Sorry for the wait, things are piling up!

The plot thickens. And yes, to answer the question, this fic will be posted in its entirety before I go. If only because I like to stress myself out.

Hip hip hurrah for Ilex-ferox!

January 8th, 2011, Heyer's Antiques and Rarities, London, England

Holly and Artemis stared at each other across the skylight.

'Did you hear what I just heard?'

'I believe so, yes.' Even precariously balanced, he could manage a pithy comeback and sardonic eyebrow.

Absent-mindedly, Holly smacked him for his condescension, her face creased in thought. 'Well, at least we know who framed me. I wondered, to be honest.' She paused, gnawing on her lip, 'After all, who would bother framing me? The only reason anyone outside the force would know of me would be through press releases, 'specially with that stupid Goblin Rebellion film coming out. I can understand the angry e-notes, but I can't see anyone being mad enough at me to go to such lengths as this.'

'What angry e-notes?' Artemis asked, wondering vaguely how anyone could in all seriousness dislike Holly.

'Oh, you know, it was just ... well ...' Holly rolled onto her back, looking up at the cloudy sky, 'I wasn't exactly the most popular civil servant around, for a while there. My ransom took a hefty chunk of tax-payers' gold, after all. Some people wondered, rather vocally, if the "crazy girly captain" was worth it. Which is fair enough, I guess.'

'"Fair enough"? That's outrageous! How could they justify being angry with you when I was the one who kidnapped you and stole the gold? If it weren't for you they'd not have got half of it back at all,' Artemis propped himself up on his elbows, full of self-righteous indignation. 'Not to mention, I could have kidnapped anyone!'

'Ah, but you didn't, did you?' She rolled back onto her stomach and smiled at him. 'And people can justify just about anything, Artemis. You ought to know that. You've got how many degrees in psychology?'

'None,' Artemis replied huffily. 'I just like to read.'

Silence descended for a moment. Artemis' stomach felt somewhat like it had been set on by a pack of hungry rodents and Holly was trying to make up her mind as to whether or not he deserved to hear what she wanted to say next. She decided that he did.

'Besides, Artemis, really, I ...' she shrugged with one shoulder, 'a lot of things have changed since then. You not the least of them. After all, if you hadn't kidnapped me, who would have saved us from Opal? You wouldn't believe the horrible letters people sent me when I was first accepted into the LEP; I can deal with a few more catty letters.'

'Well, you shouldn't have to,' Artemis mumbled, feeling abashed.

Holly was touched, despite herself. 'Thanks, Mud – Artemis.'

'Artemis?' Much to Artemis' relief, Butler's voice rising from the balcony took away the need for him to reply. Inter-personal relations were still not his forte, especially where Holly was concerned. What do you say to a woman you've kidnapped, lied to, managed to embroil in various cases of lost digits, and who could be, nonetheless, your best friend?

'We're still here, Butler. Don't worry, Holly hasn't pushed me off into the road quite yet.'

'Don't tempt me,' she chuckled.

'Best swing yourself down, Artemis, before you say something to change her mind. I'll catch you,' said Butler's disembodied voice.

Grimacing, Artemis inched to the edge of the roof, gingerly letting his legs dangle down into the air. Holly followed close behind, clearly doubting his motor skills. But Butler caught him without mishap, and, just as the giant man was straightening to do the same for Holly, she landed gracefully on her feet. Artemis was tempted to make a face. He limited his envy to a slight, disgruntled twitch of hi nose.

Holly laughed at him. Insult to injury.

January 8th, 2011, Claridge's Hotel, London, England

Back at the hotel, Mulch was enjoying their seventy-two inch, flat-screen, satellite television. So much so that, once they had told him what he had missed, he wondered he wouldn't have preferred to keep watching it rather listening to them. Though he had to hand it to them, they were definitely much more interesting than day-time programming.

'I dunno,' he said, twirling a bit of beard around one square finger, 'if the daughters of Dvalin and his brothers are involved, this might turn ugly. Freya's got a nasty temper on her, or so I've read, and I can tell you from personal experience that those four girls aren't exactly zen masters either. Not to mention Loki: I wouldn't want to get within twenty kilometres of something he's involved in. It's just asking for trouble.'

'Says the convicted felon. One of whose convictions involves assaulting an officer, I might add.'

'Holly, a carrot is hardly a weapon of-'

Butler cleared his throat. The two fairies turned to him, mouths open to insult each other. 'Yes?' they asked simultaneously.

'I was just wondering if either of you could explain to me exactly who Loki and these four dwarf girls are. If it wouldn't be too much trouble.' Butler's eyebrows hiked themselves a few centimetres up his forehead, intimating that it had better not be too much trouble.

The cop and the criminal shared a despairing look.

'It's not his fault,' Holly said sympathetically. 'He is a Mud Man.'

'But still,' Mulch shook his head, 'you'd have to be living under a pretty fronddamn big rock.'

'Technically,' Artemis interjected, 'it's you two that have been living under the rocks.'

'That's right, Artemis,' Mulch nodded, 'rub it in, rub it in.'

Butler cleared his throat again.

'Loki is another supposed Norse god,' Holly cut to the chase. 'He's actually a pixie, but there's no accounting for humans and their eyesight. Anyway, he was the Norse trickster god. More or less. In reality, he's a bastard son of some nobleman and the last Queen, who liked – likes - getting into trouble.'

'Likes hardly covers it,' Mulch grumbled.

Holly nodded. 'He is a bit ... excessive. Let's just say, he makes Mulch look like a model citizen.'

'That bad, huh?' Butler asked.

'You've no idea,' Holly ran a hair through her hair.

'Gee, thanks,' Mulch sulked.

Holly ignored him. 'As for the dwarves: you remember how I said Brísingamen was made by four dwarves? Well, they each had a daughter, as luck would have it, and they're all named after their fathers, Alfrigg, Dvalin, Berling and Grerr. The daughters are Alfrigga, Dvalina, Berle and Grerrida. They're quite the upper echelons party goers. Trouble knows them. Says they're surprisingly attractive despite the beards. Mind you, Trouble did sleep with that secretary from the Atlantean Embassy, so I'm not sure if his opinions count.' Holly pursed her lips frowning at the opposite wall, her thoughts clearly wandering.

'Why would these four dwarves, attractive or otherwise, be interested in Brísingamen?' Butler asked, forcing them back onto topic.

'Well, aside from its obvious value, they see it as theirs. There was a whole press pavlaver when it was rediscovered. Both Freyja and the girls were claiming it for their own. The girls don't seem to consider four nights of wild goings on as adequate payment, if you follow me,' Mulch waggled his eyebrows.

'Therefore, our questions now are: if these dwarves stole Brísingamen, where are the other two pieces, how would Loki get his hands on one of the pieces and why would they divide it up at all?' Artemis paused a moment. 'I suppose they might divide it up to split equally between the four of them - rather like King Solomon.'

'Who?' asked Mulch.

'Now you know how it feels,' Butler muttered.

'Well, I don't know how he did it but I'm not at all surprised Loki managed to get his hands on a piece. He could steal the wings off a sprite,' Holly shrugged.

Artemis hmmed thoughtfully.

'Well, this is all very fascinating, but I still say this is getting iffy. I dunno about you guys but I don't really want end up on Loki's black list. That's downright dangerous.' Mulch flapped his hands a bit to emphasise his point.

'Right,' Holly scoffed, 'because hanging around with Artemis is usually so safe and relaxing.'

'I'm just saying-'

'Well, quit saying and get cracking, we've got a house party to crash.'

'There's no point in rushing of just yet, Holly. I would like to do a little research on the Doyle's estate before we go. Since this time we can't very well call up Foaly and ask him to give us its blueprints, it is imperative that we know as much as we can about the layout if we are to steal back the necklace ourselves.'

'Wha - wait a minute now, who said anything about stealing?' Holly crossed her arms, glaring.

'Funnily enough, you know, I believe I did,' Artemis replied, pretending to stroke his still beardless chin in deep thought. 'And, as I was saying, in order to break in and get the piece out before Lili does, it will be necessary to know our way around. We know Lili is catching the evening train. She won't be arriving in Edinburgh until eleven thirty at the earliest as it is, plus the time it takes her to get out to the property. Therefore, I would suggest we go in a little after midnight, if the house has gone to sleep. So, if we might begin our preparations? Holly?'

A growl was Holly's final word on the subject.

'I thought you'd say that,' Artemis replied with a seraphic smile.

Silently, Holly began strangling the air.

Butler looked about as thrilled. If not less so.

'Actually,' said Artemis, as Butler and Holly were cleaning out their various weapons, 'for once we've had a bit of luck-'

Holly knocked superstitiously on the coffee table she sat at. Artemis gave her a withering look. She shrugged. 'You have some seriously bad karma, Artemis. No point making it worse.'

'As I was saying,' Artemis continued, huffily, 'we're in luck. The magazine Freya mentioned has their entire article on the Doyle's estate online. It includes everything from directions to a link to the local archives which, you'll be pleased to know, have scanned and uploaded their copy of the castle blue prints and grounds onto the internet. Apparently the Doyles enjoy a slight celebrity in the world of European cheese-makers. They specialise in Gouda.'

'Fascinating,' Holly replied, clearly far from riveted.

'Always good to have a little background, Holly,' Artemis chided.

'Personally, right now, I'd prefer a plan of action but, you know, that could just be me,' Holly shot back.

Artemis nearly pouted. 'I'm getting there,' he replied snippily.

January 8th, 2011, Edinburgh, Scotland

The flight to Edinburgh, and the subsequent drive out to Lady Doyle's, were uncharacteristically quiet. Artemis had concocted a plan, as requested, and Holly had learnt, once again, to watch what she wished for. In fact, the only person who entirely pleased with the plan was Mulch: mainly because it featured him staying out of sight in a tunnel.

Butler was to stay in the car as the getaway driver. Parked on the outskirts of the grounds, he would wait while Mulch chomped his way beneath an Elizabethan maze, a Moorish water feature and a topiary garden (whose crowning glory – according to Better Gnomes and Gardens – was an ten foot yew duck) until he arrived in the cheese cellar.

Holly and Artemis would follow Mulch, slip out of the cheese cellar, from where it would be a quick ascent to the first floor and the library, which sat directly above the cellar.

Which, of course, was why Butler wasn't pleased with the situation. Why Artemis needed to leave the car at all was beyond him.

'Because I know the floor plan,' his charge had explained.

'What? Holly can't follow directions?'

'Obviously that is not the case. I would simply rather not take the chance of her getting lost. The faster we get this done the faster I will be back in the car, safe and sound.'

'I've seen the plans as well. I could go isntead.'

Artemis affected shocked surprise. 'But then who would guard me, sitting all alone and defenceless in the car? Besides, if we are interrupted, Holly is bringing along camfoil. I can fit under it, but you certainly couldn't. Therefore, I am going. I'll have Holly, won't I? She'll take care of me.'

Holly smiled in a way that was scarily reminiscent of Artemis. 'Your faith in me is touching, Mud Boy.'

Artemis quirked an eyebrow. 'Sometimes, Holly, I'm afraid your bark is worse than your bite, as they say.'

'Is that so? Well then, this won't hurt at all.' She punched him just above the elbow. He gasped, winced, and clutched his arm.

Holly shook her head, smiling fondly. 'I don't think that will ever get old. There's for making me a thief, Fowl.' Which was why Holly was unhappy about his plan.

So there they were: four mute creatures in a black sedan driving through the outskirts of Edinburgh. There have been cheerier funeral processions.

January 9th, 2011, The Doyle Estate, Edinburgh, Scotland

The tunnel from the car to the cheese cellar was particularly long and, despite Mulch's assurances that the dirt was very tasty, extremely unpleasant. Artemis wondered if perhaps he shouldn't have let Butler go in his stead. Of course, his real reason for coming had been that, had he stayed safely in the car, he would have been bored out of his mind. Surely a little dirt was worth it? Artemis sighed to himself. He used to be such a sensible child.

'Ah-righ',' Mulch said around a mouthful of dirt, 'we ah' he-ah. Ehwebo-eh ou'.'

'Thank Frond,' muttered Holly, hauling herself out onto the floor. Artemis joined her quickly, eager to be out of the tunnel and let Mulch go about expelling whatever gases needed to be expelled. As he watched her shake tunnel dirt from her short hair, Artemis caught Holly's eye and she pulled a face. Silently, he nodded in agreement.

'Let's get out of here,' she said, jerking her thumb towards the door. 'Which way are the stairs?'

'To the right.' Artemis poked his head back into the tunnel, 'We shouldn't be long, Mulch.'

'Yeah, like I've never heard that one before,' came Mulch's disembodied and sceptical voice.

'He's got a point,' Holly said, as she and Artemis stuck their heads into the corridor. 'Things never go as they should where you're involved.'

'We're all still alive, aren't we?' Artemis shrugged.

'Hope you don't mind if I don't hold my breath,' Holly retorted. 'What about CCTV, or some other kind of surveillance network, Artemis?'

He slanted a look at her. 'The Doyle's are picnic-loving cheese makers. Not mafia kingpins. Nothing I came across mentioned any.'

'Still ...' Holly glanced up the dark hall. 'You stay here a minute, I'll shield and check for cameras. The kit Foaly gave me had a distortion strip in it. For ten minutes all the cameras will pick up is static.'

All Holly found was a small security camera wired above the far door. Despite its pitiful coverage, Holly dutifully clambered onto the rim of a large oriental pot holding a drooping fern, and reached up, wiring the distortion strip into place. After a second, she unshielded, beckoning to Artemis.

Even with the cover of Foaly's technology, it was still a nerve-wracking four minutes before they made it to the library. But, when Artemis tried the handle, its door swung open without resistance. Without hesitation, the pair slipped inside.

Taking a quick look around, they made their way past the bookcases, through the neatly arranged furniture, towards a row of spindly-legged display cases tucked below the far windows. In the middle case, glittering in the dim light of the moon through the white linen curtains, was the piece of Brísingamen.

Holly brought out her omnitool, crouching to get at the tiny lock embedded at the bottom of the glass case. But, just as her finger brushed the 'on' button, there came the sound of a knob turning. Reflexively, the elf grabbed her human companion, toppling them both sideways under a writing desk sitting against the side wall. With a practiced flick, the camfoil billowed out, hiding them completely. As awkwardly and uncomfortably squeezed together as they were, they were at least small enough to be safe under the protective sheet.

The whole manoeuvre took less than five seconds and, just as Artemis got enough breath back to open his mouth and complain, the library door opened.

Two women entered, closing the door softly behind them. As they crossed the floor to where Artemis and Holly had been standing mere seconds before, Artemis was glad the camfoil kept him from view as he stared at them. Both women sported beards past their shoulders and, if that wasn't more than enough hair for such tiny people, thick curls of unruly red hair stuck out from their dark toques. Artemis had once thought that there was no possible way any living creature could be hairier than Mulch Diggums. He now realised just how wrong he had been.

'Hurry up, Berle,' hissed the shorter of the two dwarves. 'It's freezing up here.'

' Name of Tara, we've got all night, Grerrida. Get a hold of yourself.' The other dwarf ignored her cousin's melodramatic shivering, concentrating on fiddling with the hair she was inserting into the case's lock.

Berle's 'Aha!' of success was interrupted by the sudden arrival of someone through the windows.

'Berle!' whispered a shocked Lili Frond. 'Grerrida! What are you two doing here?'

'What are we doing here? What are you doing here?' Grerrida drew herself up proudly.

'What do you think I'm doing here? Taking back what you stole! Speaking of which, what are you after Brísingamen for?'

The dwarves stared at her, clearly flabbergasted.

'Frond, you really are a blonde,' Berle sneered. 'Why wouldn't we be after Brísingamen? It's rightfully ours! Why are you after it? You stole it once already, didn't you? And what the Frond was that batty great-aunt of yours thinking, anyway, breaking it into pieces like this?'

Lili blinked. 'What? But it was you who-'

'THIEVES!'

In shocked unison, five heads swung to face the library door: two dwarves, two elves and one human. What they saw, silhouetted in the light of the hall, were two very short and clean-shaven women wearing pyjamas and dressing-gowns. One of them pointed was dramatically pointing an accusing finger at the visible assembly of housebreakers.

'D'Arvit,' swore Lili as she leapt for the windows, vanishing into the night.

'Alfrigga, you traitor!' Berle's nostrils flared. Artemis heard Holly swallow expressively. 'What are you doing here? Staying the night? You little mud-lover, don't you have any shame?'

'Look at their faces! Little brown-nosers have even shaved! Ew!' Grerrida wrinkled her button nose, putting both hands to her beard as though for reassurance.

The taller of the two dwarves in the doorway tut-tutted, stepping into the library. 'Not if it gets me what I want, cousin dearest.'

Voices could be heard coming down the hall.

'You'd better hurry and run, cousins,' the other newcomer smiled. Her eyes lingered a moment on the windowsill Lili had so recently vacated.

The two bearded dwarves looked at each other, the sounds of approaching humans were very near now, and, with one final curse flung at their cousins, followed Lili out of the window.

'Quick!' said Dvalina, darting forward to the case. 'They'll be here in a second.'

'Hide it under the cushions,' her cousin whispered, gesturing to the overstuffed couch beside them. 'We can come back for it before the police get here.'

'Are you sure that's-' Dvalina held Brísingamen in one sleeve covered hand.

'Where else'll we put it?' Alfrigga gestured eloquently to their filmy pyjamas. 'If it weren't for those two getting in our way-' she broke off as the first of the humans entered the room.

'Thieves? Did you say thieves? Where?' A plump woman with flyaway hair stood in the doorway, clutching her housecoat to her.

'Irene! Yes! Thieves! We were in the hall, you know how we have trouble sleeping, and hear noises, we caught them in the act, but they escaped through the window.' Alfrigga opened her eyes very wide as her cousin straightened from hastily stuffing Brísingamen under a cushion.

'Oh, goodness me! Conan, did you hear that?'

'Sorry, dear, what?' Half-dressed and yawning, the rail-thin form of Lady Doyle's husband appeared in the doorway, followed by several other guests all in various states of undress.

'Thieves!'

'In the library? Don't be ridiculous, Irene. There's no cheese up here.' Doyle rubbed his eyes, frowning.

'They weren't after cheese,' Dvalina worked hard to keep the disparaging note out of her voice.

'Really?' Lord Doyle perked up considerably at this. 'What did they take then? Marvellous, a proper robbery at last!'

Alfrigga discreetly rolled her eyes.

'I hardly think breaking and entering qualifies as marvellous, dear,' Irene Doyle frowned.

'What did they take?' One of the other guests, a bony woman with plaid slippers and a limp, asked eagerly.

'The opals,' Dvalina replied, her face taking on a look of deep regret.

A collective gasp arose from group. And then everyone began talking at once.

After a few minutes of cacophony, where the most one got out of any given sentence went something along the lines of:

'-such a lovely shade of-'

'-they insured? Somehow, I-'

'-possibly have taken-'

'-calm down, Mrs. Christie. It's just-'

'-murdered in our beds-'

Lord Doyle shouted for silence. Eventually, he got it.

'All right,' he was a little out of breath from having shouted everyone down, 'I am going to call the police. If, perhaps, we could all retire to the Red Room, I'll have some tea sent up.'

It was, of course, another ten minutes before everyone was out of the library, Alfrigga and Dvalina in particular asking repeatedly whether it wouldn't be better if they stayed to keep an eye on things until the police arrived? It wouldn't be a bother, not at all. Well, only if you're sure.

Lord Doyle was sure. He herded everyone out of the library with commendable patience and locked the door behind him.

For a few moments the library echoed with the sounds of the crowd that had just left it.

'Well, that was interesting,' Holly and Artemis spoke in unison, as the last sounds of the humans died away. There was a surprised silence. Artemis slanted a look at his elfin counterpart – easier said than done, as she had got stuck upside down under the desk and her head and chest were under his bent legs. Holly shrugged with one shoulder and used his leg as leverage to shunt herself out into the open.

'So much for Lili's theory about the dwarves,' Artemis added as he scrambled to his feet, wincing as he caught his head against an ornate corner.

'Yes,' agreed Holly, sitting up and reaching for the camfoil. 'Which means we're back at square one. If the dwarves didn't steal Brísingamen, who did?'

'A fair few people possibly. However, why don't we discuss this in a few minutes, once we are quite safe again?' Artemis raised his eyebrows.

'Was that caution I just heard from the great Artemis Fowl?' Holly teased, stowing the foil back in her kit.

'I don't know what you're talking about, Captain, I'm a very cautious person.'

''Course you are. And I'm King Frond V,' Holly replied.

Artemis sighed. Without bothering to answer, he crossed to the couch, pushing aside the cushions and pulling out the second piece of Brísingamen.

'Time to go, then?' Holly asked, examining the opals he held.

'My thoughts exactly.'

'You always were so predictable,' she winked at him.

'You weren't saying that when you were locked in my cellar,' he shot back.

She laughed at him, pulling out her communicator. 'Mulch? Hey, change of plan, we'll meet you at the car. No, no, we've got it, it's just ... mm, well, let's say the halls are a bit crowded right now. Okay. Yes, yes, see you.'

'No, I didn't think we would be able to use the halls,' Artemis nodded in agreement.

'See, what did I tell you? Predictable.'

'Fortunately for me, only to you, so far.'

'O lucky, lucky me. Come on, Mud Boy, quit hanging around, we've got some climbing to do.' Holly drew aside the curtains, turning back to him with a grin so evil he was sure he had once seen it in the mirror.

'We're not-' he gestured hopelessly at the windows.

'Oh yes, we are.'

Artemis could have sworn she cackled.