now have two Opal's in this world, and there was no one to stir my coffee." Qwan liked coffee. Preferably with lots of sugar, even though the coffee beans were scientifically proven to be detrimental to your health.
"I have to go," N°1 said. "This is all I can do."
"Nope," Qwan said, "I'm going. It's been ages since I've felt proper ground beneath my feet. And you, my pupil, while exceptional at hallucinational conjurations, can't do the voices."
"I am too," Holly said decisively. Then, looking at the expression on Vinyaya's and Foaly's faces, she added, "It'll only be for two hours, round trip. And like N°1 said, it's all I can do."
Slowly, Vinyaya nodded. Some battles were won by retreating.
"It's settled, then, " Domovoi said, and the screen died to black as he severed the connection.
Present, Undisclosed Location
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Knowing big words comes with being a genius. It's a given.
Phantasmagoria.
A shifting series of illusions, like a fever. Images flitted over your eyes and mind, and then flitted away. Imagination worked against you. Memories whirled through your consciousness—the good, the bad, and the regrets in your past.
Sometimes his mother was there, in her insane fits, with the smell of sick lilies, not recognizing her own son...
Holly was there, looking at Artemis, mouth open wide, with contempt for a criminal burning in her eyes...
His father, in the hospital bed with a prosthetic leg, asking him: "When the time comes, will you do the right thing?" Artemis didn't know, didn't know...
Fractured images. Yes, that's what Artemis would call it.
Phantasmagoria.
The one time he emerged from this state was—as he later worked out—the one time the drugs wore off.
And then, of course, they'd drugged him again. The mysterious 'they.' A sharp stab of a needle, and he was gone again, victim to the swirling blackness.
But not before he'd seen a brief flash of pointy ears.
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A/N: For the readers who could maturely take the suspense and not immediately skip over the drama to the punchline (you know, Arty missing and all that), you get brownie points. Kudos to you.
Ha ha—of course he's missing! EVERYONE kidnaps Arty, haven't you realized that? It's like a recreational activity. A sport for villains. But I bet you can't guess who kidnapped him, heh heh...
I'm going to rewrite this chap later, so I'd like some critique, please. (As said before, my beta reader has left me, so if any of you have suggestions, readers, I'd be grateful...)
