A/N: Ok, shortish chapter here. Sorry about the wait, but I hope you enjoy it :) You should also thank Tammerly for reminding me to finish this; otherwise I may not have gotten around to publishing it until next weekend.

OPAL'S SHUTTLE, CHUTE E1, TARA

Holly recoiled as one of the Opals swooped down on her, attempting to cuff her hands. But Holly wasn't having a bar of it. She swung her feet around so she was lying on the floor, each foot aimed at an Opal, her hands protectively hidden from sight. Both the Opals sighed in unison.

'So typical,' said one.

'Yes,' agreed the other. 'Just a little tip, my dear LEP officer. Keep an eye on who's behind you.'

Before Holly could react, she was hoisted up by strong, warm hands. She briefly thought this person behind her could be friendly, when pressure cuffs were clamped to her wrist. She spun around.

'You!' she exclaimed, surprised.

'Oh yes,' said Spikkle, 'Me.' Holly glanced about wildly, as if expecting to see more good-elves-gone-bad jumping out, but the only other figure on board the shuttle appeared to be a small pixie in the driver's seat.

'But...,' Holly started. She was confused. She thought Spikkle was a good guy. In his casual jeans-and-shirt getup he was the last person she expected to be in on a plot to ruin the world. But there he was, solid and real. 'But you were...'

'Foaly's slave? Yes I was. I got sick of it – constantly being bossed about, always having him whinnying in my ear about how he doubted anyone could become as good as him. And what's more, my first task of the day was to bring him carrots. Carrots.' He sighed deeply. 'I was a genius, I deserved better than what he gave me. So one day I just quit. And when I did, he just told me that hopefully the next apprentice would be a bit smarter.'

Even in the situation she was stuck in, Holly couldn't believe Foaly would ever do such a thing. 'Liar,' she told him firmly. 'I don't believe you.' Spikkle just grinned in response.

'No matter. By the end of this I plan to ruin Foaly's reputation.'

Both Opals scowled, but the present Opal was the one to speak. 'If your mind is too small to remember, civilian, we are the ones in charge here.' She glanced at her other self. 'Or as to say, I am.'

Spikkle scowled back. 'You owe me, Opal. Without me, you would be encased in glass by now. Who knows what repercussions could be felt in the future.'

Hostility cracked electrically through the air, making Holly squirm. 75% of the people in the room were mentally unstable, and the last thing she needed was to be caught in a firefight on a shuttle hovering over magma. She decided to diffuse the situation. 'So,' she said, almost conversationally. She could taunt the Opals later when they were safely under lock and key. Even though fairies had ceased to use conventional locks several millennia ago. 'What plan have you got cooked up this time?'

'If you think I am just going to give you that information, elf, you are seriously deluded. Who knows what bugs you have on you?' Past-Opal pulled out a short metal rod from a concealed cabinet and fondled it lovingly, like Foaly often did with his most prized inventions. 'This is a highly advanced bug-sweeper. It is specially made, so it can detect any fairy bugs, including Foaly's. It even detects weapons.'

Past-Opal passed the bug-sweeper over Holly's form, a slow smile spreading over her face. 'Hand me the Neutrino.' She held out her hand. 'Now.'

Holly reluctantly handed over the tiny weapon which had been strapped to her leg, along with a tiny throat mic Opal had also discovered. Besides that, she had no more communications. But something still gave her a spark of hope. Artemis's unopened present was also strapped to her leg, and there was a tiny chance that whatever Artemis had given her could aid her in some way. Luckily, Opal's bug sweeper hadn't seemed to detect it. She let out a subconscious sigh of relief.

'What are you so pleased about?' asked Present-Opal. 'It isn't as if you can escape.' She giggled madly, crushing the throat mic in her fist. 'I have quite a good plan for you.'

'Helped by the fact Fowl already thinks you're dead. We piggybacked one of Foaly's cameras at the Tara shuttle port. Such melodrama.' She pulled a face and put on a false, whimpery voice. 'Holly, you don't understand! I'm so sorry!'

Holly concealed her anger. She wanted to pounce on the megalomaniac, but refrained from doing so. Instead she gazed up towards the ceiling, as if she could see through it. Somewhere up there, Artemis stood, thinking of her as being dead.

'And you know the worst thing?' asked Opal nastily. 'To the observer, It looks like little Artemis pushed you to your death. If I don't get the mud boy, the LEP will.'

Will he know I'm alive? Holly wondered. Maybe he will know. He is a genius.

FOWL MANOR, DUBLIN, IRELAND, ONE MONTH LATER

Butler was concerned. His charge had barely left his room in a month, only making appearances at family meetings or dinnertimes. Even then, he would often just sit alone and answer questions in incoherent or single-syllable sentences. It was most unlike the Irish genius to express his grief like this – generally he would just plot or exploit someone to keep himself busy.

The manservant finished pouring a cup of tea and buttering scones, arranging them on a wooden tray next to small ramekins of jam and cream. Balancing it expertly on his arm, with a newspaper in his other hand, he strode from the kitchen to Artemis's door, which was firmly shut and locked. The tray of food he had left earlier sat untouched on the floor.

He sighed and bent to pick it up, then hesitated. Why was he avoiding Artemis like this? For all he knew, the boy just needed someone to talk to. Butler considered for a moment, then hammered on the door.

'Come in,' said a voice emptily. Butler immediately complied.

Artemis was once again sitting at his computer, but he had minimised whatever he was working on, so Butler wasn't sure on exactly what. He didn't question, however. He knew Artemis well enough to know he probably wouldn't tell him anyway.

'What do you want, old friend?' asked the boy. The question seemed casual enough, but his voice didn't carry much feeling.

'I'm worried about you,' admitted Butler. 'You have taken this even more badly than I have.'

Butler had been thrown into full grief when he heard about the death of his fallen fairy comrade, leaving him wandering aimlessly for a good week or two. But Artemis had outshone him by far, and Butler wasn't happy.

'You may have loved her,' said Butler rationally, 'but whether you had feelings for her as a friend or lover, I don't know. All I know is, you have to let it go.'

'Sorry Butler, but I must now continue with my work. Can you please leave the scones and tea on the table?' Artemis gestured vaguely towards a table where it would probably never get touched. He looked thin from lack of food, but Butler swore he saw something, determination maybe, in the boy's eye.

It must be my mind playing up, thought Butler. What on earth would a bereaved fifteen-year-old genius have to be determined about?

* * *

Genius or not, Artemis Fowl was struggling. His logic told him there was only a miniscule chance Holly had survived, yet his subconscious still seemed to stick to the tiny possibility that she was still alive and kicking. So even though the funeral had done nothing but drain his hopes a bit further, he decided to hack the LEP mainframe.

It was by no means easy, but Artemis was a natural. All he had to do was tweak his handy hacking program he had developed for piggybacking satellites, and readjust it to LEP settings. Soon every LEP document was laid out on his Powerbook screen, from police reports to criminal records.

How unsurprising, he thought, clicking a 20GB file labelled 'ARTEMIS FOWL' in block capitals. Even though I've gone good, they still have to keep a file on me.

To tell the truth, he knew why that folder was still in the 'High risk criminals' section well before he even opened the digital folder. Even though he had anticipated it, the words contained in that folder shocked him. He scrolled through the broad paragraphs of text, taking in all the information. One paragraph was particularly memorable.

It appeared to be a computerised version of a newspaper article, most likely from The Haven Times.

"Artemis Fowl, a criminal by nature, has proven that the ways of the mud men are not as easy to eradicate as once thought. Following the death of Captain Holly Short, the LEP have uncovered the footage showing what took place before Short plummeted into the magma below chute E1, Tara. Taken from one of the various LEP cameras positioned around the shuttle port, the video clearly shows Captain Short being herded to the edge by the mud boy, before toppling off the edge, where she is briefly held up by the human. In a cold-hearted manner, Fowl simply lets go and allows the decorated elf to plummet to a fiery death. This incident is also thought to possibly coincide with the escape of deranged pixie-turned-human Opal Koboi. The LEP are arranging a meeting to decide the fate of the mud boy, who is claiming it to be nothing more than an accident."

Artemis frowned. If Opal Koboi had escaped, anything was possible. He needed an ally in the equation, as the LEP were clearly no longer on his side. He found a number in the contact list of his fairy communicator and dialled it. After a long ringtone, a voice became clear on the other end of the line.

'Fowl?' said the voice. 'I'm a bit busy here.'

It sounded like Mulch Diggums had wasted no time in going back to detective work – the fairy medics had healed his burns within hours and he was now back out on the streets. Artemis hinged his entire plan on one fact – that Mulch didn't believe the LEP.

'Do you trust me?' was the first thing the Irish boy asked the dwarf.

'Huh?'

'Mulch, do you trust me? Or do you believe those journalists of The Haven Times?'

'Hmm, let's see...ex-criminal mud boy or protectors of Haven city? Ex-criminal mud boy, any day.'

'In that case, I was wondering if I could ask of a small favour? Paid, of course.'

'What do you have in mind?'

OPERATIONS BOOTH, HAVEN CITY

'I'm telling you, Fowl didn't do it.'

Foaly kneaded his eyes with his fist, flicking his tail angrily. He was annoyed and frustrated, having spent the entire last three days after Holly's above-ground funeral trying to convince the higher-ups that Artemis was innocent. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to be working.

'Replay the tape,' ordered a particularly adamant council-member. 'In slow-motion too.'

Foaly sighed, putting on his unappreciated-genius face. He twiddled a few dials and manipulated the video with his v-keyboard.

He hated the video. Replaying it over and over again sure wasn't helping his bad mood either. His cameras showed a tall individual compared to the fairies, obviously Fowl. The mud-boy was talking to Holly, walking forwards as he did so. Holly was shuffling back, oblivious to the massive chasm behind her. She simply slipped over the edge, Artemis grabbing her hand for a brief second, before letting go.

But even with all this footage at his fingertips, Foaly was not convinced. Artemis's speech at the funeral had proved how much he had loved her, and Artemis had changed enough to not ever tell such a big lie to the fairy people and his family, bad or not. Foaly could also not help noticing that when he was talking to Holly at the shuttle port just before she fell, Artemis seemed stressed and worried rather than angry or murderous.

Rolling eyes, flapping arms, the whole Fowl thing. Foaly felt sudden stabs of pain as he recalled one of Holly's quips from after returning back from time with the lemur. He shook it off. Holly was dead now, and no-one could do anything about it.

But one particular mud-boy was just about to change that.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! Remember to review, it always makes me write faster, as well as brightening up my day, so everyone wins!