A/N: Hello Autumn! Apologies etc. for the long gap. Took me three attempts to write this chapter but I got there in the end.

Full thanks go to CieloCrimisi for beta-ing and beta-ing... and beta-ing this chapter. YOU WIN... A PRIZE OF SOME SORT! (sorry, but you don't win Butler/Tuley smut because that would be several levels of nasty.) Feel free to attempt it yourself - you may have full ownership of that pairing. What would it be called? Buley? Tutler? A 'Tutler' fic? That sounds... wrong somehow. Which figures - BECAUSE IT WOULD BE!O_o

Disclaimer - Jeez, Louise! I just ain't Eoin Colfer!

Soundtrack - Time after Time by Quiet Drive & Fuego by Pitbull. (Guess which couple goes with which song, lol)

Dedication - To rosejack617, for possibly spoiling her softball game, and to Ru-Doragon because no doubt your review for this chapter will be just as pissed-off, and frankly hilarious, as the last one.

'Stolen? What has he stolen?'

'My one spark of decency.'

She hefted herself on top of him again, pinning his shoulders with her hands. 'No, I don't mean the lemur. You'd told me you'd stolen a lemur.'

Artemis was getting impatient.

'Well what then?'

She shoved her face down to his.

'You never told me you'd stolen a fairy.'

Chapter Nine - Daffodils and Picasso

'What?'

'A fairy,' insisted Annie. 'You stole a fairy!'

'What on Earth are you talking about?'

She sprang from him and made for her bag on the other side of the room.

'Callum gave me the video,' she said, ferreting about inside the knapsack. 'His mum was at that Extinctionist thing in Morocco and she told him all about it. One her friends managed to catch a bit of it on camera – thought she could get some money for it from the press.' Annie giggled darkly. 'Apparently all she got was a puncture wound to the leg from a rampaging pygmy-rhino.'

'Aha!' She pulled the tape free. Artemis snatched it from her hand, striding to the computer and loading it quickly into the player.

'Why was Callum's mother at the meeting?' he asked.

Annie shrugged, coming to lean on the back on his chair. 'Cal told me she'd caught herself another rich stiff, a Count this time, really into killing things. Guess she fancied playing along for a little while.'

'Contessa Irina,' murmured Artemis. 'Hmm, that does have something of a ring to it.'

A new window opened on the screen and the video started playing. It was shaky and of terrible quality, but clearly depicted the inside of an opulent dinner chamber. A blurred figure moved just within the focus of the camera.

'People say that we Extinctionists hate animals. But this is not the case. We do not hate poor dumb animals, rather we love humans...'

'Kronski,' muttered Artemis.

Annie looked closer at the picture. 'The crazy looking guy?'

'Mhm. A complete lunatic.'

'Why should humans starve when dumb animals grow fat? Why should humans freeze when beasts lie toasty warm in their coats of fur?'

'Really, Doctor Kronski,' spoke another figure. 'I have read several variations on this speech. Every year, it seems, you trot out the same simplistic arguments. Can we please focus on the creature before us tonight?'

'Who is that?' snapped Artemis.

Annie leant closer, swivelling the chair. 'Pasteur Malachy. He's on the fairy's side.'

Kronski puffed out his chest and bellowed at his audience. 'This is not what we're about, people! We did not travel all this way for some petty verbal sparring. This is what the Extinctionists are about.' The fat Louisianan flung out his arm, pointing to what looked like a child tied to a nursery chair. 'Ridding our planet of creatures like this.'

'There!' Annie stretched over Artemis's shoulder and jabbed her finger at the screen. 'The fairy!'

The boy beneath her cocked an eyebrow. Annie's so-called "fairy" was female, from what he could tell, and dressed in a full-length abaya. He could not distinguish much else apart from that; she, he or it wasn't in particularly good focus... but wait. Its eyes were moving. Artemis followed their line of sight, watching as the tiny pupils flicked every so often to the man who had spoken second, to that Pasteur whoever...

Pasteur slammed his fist to the table. 'But this creature is magical! We have all heard how she can turn invisible. Even now her mouth is taped so she cannot hypnotize us. Imagine the power we could wield if we were to unlock the secrets of these gifts...'

'That guy is so cool,' whispered Annie. 'I don't know how anyone can say something that mental and still–'

Artemis hushed her impatiently.

'We have tried to interrogate her. Our best men tried and she told us nothing.'

'It is difficult to talk with a taped mouth.'

'Point to Pasteur!'

'Annie, please.

The crowd was roaring now. Kronski stood tall before them, his speech finished, his arms outstretched like a royal hailing his people. The camera angle swung erratically as its technician joined the cheering and Annie and Artemis were treated to a rollercoaster view around the room. The stage flashed away to be replaced by a view of the guards positioned on the balcony above, then down to the rattling dinner table, then up to rest briefly on each frenzied Extinctionist face until eventually they were back at the platform where the grim-faced 'fairy' and the mysterious Pasteur were watching the fervour die down in silence.

'I was hoping to spare you this, Doctor,' said Pasteur, stepping out from behind the podium. 'Because I respect you so much.'

'Spare me what, Master Pasteur?'

'You know what. I think you have pulled the wool over everyone's eyes long enough.'

'And what wool would that be?' said Kronski and Artemis together.

'Are you certain you want me to continue?'

'He's got him,' whispered Annie. 'Look at him, he's loving it.'

Ten-year-old Artemis was indeed looking. He was watching the expression on Pasteur's face with a sense of deepening unease. It was uncanny, or unheimlich as Freud would have said; he had seen that look before.

'As you wish,' continued Pasteur. 'This creature was not our original defendant. Up until yesterday we had a lemur–'

'Key word – had.'

Artemis flung his hand back and clasped it over Annie's mouth.

Pasteur continued. 'I say we had a lemur, but in truth we almost had a lemur. It went missing at the pick-up. Then, and this is important, then we were sold this creature by the same boy who almost sold us the lemur...'

'What?' breathed Artemis.

'This boy keeps his lemur and sells us a supposed fairy.'

Murmurs had broken out amongst the crowd and the screen trembled with the disturbance.

'See?' said Annie, pulling his hand away. 'He said you sold him a fairy.'

Artemis was incredulous. 'I sold him a lemur, certainly. It was a smooth exchange, over in a matter of seconds. I did not, at any point in the proceedings, stop and offer him a fairy, or whatever trumped-up hoax is strapped to that chair.'

Annie frowned and both pairs of eyes returned to the screen.

'Examine the thing yourself,' Kronski was saying, his tone petulant. 'This is an easy argument to win.'

'Thank you, Doctor. I believe I shall.'

The younger Artemis bent towards the screen, his whole body tensed. On the one side of it Pasteur was posturing, gesturing to his phone, connecting it with a flourish to the overhead-screen: obviously playing to the crowd. Artemis ignored him. His attentions were fixed on the being in the chair. They were unmoving, their expression guarded.

I sold you? I sold you to Kronski?

Its – no, her, she is definitely female – hair was a most violent shade of red, stood up in flame-like spikes around a face so small, so... Silver suddenly flashed in his mind – the shine of a torch against a dozen strands of silver around a face so small, so... He blinked, surprised. Then Annie shifted behind him, jostling his seat, and the memory was lost almost as soon as it had come.

On screen Pasteur was building to his final conclusion.

Kronski appeared unimpressed. 'Do you have a point, Pasteur,' he drawled, 'or are you just showing us how clever you are?'

'Oh, I have a point Doctor. And the point is that were it not for the wideness of the brow and the pointed ears, this creature would seem remarkably like a little girl.'

'A pity about the ears and brow. But for them you would have an argument.'

'Precisely.' Pasteur moved his phone over the girl's head and on the large view-screen behind him grey shapes could be seen against her skull.

Artemis smirked. 'Implants.'

'Implants!' announced a triumphant Pasteur. 'Clearly the result of surgery. This fairy is a clever fake. You have tried to dupe us, Kronski.'

The room erupted into chaos as the crowd realised they'd been fooled. The camera's poor sound filter was overloaded, the view quickly blocked by dozens of angry bodies. The screen shook, crackled and blacked out.

Silence reigned. After a few brief moments, Annie spoke.

'Well,' she said, 'what do think about that?'

Artemis didn't reply. He got up and turned away from her, pacing the length of his room.

'Artemis?'

He flicked a hand at her, shaking his head.

Annie sighed. The window she'd left open had begun to creak in the evening wind so she walked over and grabbed the handle. She was about to pull it closed when she stopped. The grounds below her were silent; the fountain still, the bushes bird-less, the lawn bereft of the usual, sputtering motor-rumble as the gardener made his last nightly loop of the green. Holly moved to stand beside the girl, following her gaze down to the progress of a lone cat stalking between the eves. The animal stopped, as if startled, and stared up at the window. Its eyes glinted once against the dying light and then it was gone.

'Fairies.'

The girl yanked her arm back and the window slammed shut. 'What about 'em?'

'Well...' said Artemis, 'they don't exist.'

Annie rolled her eyes, giving the latch a final crank. 'Really? Give that boy a clap.'

'The whole idea of one existing, let alone being sold, is entirely ludicrous.'

'And yet, you did it! Typical Fowl.'

'But I didn't. That's the point I'm making. I just... but... then why...?'

Annie watched him. She could practically hear the thoughts colliding and fusing inside his head, taking image, taking shape, forming into something... something new – something irreversible.

'But then why do I believe it?' he whispered.

And then his hands were fists and he was striding towards his bookcase. 'Fairies,' he declared, fingers trailing across the spines. 'Sprites, nymphs, dwarves, kelpie, p'shog, ka-dulan, fadas, whichever language you prefer, in whichever country you care to mention; within every story in every culture: there are fairies.' With one quick pull a book fell free, thin and well worn. He cradled it in his palms. 'The Crock of Gold. My father used to read it to me as an infant. Up until now I had always considered it a fantasy, but–'

'But what?' interrupted Annie.

'But now I think... oh, I don't know. Something…'

The boy began to pace again, head bowed, eyes alight: a tiger in a cage. 'Fairies. Fairies. You know, I can't even remember having thought of them even once before but now two significant occurrences in less than one week. Strange. Uncanny! My thoughts on waking last Tuesday and now this. This... this...'

He trailed off and began to mutter incomprehensibly, eventually lapsing into silence. Annie observed him for a few minutes before growing irritated.

'Art.'

He ignored her.

'Art.'

The boy's lips brushed together soundlessly. Annie scowled and walked across the room.

'I'm using your loo, okay? Thanks.'

She walked into the en suite and Holly followed close behind. Once the door was closed the girl leant against it.

'Great,' she huffed, blowing her fringe from her forehead. 'He's off again.'

For a moment she stood there, letting the slight rise in temperature warm her sallow cheeks. It was nice to be still for once in somewhere clean and relatively safe. When she'd first started frequenting the manor it had felt more like a mausoleum – or at least what she imagined visiting a mausoleum would feel like – than a refuge. But now that was just what it was: a part-time sanctuary, ruled over by the strange, crotchety, snobby little boy in the room outside who was her only true friend in the world.

She looked down and noticed the large collection of ties hanging along the towel rack. She walked forward and stroked their still-damp silk. He'd left the bottle of hand-wash beside the sink along with a few sponges and a pair of too-big rubber gloves. The stepladder was still in the shower. She could see the smudged line on the tiling where he had been forced to stop scrubbing due to lack of arm-length.

Annie frowned and left the bathroom. Holly followed her.

'Art.'

The boy was still pacing, as unaware of his immediate surroundings as it was possible to be.

'Art!'

The boy started. 'Annie! Annie, are you alright?''

'I'm fine.'

Artemis huffed, his thread of thought cut and dissipated.

'I just saw the bathroom.' Annie gestured with her thumb over one shoulder. 'It's very clean. You've done a good job.'

Artemis stared at her. 'Thank you,' he said eventually, forcing himself to remain civil. 'I worked hard at it, but please, Annie, could you just leave me to my thoughts for a moment?'

She shrugged. 'Yeah, I just wondered if you, y'know, wanted to talk about it or something?'

'The bathroom? Do I want to talk about my bathroom?'

Annie cocked an eyebrow and the boy sighed.

'Look,' he said, kneading his forehead. 'I... I don't want to talk about it, alright?'

'How's your mum?'

'I said I don't want to talk about it.'

'So she's worse, then.'

He didn't reply and they lapsed into a somewhat painful silence, until–

'Yes, she's worse.' Holly flinched. 'Of course she's worse. He's not here, is he? So how could she be better?'

Annie blinked. She hadn't meant to get him angry. 'But,' she said, braving out Artemis's now poisonous expression, 'you said the doctors–'

'They've stopped coming.'

'Well… they must have prescribed something?'

'Diazepam and bed rest. Hardly ground-breaking treatment.'

The girl shut her mouth again. Artemis's eyes were tempered steel, his knuckles protruding like marbles beneath tissue paper. He glared at her from his spot of the carpet. Then, with all thoughts of fairies well and truly flown from his mind, he stalked over to his desk and sat down with his back to her.

Annie fidgeted with the hem of her t-shirt. 'Art...?'

He didn't answer for a long moment, and when he did his voice was thick and petulant. 'What?'

'Are you alright?'

Holly saw Artemis' chin begin to tremble. There were a few more seconds of stillness and then Artemis slumped forward. Annie was immediately around him.

'No,' sobbed the boy, 'I am not alright. I have a mother who's crazy, a family estate I've had to re-mortgage, eight more employees who need firing because I can't afford to pay them…' He drew a shaky breath. 'Butler will soon be the only lucid adult left in the house, and he has already taken on so much outside of his usual duties. Cooking, cleaning, washing my clothes... He hasn't been paid in over three months; he shouldn't still be here. That's why…' He gestured weakly towards the bathroom door. 'I couldn't have him doing that for me also. I have been trying to help, but... '

For a moment he sank lower in his chair, but then he lashed out at the desk, striking it with the heel of his palm.

'What about the lemur money?'

'I've had to put that into funding the arctic expeditions. I'm putting in everything I've got.'

Annie froze. 'Arctic expeditions? What arctic expeditions?'

'I am sending out teams to look for Father.'

'To... to make sure he's dead?'

Artemis shook his head. 'No. To try and bring him back.'

Annie released him. She stared at him, her mouth open, her expression appalled. It took her a few seconds before she could bring herself to speak. 'Bring...? Bring him back?' Artemis stood up, sniffing heavily. 'What do you mean bring him back?'

He didn't reply. He walked over to the bureau and pulled a clean handkerchief from a drawer.

'Come on, genius!' shouted Annie. 'Explain it to me!'

'Because –'

'Speak up!'

He rounded on her. 'Because I am not enough for her!'

Holly closed her eyes.

'Because I have never been enough for her! She only ever loved me as a part of him. Artemis Fowl the Second. Her own noxious, demon of a son who decided to try his hand at patricide because of a few issues –'

Annie's expression hardened. 'He was a murderer, Artemis.'

'And what exactly am I, Anne? He was my father! And I killed him! I could have done something. I could have stopped him, spoken to him about his dealings. I didn't have to resort to what I did.'

Annie clenched her fists. 'You couldn't have done anything! Don't you remember what he was like?'

He scowled. 'Why are you saying this? You were the one trying to stop me in the first place.'

'Yeah. Because I was worried about you. Not because I wanted him to live.' The last word was spoken with disgust – as if the mere thought of a breathing Artemis Senior brought a bad taste to her mouth.

Artemis's limbs were shaking, struggling to keep any semblance of composure. Holly could feel his emotions: his confusion, his anger; they reached out to her like stray flames from a bonfire. 'The facts of the matter remain,' he said eventually. 'My mother will never be well without him, and besides... I promised her that I would find him.'

Annie sniffed and wiped her sleeve roughly across her face. 'Then you were stupid,' she spat. 'Really stupid.'

Holly caught one last glimpse of her tear-stained face before the room began to fade.

Four concrete walls, a bed and a door.

That was all there was.

It was the most unremarkable place Holly had so far visited, so grey and small, but it stirred a deep fear within her breast. She could feel it, the panic of being in that room, the place of so many lingering nightmares.

'Well,' said the girl who stood beside the cot. 'You've done it now.'

The boy did not reply; he stayed where he was, his lips shut tight, his forehead pressed to the wall. The third figure in the room slept on, their brow pinched with some unconscious discomfort. The girl reached out to touch.

'Don't!'

Annie started. Artemis's thin fingers wrapped tightly around her wrist.

'I thought you said it was sedated?'

'She is, just... don't touch her.'

Artemis let her arm drop and retreated back to the wall.

'Her?'

'Yes. Her name's Holly. Holly Short.'

Annie opened her mouth to ask but Artemis waved a hand over his shoulder. 'She's wearing a name tag.'

The girl looked back to the bed. 'It's the fairy from the tape.'

'We can't be sure of that. The tape was of such poor quality–'

The elf moaned and both children froze, alarmed... but she merely twitched a hand before lying still again.

Annie remained stricken. 'What about its magic? It's not about to wake up and melt us, is it?'

Artemis snorted and turned away from the concrete. 'Melt us? She's not a witch, Ann.'

'Well I don't know, do I? I don't know what the fuck it is!'

'She's an elf, capable of hypnosis, healing, and high-speed vibration. She does not,' Artemis chuckled again, 'retain enough power to melt anyone. In fact, she doesn't have enough power to do anything at the moment. I took her just as she was about to complete a ritual that would restore her magic.'

'The acorn thing?'

'Yes, the "acorn thing."'

'Right... well... that's alright then.'

Annie looked back to the bed just as the humour deserted Artemis's face. She glanced up again sharply. 'You said healing.'

Her dark eyes seemed huge ringed by the eyeliner she had so recently taken to wearing, and they took Artemis off guard.

'I...' He shook his head. 'Sorry, what did you say?'

'Healing. You said it could heal things. Why not get it to heal your mum?'

Artemis sighed. 'Yes, the obvious solution. Here, in my house, a creature capable of doing what all the doctors have failed to do. What I have failed to do.'

'So why not just get it to do it?'

'It wouldn't work. Fairies can only perform healings of their own free will.' His lips pulled up into an ironical smile. 'And I highly doubt when it, she, does wake up, she'll be in any particular mood to help me.'

'And why can't you force it? I thought you said they had to follow orders inside the house of a human?'

Artemis's smile dropped.

'Just tell it to heal her! Or, or get Butler to smash it about a bit! I'm sure it'd be more willing then.'

'I have already told you it is not that simple! If it were, she would be in the attic already and I would be carrying out the smashing myself! I cannot force her to use her magic, even under her own laws. It must be done willingly, and Butler standing over her brandishing God knows what would not count as willingly. And anyway, how could I risk her running around the house up to her ears in magic? She is strong enough and dangerous enough already without the aid of supernatural powers–'

There was a bang from above and the sound of distant footsteps.

'Butler,' whispered Artemis, his face filling with dread. 'He must have returned from his checks of the grounds. My God. They could be here already.' He looked at Annie. 'You need to leave, now.'

She seized his hands, her nails digging into his skin. 'Artemis.'

'Annie, we don't have–'

'Look at me! Artemis... are you sure about this?'

'As you said, "I've done it now." What am I supposed to do? Just put her back where I found her?'

'Well, if you could just put her back.'

'I cannot. Her people are coming.'

He turned once more to the door but Annie yanked him to her.

'I don't want to leave you,' she said. 'I can't.'

Artemis pushed her away. 'You can and you will. What use do you think you would be to me here? I shall tell you: none. You will leave this house and I shall see you Friday evening, as scheduled.'

She knew he was being cold on purpose. She knew it was only because he was scared, because he wanted to protect her. But it still hurt.

'Give it the acorn,' she pleaded. 'I know you can't force it to use magic but it'd still be handy to have something that could heal, might heal, in case something happened.'

'Nothing is going to happen,' he said firmly. Annie shook her head, tears brimming. He grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. 'Nothing is going to happen.'

There was another thump from above them and a gruff, muffled call.

'He's looking for me,' whispered Artemis, blue eyes raised to the ceiling. 'I must go before he comes down here. It is only a matter of time until he realises the cameras are looped. Wait here. I shall clear the way for you to leave.'

'Artemis–'

'Wait here.'

He disappeared, the steel door clanging behind him.

Holly and Annie were left in silence. For a few seconds they just stared at spot where the boy had departed, but then they turned, as one, to face the sleeping figure on the bed. Annie hesitated before taking the few short steps to the cot side.

'Hello,' she whispered. 'Hello... Holly.'

The elf didn't reply, merely slept on. The girl crouched down onto her haunches.

'My name's Annie,' she said. 'Annie Shinner... but I won't be called that forever.'

More noises came from above and Annie and Holly froze.

'Hopefully.' The girl swallowed and looked back to the elf. 'Y'know you're quite pretty, Holly. In a... weird sort of way. I bet Art gets it. He thinks lots of things are pretty that I think are weird. Like daffodils and Picasso.'

The elf on the cot mumbled something and the girl reared back. She watched as the fairy's legs twitched.

'Something up with your foot?' asked Annie. She got up and hesitantly bent over the cot. 'If it's your shoes I can't help you there, you're just going to have to–'

She stopped suddenly, noticing something on the mattress.

Behind her, Holly Short's eyes widened to the size of kettledrums.

Annie's hand dropped to the bed and picked up the object that had fallen free from the Captain's boot. She rolled it in her palm, her pulse pounding in her ears. She clasped it in her hand. She should take it away, Artemis was right; it was too dangerous to let the fairy have it. She was going to put it in her pocket... Wasn't she? She opened her palm again.

There was another noise from above and she almost dropped the object back to mattress. There were voices, then footsteps. They were coming closer, heading towards the cell.

'Oh, fuck,' she breathed. Her whole body was shaking.

If she gave it to the fairy it would get magic. Wouldn't it? It had to bury it, wasn't that the rule? And if it had magic, it could heal people. It could heal Art's mum! Then he could stop with all the crazy schemes and his father could stay dead, or missing, or whatever he was and everything would be fine. Wouldn't it?

The steps were getting closer, louder.

'Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckitty, fuck-fuck-fuck.'

Annie closed her eyes, half screamed, and dived for the cot, stuffing the acorn down the side of the elf's boot. She jabbed at it with the tips of her fingers, making sure to lodge it right down beside the fairy's ankle: right where Artemis would never find it.

She lurched backwards. 'You better not let me regret this,' she growled at the elf, pressing herself to the wall.

The door opened outwards.

'Annie?' hissed a voice. 'Annie, come on!'

Annie sighed, relief flooding her chest, and reached for the hand extended to her.

'I thought you were Butler,' she said. 'I thought I was for it.'

'I've sent him to check on Mother,' replied the harried-looking Artemis, 'and Juliet's busy in the weapons hold. We've got about ten minutes to get you out of here.'

He dragged her out of the stairwell and into the main hall, his pale face flushed. They bolted down a side passage and eventually reached a deserted kitchen with Holly close on their heels.

'There,' he gasped, pointing to a thin, moonlit window at the top of the wall. 'Go through there. There will be no cameras to track you that way.'

Annie wasted no time in hefting herself atop the workbench, her untied trainers scuffing against the wood. She reached up towards the windowsill.

'Annie!'

The girl looked round.

Artemis's eyes were glassy, his breath unsteady. Immediately she was down again, grasping him tightly in her arms, feeling his own, weedy limbs grip around her back. They swayed on the spot, both their eyes shut tight.

'You're going to be fine,' she whispered, thinking of boots and acorns. 'Just fine.'

'Am I?'

She broke away from him, her expression stern. 'Buck up. You've made your bed and now you've gotta lie in it. You're Artemis Fowl fer feck's sake! Nothing can touch you.'

This seemed to stir something in him and the twelve-year-old drew himself up, his hands clenching into fists.

'Yes,' he said. 'Yes, you are right.'

She levered herself back up onto the counter.

'Annie.'

She looked down.

The boy hesitated. 'One last thing. The gardener's cat, Constance… It refused to leave when its master's employment was terminated and likes to play about the mulberry bushes at this time of night. If you see it, would you mind taking it with you when you leave the grounds? I wouldn't want it to be... well. Would you?'

'Sure,' replied the girl. 'Yeah, I'll do that.'

'Thank you.'

They looked at each other a short while longer before Annie's arms drew taught and she pulled herself through the window, disappearing into the night.

Holly disappeared too.

'Terribly sorry,' said Butler, his voice as deep and threatening as the thunder outside. 'Not interrupting anything, am I?'

Artemis's brain was numb. He gaped at his manservant, his mind a single line of static. He remained where he was, his spine arched backwards, his right knee clasped between the legs of the boy opposite.

Said boy raised a thin eyebrow. 'Well, yes,' drawled Tuley, 'you are rather.'

His words shot a spark into Artemis's consciousness. Tuley's hips, hands, legs were suddenly brands against his skin. He pushed them away.

'Butler,' he blurted. 'You weren't supposed to be here for another ten minutes.'

'I know,' replied the manservant. 'I thought I'd surprise you.'

Tuley's lip curled. He was unused to being out of the loop. 'Art?' he prompted in cool, clipped tones. 'Who is this?'

Butler glanced at the figure beside his charge. He was older than Artemis, that was clear, perhaps seventeen or eighteen years of age. He was taller too, with thick yellow hair and eyes the colour of seaweed. His clothes were expensive but rumpled. There were red smudges along his jaw line, and finger-marks on his neck, but apart from those little imperfections he could easily just have stepped from the centre pages of GQ.

For a moment Artemis simply stared at Tuley, but then he coughed into his fist. 'Er, of course. Tuley,' he said, 'this is my bodyguard, Butler. Butler, may I introduce to you Master Toulouse Brannagh.'

The blonde boy's gaze raked up Butler's frame in a way that wasn't quite decent. 'A pleasure,' he murmured softly.

Butler didn't reply. He knew of the Brannaghs; who hadn't in his line of business? They were a family entrenched in crime, their whole history consisted of it. No doubt that this teenage yuppie was already a part of the legacy.

Artemis fought the urge to curl up on the floor and die quietly.

'He's a tad smaller than you described, Art,' said Tuley, still blatantly eyeing Butler. 'And I expected someone rougher, not quite so refined.'

Butler's brow twitched. Excuse me?

Artemis strove to remain calm. 'I am sorry to disappoint you.'

'On the contrary,' replied the boy. 'I'm impressed. He looks like a man of many talents. Perhaps I shall have to borrow him.' Tuley's eyes flickered to Artemis and his tongue flashed briefly across his teeth.

'Butler,' Artemis snapped. 'Go and wait for me in the car. I have a little further business to conclude with Master Brannagh here.'

Moving away was the last thing Butler felt like doing. The blonde boy was smirking from behind Artemis with a look that reminded Butler very much of Artemis himself, once upon a time. There was the same arrogance, the same unwavering control.

'Butler,' repeated Artemis. 'I told you to leave.'

They stared at each other, locked in silent conversation. Butler was the first to break eye contact. 'If I don't see you in ten minutes, I'm coming back.' Artemis nodded, and after one last loaded look Butler disappeared up the corridor.

'Finally,' sighed Tuley. He grabbed Artemis's shoulders and drove him backwards. Artemis twisted out of his grip, and surprise flashed across Tuley's face before he was slammed back into the wall. Tuley frowned and tried to get up, but Artemis only rammed him back.

'Alright,' chuckled the elder boy, holding his hands in the air. 'Alright.'

Artemis stepped away and Tuley levered himself slowly upright.

'I want you to inform me if there are any more developments with this Neck person,' said Artemis. 'Call me, email me. If we are to meet, then I shall arrange the place and the time, is that clear?'

Tuley's expression darkened. 'You forget yourself, Artemis.'

'Do I?' Something was stirring in the depths of the younger boy's eyes, something that had so long been slumbering. 'Tell me, Tuley, what is it exactly that I have forgotten?'

Tuley hissed. 'Your place.'

'I am a Fowl.' The name echoed up the corridor. 'Not some lowborn journeyman who fancies himself important. You think you have power because of the cheap pistol stuffed under your arm. I have power because I was born with it.' Artemis's lips parted to show gleaming teeth. 'I was once heir to something so much more than a house, Tuley, and you would do well to remember it.'

Tuley didn't reply. Artemis pulled on his jacket to straighten it and turned up the corridor. He took a few paces before turning back.

'Oh, and Tuley?' The elder boy looked up. 'Don't ever let me catch you looking at my manservant in that vile way again because if I do… well, I'll leave it up to your imagination.'

Tuley lips twitched into a smile. 'Duly noted.'

Artemis slammed the door of the jeep shut, strapping his seatbelt quickly across himself and sweeping back his rain-sodden fringe. Butler sat motionless beside him.

'I'm waiting.'

'Can't this wait until we are home? We are both sopping–'

'Now, Artemis.'

The rain drummed on the roof of the Land Rover.

'He is a friend,' said Artemis. 'I invited him to discuss some business.'

'Business?'

'Yes.'

'What business?'

'Information. Now, are you actually going to start the car or shall we be remaining here all evening?'

Butler twisted the key in the ignition and the jeep roared to life. 'I still want more from you, Artemis.'

The teenager looked to the window, following the progress of single raindrop as it dripped down the pane. Outside, the school was rolling from sight.

What can I tell him?

He decided, for once, on the truth.

'I met him eleven years ago when Father and I visited their house on an errand. Father was in need of Sheila Brannagh's… unique services, and Tuley was charged with my entertainment while the adults talked.'

Butler frowned. There were precious few times in Artemis's childhood when the bodyguard hadn't been by the boy's side. However, especially in the few years prior to the Fowl Star incident, Artemis Senior had been prone to take his son on 'special errands' without Butler's accompaniment. Angeline Fowl had been the catalyst for these trips, encouraging her husband to bond with their son without the ever-looming presence of a bodyguard. And so the outings had quickly become a routine, and Artemis would always return from them graver, and less child-like, than he had left.

'We haven't seen each other for years,' continued Artemis. 'Not since before I stole the fairy thief.'

And at the party on Saturday, thought Butler. 'So why meet today?'

'I have told you. I was in need of information.'

'What information?'

'That is none of your concern.'

'It is my concern if you are putting yourself in danger.'

Artemis snorted. 'Butler, please. It was a simple meeting between friends.'

'Friends don't kiss each other, Artemis.'

The car fell silent but for the grumble of the thunder outside.

Artemis's reply was quiet. 'Now that is certainly none of your business.'

'I don't have a problem with you seeing people,' said the manservant, keeping his eyes straight ahead. 'I do, however, have a problem when you do it in secret and with trained hit-men.'

'You don't understand.'

'Oh, don't I? I understand that you met with him at the party on Saturday. Him and others.'

Artemis's brow contracted. 'How–?' Lightning flashed through the windscreen. 'He spoke with you, didn't he?' whispered Artemis. 'My father spoke with you on Saturday after he had spoken to me.'

'He told me you had confessed to meeting with criminals, that you were reforming old links.'

'And you believed him?'

Butler was incredulous. 'What was I supposed to think, Artemis? I see you on Saturday night acting completely out of character, asking to be left alone one minute and then haring around the corridors the next. We come home and you offer no explanation, only a slammed door in my face. And then today! I arrive at your school to find you wrapped around a Brannagh –!'

'Assume I'm rebuilding a criminal empire, of course,' said Artemis. 'It's the only possible explanation. Three days of acting like the normal teenager my mother so ardently wishes I were and immediately I'm under suspicion. Am I under surveillance, too? Did Father ask you to spy on me?'

Butler didn't answer. Artemis turned his head back to the window. 'Unbelievable. When were you planning to –?'

Something began to vibrate against his thigh. Artemis ripped the phone from his blazer pocket and put it to his ear.

'What?'

'Ah, Art, it's good to hear your voice again.'

Artemis frowned. 'I thought I had made my position clear to you, Tuley. If you do not have more information –'

'Oh, come now. Let us forget business. I have only a simple question.'

'Tuley –'

'What sort of currency is this coin?'

'Excuse me?'

'This coin of yours. I can't for the life of me figure out what it is. Is it Malaysian? It looks most likely to be Asian...'

Coin? thought Artemis. What is this lunacy–?

His hand flew to his chest. He patted his shirt once, twice. There was nothing there. He jammed the phone back against his cheek. 'Tuley, what have you done with it?'

Butler registered the change in Artemis's voice and glanced sideways. A low chuckle sounded from the phone's speaker.

'Calma, Éanlaithe. It is safe here in my hand. But who was it that gave it to you for you to keep it on a string so close to your heart?'

'Tuley, if you so much as –'

'A sweetheart perhaps? That special someone?'

Artemis felt pressure building behind his brow.

I have challenged him. This is his reaction.

He took a shaky breath. 'Yes, someone special.'

'Who?'

'Return it and I shall tell you.'

'Maybe you are lying to me, Art. Perhaps this is simply a horcrux in which to hide your shattered soul?'

'A whore's crutch?'

'Horcrux,' corrected Tuley, 'with an 'X.' Enchanted spirit-casket as opposed to leg-support for a prostitute.'

Artemis rubbed at his temple. 'I want it back, Tuley.'

'But why? There's a hole punched straight through the middle. Is this a symbol for something, Art? Did they punch a hole through you?'

He's never going to return it, Artemis realised. Not after what I said. Not without maiming it in some way first, and that would defeat its purpose.

He closed his eyes and for some reason felt the sudden urge to laugh. This day was turning out to be some sort of surreal dream. His pulse was racing in his chest. Wasn't this how his life had once been? Never the mild homoeroticism of course, but the excitement, the risk. The games. How long had it been since he had felt this way?

Artemis put the phone back to his ear and smiled. 'Was there anything else, Tuley?'

'No, I shouldn't think so. Only that next time we meet I shall want much more than a coin.'

'Duly noted. Good evening, Tuley.'

Artemis snapped the phone shut and burst into laughter. This took Butler so off guard that he nearly steered the jeep into on-coming traffic. A lorry horn bellowed at him and he quickly pulled back into the correct lane.

'Artemis, are you alright?' demanded Butler.

Artemis's eyes were alight. 'I'm fine.'

'What did the Brannagh boy want?'

'Information on something he has stolen from me.'

'Stolen? What has he stolen?'

Artemis's grin widened. He sat back in his seat, his spine sinking into the custom leather. 'My one spark of decency.'

A/N: Now why on Earth did Eoin create Minerva when he could have had the fun of writing someone like Tuley?

In the next chapter it's back to Holly and a healthy dollop of Trouble, but not before Artemis hears something of the truth.

Now please review, guys.

You know you want to.