Chapter 4: At a Loss
Fowl Manor, The InfirmaryAre you sitting down?
Butler had never understood why people so frequently asked that question before delivering bad news. Perhaps 17th century ladies in whalebone corsets would need that sort of forewarning, but in modern times it had seemed strange that such a phrase had persisted. Still as his legs gave out and his rear end hit the floor, he rather wished Mr. Fowl had asked.
Peripherally he was aware of Artemis gasping in shock as 270 pounds of Bodyguard landed so gracelessly. The entire scene was rather undignified.
"Father you can't!" Artemis said.
"I can, and I did. Butler, you have an hour to remove any personal property from the Manor."
Butler got to his feet and staggered out of the room, moving as if he had recently been hit on the head with a sledgehammer.
Artemis pulled himself up to his fullest five feet of height.
"Father you can not do this."
"Why not?" his father asked.
"Because!" Artemis said in a voice that was growing surprisingly shrill.
"He is a bad influence on you," his father said in a tone that bordered on condescending.
"He's a bad influence?" Artemis repeated.
"He hasn't established a professional relationship. Clearly neither of you understands that he is the adult, and is therefore responsible for you. He does nothing to control your actions. Apparently he is content to follow you into any number of dangerous situations."
"He is an exemplary bodyguard," Artemis said, regaining control of his ability to debate. "He does what he was hired to do. He is not a babysitter."
"Perhaps I need to find one for you."
"I do not believe this!" Artemis said. "You can not make Butler leave! You can't! This is…" Artemis took a deep breath, trying to get his emotions under control. "This is completely unprofessional. Butler's conduct had not put him in violation of his contract. He did as I asked, in order to protect me to the best of his ability."
"And what was on those tapes that you need to be protected from?"
"I am not at liberty to discuss it."
"This is preposterous," Mr. Fowl said. "You are a child and it is apparent that Butler's presence has lead you to believe otherwise."
"You can't make him leave!" Artemis said. "He's my…friend," he finished almost inaudibly.
His father put a hand on his shoulder.
"I know you don't see it right now, but that is the problem. He is the problem."
"He is not the problem!" Artemis declared, stepping back. "Butler is the only one who has never been the problem. Butler is not the one who took on the Mafia and nearly got killed. Butler is not the one who had a nervous breakdown and refused to leave the attic for a year. Butler most definitely is an adult and he is probably the most stable adult in this building. Butler is not the problem."
Artemis looked into his father's eyes and realized he may have struck too directly. His father's face had become completely blank. He may as well have said 'I wish Butler was my father instead of you.' Artemis was disturbed to find, upon contemplation, that at this moment it was true.
"Butler is not your bodyguard anymore," his father said coldly. "He is leaving the Manor and he will not be invited back."
"If he goes, I'm going too!" Artemis stated.
"You are going nowhere but your room."
And then came the stage of the argument where lines were crossed and all rationality was abandon. Artemis crossed his arms over his chest.
"You can't make me."
His father grabbed him and in one fluid motion threw him over his shoulder. Artemis was so shocked that it took him an entire two minutes to regain control of his faculties.
By that time they were moving through the entrance hall, past the last of the guests.
"I demand you put me down this instant! You are humiliating us both!"
He wanted to pound his fists against his fathers' back, but that would look too much like he was having a tantrum. His father stopped well short of Artemis' room, opening the door to one of the guest rooms instead.
Artemis frowned as he recognized the room. It was a remnant from before the Fowls were "operating on the straight and narrow". There were no windows. There was no phone jack, much less a LAN line. The room was sound proofed and lined with plywood instead of sheet rock. There was a connected bathroom, equally free of access to the outside world. It was a room designed for guests who did not want to stay.
His father dropped him on the bed, kicking up a cloud of dust. He was already out the door by the time Artemis righted himself. He rushed to the door, but of course there was no knob on the inside. Artemis stood staring at it.
"I believe I've been grounded," Artemis said to himself in a small voice.
Fowl Manor, Butler's Room
Butler bumped into three different walls and missed two steps on the way back to his room. He typed in the code and pressed his palm to the scanning panel. The door sprang open. Butler walked in, without bothering to check for bombs, poison gas, or even a random knife-wielding assassin. He walked to the bed, neatly made and rarely slept in, and allowed his knees to give out again. He barely avoided landing on the elf that already occupied it.
Mulch, who had been looking through the bureau, quickly turned his attention and an innocent expression on the massive bodyguard but Butler didn't seem to notice him. Holly dragged herself around on the pillows. She still didn't have much feeling in her legs. After several awkward minutes of watching the human stare blankly at the wall, Holly cleared her throat. Butler didn't seem to hear.
The recharge of magic that Grub Kelp had given her had probably saved her life, but she still felt dizzy. More then anything she wanted to sleep for a few weeks, but anything that could affect Butler this way was likely world shattering.
"Are you hurt?" Holly asked in a wavering voice.
The giant human shook his head.
"Is Artemis alright?" Holly asked.
Butler nodded.
"What happened?" Holly asked.
"Artemis was faking the seizure to distract Mr. Fowl. I knew it wasn't a good idea, but there wasn't exactly time to discuss it. Intellectually they're nearly equals, and neither of them seems to realize it."
"Butler," Holly said, dredging up the last shreds of magic Grub had given her. She grabbed hold of his sleeve and tugged until eventually he turned to look at her. She made eye contact. "Tell me what's wrong," she ordered, voice resonating with mesmer.
Butler blinked slowly. "Mr. Fowl fired me."
Holly and Mulch exchanged glances. They waited for him to continue, but he went back to staring at the wall. It was as if someone had scooped out his brain. They were still silent and indecisive when a soft knock came at the door. Butler made no move to answer until a voice called out equally softly.
"It's me, Angelina. Butler, please open the door."
Butler got to his feet. He scoped up Holly and the pillows she was lying on and deposited the entire armload gently and silently in the closet. Mulch had already dived under the bed. Butler opened the door and after a moment's hesitation, Mrs. Fowl stepped inside. She'd never been in Butler's room before. None of the Fowls ever had.
"Butler, I'm so sorry," she started, her pale hands nervously ringing a bright red Christmas hat.
"It's my own fault ma'am," he said, cutting her off in a defeated tone.
"It most definitely is not," Mrs. Fowl said. "This is the first time Timmy and Arty have really…butted heads over something. I know it is normal behavior for a teenager to test boundaries, but…well you know Arty. When he tests boundaries he brings in a crack team of rogue Special Forces officers. Timmy explained the argument and really it isn't your fault. He'll see that soon. They'll sort themselves out in a few days. Really, everything will be alright," she said, sounding as if she were desperately trying to convince someone of those facts.
"Maybe Ma'am," Butler said, not sounding convinced.
Holly shifted a bit and tried to look through the space under the closet door. She'd expected Butler's closet to be a bit more organized then this. The floor was cluttered with boxes, shoes, and giant orange stuffed bear that she really wouldn't have expected to find in there. She heard foots steps in the hall outside, but Butler didn't seem aware of them. The silence in the room suddenly grew tense.
"Oh, Timmy don't…"
Holly saw another set of feet enter the room.
"This is a restraining order," said a deep voice that would belong to Artemis in a few years. "I've had it faxed through Fowl Legal services to all law enforcement agencies in Ireland. These are your termination papers," the voice continued.
Holly heard said papers rustling.
"Timmy you need to calm down," his wife insisted, though he sounded in complete control to Holly.
"No he doesn't ma'am. If you'll both excuse me, I only have 23 more minutes before I must vacate the premises," Butler said.
Holly heard Mr. Fowl walking away, but Mrs. Fowl lingered.
"I found this in Arty's jacket pocket. I suppose he meant to give it to you tomorrow, but-"
"Thank you ma'am," he replied.
When Mrs. Fowl's footsteps had faded as well, Butler closed the door of his room and opened the closet. He scooped up Holly and her pillows and put her back on the bed. The shell shock seemed to have worn off.
"What are you still doing here?" Butler asked.
Mulch popped out of under the bed.
"Sool's ordered Holly quarantined indefinitely in Howlers Peak."
"Isn't that the goblin prison?" Butler asked.
Mulch nodded.
"Where are they going to put all the goblins?"
"Trouble seemed to think they would still be there," Mulch said.
"Well that is…unfortunate."
Mulch nodded. "We were going to ask if we could crash here until some of this blows over, but…"
The three of them awkwardly avoided eye-contact.
"Does the rule of invitations apply to hotels as well?" Butler asked.
"Yeah, I guess so," said Mulch. "But even if LEPretrieval can't get us inside the hotel, they'll get Holly on the way there. I can't take her in a tunnel with me."
Butler got a very Artemis like expression on his face.
"Don't worry. I have a plan."
Fowl Manor, The DrivewayThe cabbie stood around awkwardly as the giant loaded a trunk and several boxes into the boot of the cab, and then went back to the steps of the mansion to pick up more. There was a well dressed man with a creepy cold expression watching the giant move things, staring down from an upstairs window, and a well dressed lady standing the doorway, crying into a red Christmas hat. The cabbie had been around for a lot of awkward breakups, but this had to be one of the strangest. He was quite certain the giant had put a missile launcher in the back of the vehicle, but he really didn't know how to go about mentioning it, much less objecting to it. The pile of junk on the steps rapidly disappeared, until all that was left was an oversize orange bear.
"If anything of mine turns up, could you please have it forwarded to me?" the giant asked the lady, as he scoped up the bear.
"Of course," the lady said. "I'm sure we'll sort this out. You'll be back to taking bullets for Arty in no time, I'm sure." "Thank you ma'am."
The giant gave a respectful nod to the man in the window and then picked up the ridiculous bear. The cabbie went about minding his own business.
"If I choke on this junk, I'll kill you," said the bear.
"Homicide is a rather unusual behavior for a stuffed bear," Butler murmured with a hint of a smile.
"These polyurethane beads are terrible for the environment," the bear hissed.
"And they are equally bad for the People's scanning equipment, if I recall correctly. If it's bothering you that much you could always try to dig your way there. I'm sure Mulch wouldn't mind the company."
The bear only growled a final time in response, before being placed in the back seat of the cab.
"Where to?" asked the cabby, doing his best to ignore the fact that his giant passenger appeared to have been talking with his stuffed bear.
"Newgrange," the giant replied.
"That's a long way," said the cabbie.
The giant handed him a roll of bills large enough to pay his rent for the next three months.
"Right," the cabbie said as he started the engine. "Mind if I turn on the radio?"
"Yes," said the bear.