Porcelain Doll

Porcelain doll of exquisite beauty, carved from a master's hand
Glazed and polished in a mystic hearth of ordinary dirt and sand
Eyes of the deepest green, and lips of ruby red
A chain of pearls and precious gold, a tiara for your head
A smile of rapturous beauty, what is it that you see?
Veiled and hidden, the longing for a forgotten dynasty?
Beguiling doll of seductive beauty, passion and ecstasy
Why am I drawn into your world, is that my prophecy?
Or have you seen too many broken dreams, to wish one of your own?
How cruel of you to tempt this fool into wanting to take you home.

Fred Haney

Chapter One (Part One) ~ The Porcelain Doll Child

If you new Artemis Fowl, you would know that he despised High School. You would know that he hated his teachers, who knew less about their own subjects than he. You would know that he hated cafeteria lunches, lumps of potato-things, swimming in gray-coloured gravy made with the drippings of God knows what. You would know that that he found the little "cliques" in his school to be a bore, all the loud, animal-like creatures that called themselves students.

If you truly knew Artemis Fowl, you would most likely not exist, for not many people knew the real Artemis Fowl. With the exception of a few close (and unbelievable) friends and acquaintances, Artemis tended to keep to himself, and for that, the rest of the world can count their lucky stars. His high school would one day thank him for this.

As he shoved his books into his bag on a particularly foul morning, contemplating just how much he hated high school as the rain drove relentlessly against the windows, he caught a glimpse of the morning paper. Most of the front page was devoted to a picture of a grisly bog, and the story of yet another murder. The fifth this month in that area. He scanned the rest of the page for anything important, but there were no leads on the case; if this was one person, then they were doing a good job of covering up their tracks. No murder weapons, no finger-or-foot prints, and no damage to the victim's bones besides broken necks and...teeth marks…that the police said could have been from any number of animals discovering the bones after the crime. The author of the article urged people to stay out of the woods and bog-areas after dark. He rolled his eyes and closed the catch on the bag, walking out the door and into the Bentley where Butler was waiting to drive him to the front gates of O'Connell Secondary School.

Butler took saw the amused look on his young charge's face and grimaced. "So," he said, with the false casualty of someone trying to act like they didn't care. "What has the great Artemis Fowl got to say about the Bog Murders?" Artemis scoffed. Like he didn't care. He looked out the lashing rain, the flashes of lightning illuminating the grey sky.

"It's obviously a human…" He said slowly. He could have simply said that he didn't know, instead of stating the obvious, but Artemis detested saying that there was anything he did not know. He said no more on the subject.

They rode the rest of the way to the school in silence. Artemis stared out the window, pondering quantum physics and bog monsters. Once or twice he could have sworn he saw a shadowy figure running alongside the vehicle, but, at the speed Butler drove on deserted country roads, he knew that was impossible.

O'Connell Secondary School is situated in Dublin, where it has stood as an educational facility for over a hundred years. Over time, little had changed; Not their rules, regulations, teaching methods, or cafeteria menu. Sometimes Artemis even thought back with longing nostalgia to his days at St. Bartleby's. And it was then that he knew that his school life had hit rock bottom.

Butler parked the car in front of the school, and Artemis was gone, umbrella opened protectively over his head. If it hadn't been shading his eyes, blocking most of his sightline, he might have noticed the shadow not ten feet away as it solidified and took form. Then it ran away, with no witnesses, into the building.

Class was a bore to Artemis. He read through most of his morning classes, paying only the minimal amount of attention required. He wrote down his assignments to complete later, occasionally raising his hand to irritate his teachers with the knowledge that he was smarter than them (he rather enjoyed this part).

He only raised his head when the new girl was being introduced in Literature to be polite. No one else noticed the soft thud when his book hit the table, as his jaw dropped to the floor. The pale girl's name, the teacher had said only moments before, was Iris Harper. The thought of such an unusual name would cross his mind vaguely later on, but most common thought vanished from his mind at this instant. Her face was like porcelain, and her dark, wavy hair was pulled into a ponytail at the back of her head. Her standard-issue navy school sweatshirt and grey slacks looked wrong on her, like she should be wearing a silken ball gown instead. Her face was fairly emotionless, putting into his mind's eye a picture of a tiny porcelain doll, face set, eyes unmoving, unblinking, forever frozen. But beautiful, with sparkling eyes, little red lips, glossy hair. Yes, that was this Iris-girl to a T.

Mr. Bonfield turned to Iris, and even he, like the rest of his class, seemed momentarily stunned by her. But he composed himself. "Iris, why don't you tell the class a little about yourself?" Artemis rolled his eyes. The poor girl had probably been asked this a thousand times already that day. But, almost as quickly as it had popped into his mind, the thought vanished, along with every other thought in his mind, sarcastic or otherwise. The Porcelain Doll began to talk.

She gave a small smile to the class, then said, "As Mr. Bonfield has already told you, my name is Iris Harper. I recently moved here from Calgary. Canada," she added in response to the blank faces her words were given. "My mother moved us here for her job and, as I have never lived anywhere other than my hometown, I'm hoping to enjoy my stay here." Her speech was quick and practiced, like she had spent hours saying it over in front of a mirror, watching every facial movement. She had it perfected, her face unreadable as she scanned the class. But the second they laid sight of Artemis, they lit up, her porcelain face breaking out into a wide smile. Artemis's eyes widened at the strange action; Girls didn't notice him, especially extraordinarily beautiful girls…He felt his face flush, and he looked down. He didn't look up when Iris sat down in the empty seat next to him, nor did he notice the furtive little glances that she shot him throughout the class. He didn't look up until the bell rang, when he made a mad bolt to the door, gone before any other student had even thought to leave their chairs.

To his apparent dismay (and private elation), Iris was assigned a locker not two down from his. He watched her walk towards it, her dark ponytail swinging gently, seemingly gliding over the floor. Several girls who, though Artemis could pick out of a line-up, would never for the life of him even attempt to remember the names of, crowded around her, gossiping guiltlessly (though, he noticed to his relief, Iris was not one of the gossipers).

One of them, who Artemis thought to be named Sarah (or was it Sally? Sandra?), noticed Iris casting a glance his way. The look she gave the new girl, one of slightly disgusted amusement, shut the other girls right up. "Don't even bother with him," She "whispered", still making sure that it was loud enough for all to hear. "That's Artemis Fowl. You know, stuck-up little heir. Doesn't think anyone here is good enough for him…" The girls nodded in agreement and formed a little huddle around Iris, shuffling her away like that.

There was only one more class in the day. Artemis took his usual seat at the back, and found himself hoping against hope that Iris was not in this class. But, much to his luck, the pale girl walked through the door and to the back of the room, where he himself had claimed a seat. She shot a quick smile his way, her face flushing when she saw him looking back at her. She was even more than pretty she blushed, Artemis thought. It added colour to her otherwise white face.

When Artemis walked out to the Bentley after school, the rain had stopped and the sun was pouring around the court yard, making tiny rainbows in the still-grey sky. He felt like he was in a daze, floating along in his own world. He sat down in the car, staring into space, his eyes hazy. Butler immediately thought something was wrong.

"Artemis…" he said warily. "Artemis, snap out of it." He waved a hand in front of his young charge's face. Artemis looked at him.

"Yes, I am well aware that you have a hand," he said, scathingly so he even surprised himself. The father away he seemed to get from the school, the girl, the pretty porcelain doll child, the clearer he seemed to be able to think. His head felt as though he had been soundly asleep and then doused with a bucket of ice water. He shook his head. "There was a new girl…" He said, trying to remember the exact colour of her eyes. The only one that came to mind was a pale smoky grey, though he felt that that couldn't be right. Too dull for a girl like her.

Butler smiled and nodded understandingly. The silence that filled the vehicle the rest of the way home was not an uncomfortable one.

Chapter 1 (Part 2) ~ The Plan

Iris followed Fowl's car through the Irish countryside. Her dark hair rippled through the rain, but she knew that she would be perfectly dry by the time she reached the school. Once or twice, she could have sworn that Fowl caught sight of her, and she couldn't help but startle a grazing animal or two, but she let these incidents pass from her mind. Iris was a firm believer of the age-old saying, "don't dwell on the past". Meaning, of course, that she didn't always pay attentionto the consequences of her sometimes rash actions. But she let that pass.

The school day was boring for Iris. They could teach her nothing that she hadn't already been taught by her aunts over her many long years. She could read, write, do sums, anything, better than any other in most of her classes. Except, she knew, for Artemis Fowl. He was a genius, if nothing else, and Iris looked forward to testing his IQ with her own. Finally, there he was, in her Literature class. Though she was usually in great control of her emotions, she couldn't help breaking out into a wide smile when she saw him. But there was only a tinge of menace behind the smile, which honestly surprised her.

She sat beside him, hoping to attract more attention, but he kept his head down. Almost as if…but no. He couldn't possibly know about the Charm. No one else knew. She kept shooting "casual" glances at him, but her never once looked up. Perhaps he was immune. She vowed to try harder.

At her locker, which was conveniently placed not two down from Artemis's (planned, of course, through heavy bewitchment of the principal. A number of tiny, stick-like girls had followed Iris out of the class, chattering non-stop in her ears. The dull, tainted blood-lust buried deep within her snarled, begging her to turn around and knock their heads off, but she was well practised with her vegetarian ways, and ignored it.

She followed him to the school gates, where he climbed into an old Bentley. He was talking to the driver, a large Eurasian man with a shaved head.

"There was a new girl…" Artemis said to the man, Iris picking up every word. She smiled. So her Charm had worked after all, hmm? It was time to put her plan into action.

Her body felt like it was melting. It became weightless, insubstantial, a cloud, a puff of smoke. It was not an uncomfortable feeling, but not a pleasant one, either. Then, as the shadow her body longed to be, she raced off down the road after them, faster than any real human had any right to be.

Though even this wasn't worth the Curse.

"Where have you been?" her Aunty Ocypete asked as she returned to the tree. The tree was the meeting place, the "home". Iris pressed a knot in the old wood, and a small door creaked open.

"Nowhere."

"What did you do?" Aunty called after her as she escaped up the stairs.

"Nothing."

"Who did you see?" She screeched in a final attempt to have her reveal the answers, but Iris shut her bedroom door in her Aunt's hideous face.

"No one," she mumbled with finality, as she leaned against the door, smiling slightly to herself.

A/N Yay, chapter numero 2! I hoped you liked it! I know Arty was a litle bit OOC there, but that will make sense in later chapters. So will all that stuff about a Curse and a Charm. And the tree. So will the name Ocypete (Pronounced OO-sip-i-tee). Sorry for any minor and TEMPORARY confusion. But, again, I hoped you liked it. Please review. Critique abou my spelling is acceppted. I blame my laptop. (The "T" key is broken.) But no flaming please. I don't like to have to delete your reviews.

Confundedly,

T.E.C.

(p.s. Aem. I forgot to add, O'Connell Secondary School is a real place. In Ireland. And, as I have been to Irelnd all of once in my life, I've never been there, or even seen it. So, if you go there, and see SOMETHING that I messed up in my description of the school, umm....feel free to let me know, but be nice; remember, I've only ever seen Canadien schools. And some American. But still, this is all I know. Don't belame me for my close-mindedness. So, if you think the cafeteria food there isn't all that bad (trust me. Here, it is.) or anything like that, I reiterate: tell me. I thank you.)