Author's Note: This is a re-post because, like a moron, I uploaded the first chapter with the middle part missing. Sorry for the mix up.
Chapter 1: Full Moon
Tara, Ireland: 8:35 PM GMT
Holly Short fought the urge to sigh as another cheerful couple strolled passed. She loved being on the surface, but her job was starting to leach all the fun out of it. At first working in the private sector had been liberating. Not only was her Private Investigation Agency very successful, but she and Mulch, her "I'm reformed, honest!" assistant, also got to show up the head of the LEP on a very regular basis. Her friends in the force told her she had driven Commander Sool's blood pressure up to a dangerous level as she caught thieves, lawbreakers, and goblin gang members twice as fast as the LEP did. The counsel had even gone over a proposal suggesting Holly be contracted as a sort of official bounty hunter for the Lower Element's Police force. It was rejected three to four, but it still had Sool seething and Foaly, Holly's best contact in the LEP and friend, smiling for weeks. There was a catch of course.
Throwing her badge in Sool's face was one of the most satisfying things she had ever done, and she knew Julius would have backed her up there, but now she was dependent on something even more pitiless then that bureaucratic pencil pusher Sool; money.
Private Investigators didn't get a budget from the Haven Counsel. It was sink or swim and if a client couldn't pay they dragged you down like a stone. Still Holly had never turned anyone down if they truly needed her help. To make up the difference she had to take on some less then tasteful cases. Like tonight's for example.
There was a brilliant full moon overhead. Left and right faries were searching the ground under the ancient oak for acorns to complete the ritual and renew their Earth granted magic.
And what am I doing? Holly thought, more then a little bitterly. I'm following a sprite.
Ms. Bell Elwood had come to the office a week earlier with 40 oz of gold and suspicions.
"I think my fiancé is cheating on me!" the lady sprite had sniffled into a tissue.
"Is your fiancé a sprite?" Holly had asked.
"Yes," Ms. Elwood wailed.
"Then he's cheating on you!" Mulch had called from the supply closet where he spent most of his time.
The sprite had burst into tears at the Dwarf's hollered comment. Holly had tried to give the sprite her money back and send her on her way, but Elwood wanted concrete video proof of her one-and-only's indiscretion and wouldn't leave until she was signed on as a client.
Holly felt herself scowl as the sprite she was tracking crossed her field of vision. Alve Bork had come up to Tara in a single booked seat on a moderately expensive tour shuttle. Holly had wheeled and dealed to get herself passage on the same vessel, though she didn't shell out enough for the same prestigious deck. Four hours stuffed between two goblins who would not stop licking their eyes had not improved her mood either. Mulch was somewhere on the shuttle as well, but she hadn't seen him. She'd slipped a tracker down the back of Alve's jacket while standing in the line for customs and had been skulking after him, waiting for him to do something stupid, which it looked like he was about to.
She adjusted her video eye. It wasn't quite as high tech as the camera's her old LEP helmet had, but there was no use crying over returned equipment.
"Are you getting this Mulch?" she said.
Mulch was out on the perimeter of the glade. Holly told him he would get better reception there, but really it was to keep him away from the temptation to pick pockets.
"Yep," the Dwarf replied.
Holly watched with a frown as Alve approached a pretty little pixie and began to lay on what sprites considered charm. Holly tinkered with the miniature parabolic microphone strapped to her wrist until she'd isolated their conversation.
"-all by yourself? I'll buy you a spring water," Alve was saying.
The pixie was smiling and fluttering her eyelashes. "How about we go get some dinner instead? There's this nice secluded restaurant in the docking station. Their chocolate truffles are to die for," the pixie purred.
"Truffles?" Alve asked. "I don't know. They're kind of fattening aren't they? You wouldn't want to do any more damage to that waist line would you?"
The pixie slapped him and stalked off into the crowd. Alve began to flutter dejectedly toward the ancient oak.
"Certainly wouldn't want to loose that, Ms. Elwood," Holly mumbled to herself.
Mulch was laughing himself stupid over the radio as Holly made her way to the other side of the glade. A hand clamped down on her right wrist. Her free hand went to the illegal buzz baton hidden under her coat. She was about to bring said baton and all of its thousand volts down on the offending faries head when an annoyingly familiar voice brought her up short.
"Holly! Whoa babe! No need to get all excited. Well maybe there is," said Chix Verbil, a former coworker from her time in customs.
Chix grinned at her, fluttering his wings in what he must have supposed was a very charming manner. Holly was sorely tempted to hit him anyway.
"Be quiet Chix!" she said, pushing the sprite out of her line of sight.
"Don't be like that Holly," Chix said, his wings drooping. "Everyone was really sad when you quit. Sool's a real tool." Chix snorted at his own joke. "When are you coming back?" he asked.
"I've started my own business," Holly said, trying not to grind her teeth.
"Oh, yeah. You're a P. I. now. How's that working out?"
"I'm working a case right now, Chix!"
The sprite took a longer look at her trench-coat, buzz baton, and other assorted spy gear. She leaned around him, looking for the sprite she actually wanted to see, well the sprite she'd spent the last 72 hours tracking anyway.
"D'Arvit!" she growled.
Alve was gone.
"What's wrong?" asked Chix.
"I lost my mark," Holly said, trying to keep her temper.
She'd saved Chix life a couple of years ago. If she strangled him now it would only make things even, right?
"You're pretty when you're angry," called a voice from above her.
Holly looked up. Her startled grunt was covered by Chix's shout.
"Alve! What are you doing here man? Where's Bell?"
"Oh, I just needed a night off from the nagging. She doesn't even know I'm here," Alve said, floating down in front of Holly's camera.
"So you're the famous Holly Short?" Alve asked. "I thought you'd be bigger. Still you're pretty cute. How about I show you a good time?"
"No thanks," Holly said through gritted teeth. "I'm working a case."
"Really?" Alve asked. "What kind?"
"A sprite thought her fiancé was cheating on her," Holly said. "She wanted me to get her some proof."
Alve shook his head. "I'm glad my girl's not like that."
"This has got to be some kind of record," Mulch laughed into the radio.
Chix and Alve began simultaneous proposals to show Holly a good time. Fortunately for them Holly's attention was drawn to a scream on the other side of the glade. Elves, pixies, gnomes, and goblins were starting to run in her direction as orange light rose up behind them. The ancient oak was burning.
"Is that a Troll?" Chix asked.
"The head's the wrong shape," said Alve.
"What do you think Holly?" Chix asked.
"I think I can't see anything from down here!" Holly shouted, dodging a panicked pixie that surely would have bowled her over.
"Sorry!" Chix said, dropping out of the sky.
His wings kicked up a miniature dust storm as he grabbed Holly under the arms and tried to lift her. Without being asked Alve flew down to help. Together the two sprites were able to pull the elf above the crowed.
Holly starred across the clearing. A large dark figure was squatting under the burning skeleton of the ancient oak. Steam was rising from the thin layer of snow on the ground. Alve was right, the head was the wrong shape to be a trolls, and the creature was too small. It wasn't much bigger then an adult human. It was probably bipedal, but its posture brought to mind a praying mantis rather then a man. Burning leaves rained down on it, but it didn't seem to mind.
About fifty faries surrounded the burning tree, watching the thing and blocking its escape. Everyone watched but no one spoke. No one wanted to name the thing before them. Holly's frown grew deeper. There didn't seem to be any LEP officers among the onlookers.
"Bring me over there," Holly ordered.
The sprites obeyed. Holly dropped lightly to the ground behind the crowd. Chix hovered above her.
"Where is security?" Holly asked.
"There should be three officers on duty," Chix said. "My shift doesn't start for another half hour."
"Three?" Holly asked incredulous.
"Sool's cutting everyone's budget," he said with a shrug.
"Get back to the station. Get an LEP retrieval squad up here, and any other security you can find," Holly ordered.
"Yes Captain," Chix said and buzzed off over the crowd.
He seemed to have forgotten she no longer had any authority. She pushed her way to the front of the onlookers, and fiddled with her video eye.
"Are you getting this Mulch?" she asked.
"Yeah. You want me to try and broadcast to Foaly?"
"Yes. If you get through, tell him we're going to need Warlocks up here."
"You don't think it's really a-"
"It might be," Holly said cutting him off.
She looked over her shoulder. Most of the fleeing mob had made their way back into the station. Her gaze flicked back to the thing sitting in the center of the fire. It was stirring slightly, flexing long serrated claws. Time to send the rest of the gawkers packing, she thought.
"Alright!" she shouted into the unusually silent glade. "Any of you off duty LEP?"
Six hands went up. She waved them forward.
"Are any of you armed?" she asked in a low voice.
They shook their heads.
"I need you guys to get these people into the station," Holly said.
"Why should we listen to you?" demanded a gnome.
Holly recognized him from her time as a Corporal working traffic in Haven. She couldn't remember his name. What would Commander Root have done in this situation?
"Because I say so!" she growled, pulling the buzz baton from her coat. She pointed out the entrance to Tara with it. "These civilians need to be moved to a safe distance before that thing attacks or the Mud Men show up. Now!" she added when no one moved. "There could be more of them around."
The officers had just started the crowd moving toward the station when the creature jerked to its feet. It approached the crowd, many of whom had stopped again to watch. Its motions were strange and it teetered as if it were about to fall over with each step.
"Move it People!" Holly ordered.
The faries started to run, and the creature increased its pace, rushing toward the retreating crowd. Holly sprinted forward and planted herself square in its path. She waved the baton, and the creature halted. Twenty feet separated them now and Holly could see it very clearly. Its black pebbly skin had thin cracks running through it, and as it breathed the cracks glowed with orange light as if there were embers in its flesh. Its eyes had no whites and its beak like mouth made strange clacking sounds as it starred at her.
"Best go back where you came from," she challenged. "Because you won't get past me!"
It charged.
Holly ducked under the swinging claws and leaped upward, jamming her buzz baton in the creature's throat. It shuddered and stumbled back. Holly danced back as well. The creature tilted its head to the side and watched her. Holly stood with the baton poised.
Her communicator buzzed.
"It's me," Foaly said in a slightly frazzled voice. "Mulch was babbling about something, but there's some kind of riot in the Tara terminal, so unless this is an emergency, Holly I'll have to-"
"Look at the video feed!" she hissed, not taking her eyes off the creature.
"What is this?" the centaur asked. "Is this the new Lord Frond movie? That demon looks really fake."
"It's live feed!" she shrieked as the creature charged again.
Claws sank into her coat. She struck it on the arms with the buzz baton. She twisted and ducked but the claws were hooked in the coat and she couldn't get loose. She got it in the neck again with the baton and it stumbled forward, one of its odd pointed feet landing on her ankle. She heard something crack. She twisted again and half her coat tore away in the creature's hands. The fabric was supposed to be tougher then Kevlar. Holly let the other half of the coat fall to the ground as she hobbled backward. Blue sparks ran up and down her leg as her magic healed her injury.
The thing watched her for a moment, and then charged right passed. She shrieked and hurried after it but her lamed leg wouldn't hold her up and she fell in the now slushy snow.
"Behind you!" she screamed.
Most of the stragglers had made it back to the terminal entrance, but a sizable group were still outside. Holly staggered to her feet. The bones in her ankle wrenched themselves into place. She started to run, but it was too far. The off duty LEP were at the back of the group, urging them forward. The creature leapt and landed on an elf. Faries rushed forward to help but the creature brushed them aside. The elf screamed, and the crowd screamed in response. Faries were scattering, running away into the night. The creature raised its head and the glade echoed with the resounding clacks of its beak.
As Holly ran towards them motion at the edge of the glade caught her eye. Three more creatures were lumbering out of the forest. She gritted her teeth and ran harder. She didn't have breath to spare on a "D'Arvit".
Tara, E1 Shuttle Bay 8:50 PMMajor Trouble Kelp sealed up his helmet and turned on his wings. It was against all sorts of regulations to activate one's wings in the docking area, but the Retrieval squad would never make it passed the teaming mob otherwise.
"Good to go?" he asked over the helmet com.
"Yes sir," all seven members of the squad replied.
He made a fist and swung it for ward. "Move out!"
The recon squad flew through the station, whipping up a storm of paper and poorly secured hats. Trouble looked down into the crowd. He saw a lot of sparks, but most of the injuries seemed to be from people trampling each other, rather then from whatever the hell it was the squad was being sent to retrieve. They hadn't received a briefing before boarding the Hot Shot they'd ridden to the surface and now Foaly was yelling something incoherent into the microphone about demons.
The squad landed just short of the gates leading to the surface. It was apparent that someone had tried to seal the emergency doors, and it was equally apparent that someone else had jammed it a quarter of the way open. Faries were still crawling under it on their hands and knees, an endless stream of them trying to get into the relative safety of the station. Trouble sent one of his men to find the station's manager and get the door back up again. He was about to crawl out under the door when a sprite bumped into him.
He wouldn't normally have paid much attention to a clumsy sprite, but this one was carrying enough artillery to flatten half the station.
"Halt!" Trouble ordered.
The sprite stopped short, dropping a Neutrino 4000 on the floor. The sprite pushed up the ridiculous goggles he was wearing and the Major recognized Private Chix Verbil of the LEP.
"Thank Frond you're here sir," Chix said, bending to pick up the gun he had dropped.
"What the hell is going on Verbil?" he demanded.
"There's a demon sir. Holly sent me to get the rest of the security detail, but I couldn't find anyone, not even the station manager. It set the Ancient Oak on fire!"
"Holly Short sent you down here?" Trouble asked.
Chix nodded, dropping another gun. Thing must be very desperate up there, Trouble thought. But it couldn't really be a demon could it? The emergency door rumbled to life and began to retract into the ceiling. He didn't have any more time to think about it. He waved his fist again and the squad rushed forward, squeezing past hysterical civilians who were still fighting to get inside.
They ran through the nearly empty outer lobby. There was an elf face down on the floor. The squad stopped while the medic looked him over. Any elf could heal if they had enough magic, but Captain Twill was especially good at it. He rolled the elf over and several members of the squad stepped back in horror. The elf was missing an arm. They left Twill with him and hurried forward. They could hear the battle ahead: strange clicking and shrieking and the sizzle of a buzz baton. And over all of it Trouble heard a familiar voice.
"You want this? Come and get it!" shrieked Holly Short, former Captain in LEPrecon.
There was a sizzle and a thump as a baton found its target. The squad rushed through the hologram that hid the entrance to Tara and once again most of the squad was startled into another halt. That did not include Major Trouble who had his Neutrino 4000 leveled and put three shots into the nearest creature before it even noticed they were there. It stumbled but didn't go down.
"Crank up to maximum!" Trouble ordered.
His eyes were drawn to Holly who was cornered between two of the creatures. She was glowing with sparks as her magic healed up the not so tiny scratches the creature's claws had inflicted on her.
"I'm running out of juice here," she called in a strained voice.
Trouble cranked up his Neutrino and charged toward her. The rest of the squad took up position and opened fire. The creatures clicked angrily and shied away. Holly ducked another lunge from the creatures she'd been fighting and rushed over to the squad. She was limping.
"What took…you guys…so long?" she gasped with a relieved grin.
"We had to stop and ask directions on the way up," Trouble joked.
Holly snorted, and then leaned over to catch her breath. There was faint rumbling beneath their feet and a furry face popped out of the ground a few yards away.
"Are they dead yet?" asked Mulch, as he looked around. "Guess not."
The creatures were slowly backing away under the flurry of laser fire.
"Do you guys still need help?" called Chix Verbil, who had finally caught up with the squad, his arms still full of…arms.
"Negative," Trouble said, as his squad advanced. "Get back in the station and see if you can get things organized. Squads four and seven are on their way up and I don't want civilians standing in the way when they try to dock. Short can you help him out?"
"Commander Root…that's not regulation…" Holly said, struggling to breath.
Trouble turned. "What?" he asked.
He was almost more surprised buy the mention of the martyred former commander of the LEP then he was by Holly's odd behavior.
"Sir I think…I acted in the best interest…I…" Holly didn't finish her garbled sentence.
She dropped to her knees wheezing. Sparks of magic were popping weakly along her back. Trouble jogged over to her. The Dwarf, Mulch was kneeling next to her asking if she was choking. Trouble turned up his helmet lamps and pointed them at Holly's back. He hadn't noticed the wound under the dark fabric of her shirt. There were three parallel slashes in the fabric and underneath it the flesh was dark and discolored. He pulled up the cloth.
"Oh gods!"
Sparks were rising around the wound, but they weren't healing it. The three claw marks were filled with a strange dark green goop that seemed to be eating away at Holly's back, slowly spreading.
Fowl Manor: 9:23 PMArtemis Fowl the second sat by the window in his room, watching snow pile up on the sill. A sigh momentarily fogged the glass.
"Arty!" called a cheerful voice from outside his door.
He rose from his chair and opened it. His mother beamed at him. Her cheeks were flushed from a combination and champagne and the oversized red and white hat that enveloped most of her head.
"Arty, don't just sit here alone in the dark. Come join us."
"I'll be down shortly Mother," Artemis replied, trying to smile sincerely.
"It isn't that late," his mother said. "Your friends probably just hit a bit of traffic."
Artemis nodded. His mother told him to invite as many people as he wanted from St. Bartleby's School for Young Gentlemen, the "educational" institute he attended, to the Fowl Christmas Gala, as the invitations described it. His mother had wanted to start a family tradition. He supposed she thought him depressed that none of his classmates had arrived. Artemis had not actually invited any of them, as other teenagers were about as interesting as last years Wall Street Journal. He had in fact invited only two people, Holly Short and Mulch Diggums. And when he said "People" he meant it with a capital "P".
It was their absence that was nibbling away at his venire of Christmas spirit. Though he hadn't seen them face-to-face in almost six month's, he talked to Holly every week, as he was a consultant for her P. I. business. He'd talked to her earlier that evening in fact, on the communicator Holly had hidden in his pocket the last time he was drugged and thrown out of Haven, the People's under ground city.
Holly and Mulch were at Tara ( E1 to those in the shuttle business) on a stakeout, and since they already had visas to the surface, they promised to stop by. He wanted to give them their Christmas presents in private before being forced into the sea of fake smiles and pointless conversation that was his mother's idea of fun.
"I'll be down in ten minutes Mother. I'm just going to call them again and make sure everything is all right."
His mother gave him a nod and a hug and then walked away down the hall toward the noise of the party.
Artemis closed the door again and returned to his seat by the window. He saw Butler crossing the grounds, searching for possible threats. He would come inside to keep an eye on Artemis when he finally decided to go downstairs. The hulking bodyguard looked up at the window and made a few hand gestures, indicating that Artemis should move away from the glass. He'd been told at least a hundred times that this seating arrangement was an invitation to sniper fire. He ducked back until Butler walked out of sight.
Artemis wondered when the proper time would be to give Butler his Christmas present. He had the little box in his pocket. A set of keys tagged with GPS coordinates. He'd had it specially constructed in Germany, but he had designed it and programmed all the control systems himself. It had already been shipped to Dublin.
Artemis was very proud of it. Not only because the design he'd now patented was worth at least several million, but also because he'd done it all without Butler's knowledge. He couldn't help but feel proud that his parents hadn't noticed it either. His father had been watching him very closely the past few months, but this was another thing he'd snuck by under his nose.
His thoughts were interrupted by the door of his room opening. For a moment he was greatly annoyed that someone would enter his private domain without knocking, and then he recognized his father's outline and couldn't decide if he was annoyed or not. How many times had he been just waiting for his father to burst through the door to come talk to him? Even before his father was held hostage by the Russian Mafia for two years, they had been distant. Now that he had his father back, he found himself unsure of what to do about it.
"Hello Father," he said.
His father, Artemis Fowl the first, stepped in without invitation and flipped on the light switch as he came. Artemis blinked owlishly. The door snapped shut.
"You told your mother you'd be right down," he said.
"I told her I'd be down in ten minutes. I still have three left."
His father sighed and sat on the edge of his bed.
"Why are you hiding up here Arty?"
"I am not hiding."
"It's just a party. No one is going to bite you. Come and have some eggnog and meet people."
"I'll be down soon. I'm just waiting for my friends to arrive."
His father's face got a strange pinched expression.
"Artemis, you didn't invite anyone."
Artemis didn't know how to respond.
His father continued. "No one from St. Bartleby's sent an RSVP. Come downstairs. The Winthrop's brought their daughter. She's about your age and I'm sure she's suffering terribly without anyone under 30 to talk to."
To Artemis it sounded like a setup, and though he had been expecting something of the sort to occur, he couldn't for once hide his embarrassment. His father thought him incapable of normal human social behaviors. Really he wasn't. He could write hundreds of pages on human psychology and sociology if given the task. In fact he wished very strongly that that was his given task at that moment.
"I…I still need to make a few phone calls. Two of the people I invited responded with maybes-"
"The circus people?" his father asked, looking slightly exasperated.
Artemis frowned. Of course he had to give some explanation, in case Holly and Munch ran into any of the guests. Three foot tall people with pointed ears weren't exactly run of the mill, even in Ireland.
"Mother met Mr. Diggums two years ago."
"Artemis, you need friends your own age!"
"Why?" The question just burst out of him, and unexpectedly he felt his temper rising. "So I can practice speaking improperly and listening to music that makes my head hurt? I've never come across anyone "my age" who did not annoy me and I am quite certain I had the same effect on them. What is the point of repeating these encounters when the outcome is always the same?"
His father's face went from looking pinched to looking sad. There was a long pause.
"Make your phone calls and then come downstairs. Alright Arty?"
Artemis nodded.
His father walked out and Artemis turned off the lights after him. He went to the window. After only a few minutes he saw a dot dart across the full moon, one dot carrying another dot more accurately. Holly wearing a set of wings and carrying Mulch most likely, he thought. Artemis went to the safe in his closet to get out their presents. Despite the awkward exchange with his father the evening was starting to look brighter.