Greetings fellow human beings, fairies, mythical creatures, and vampires! Thank you to everyone who reviewed and/or put this fic on his or her fav/alert list and for voting on my poll. I expect that you’re all tired of me saying this, but, truly, you all are so kind.

Sorry for taking ages to update. I am now in college (yay!) and I’m also working from 6 am-10 am, so I have very little free time left. And usually, when I do have spare time, I fall asleep. Haha, yeah.

I’ll try to update sooner next time, I’ve already started writing the next chapter!

Anyway, on with the tale!

Disclaimer: If life were perfect, there’d be no war, no famine, and I’d own Artemis Fowl. But life is nowhere near perfect, so I don’t own him. Unfair.

Chapter 6: The Danger Level Has Risen

It is quite rare for life to go exactly as one wishes it to. One may merely wish to marry their childhood sweetheart and live happily ever after. In reality, they may end up losing her to their worst enemy, being partly responsible for her murder, and spending all of their spare time attempting to keep the son of the sweetheart alive, which was quite a task, more difficult than convincing a poltergeist to not play pranks. In short, life was made up of seemingly random events which happened in a certain order to lead to a specific conclusion.

However, Severus Snape really did not see how getting his foot crushed by an adolescent Muggle was supposed to lead to some happily ever after. He winced slightly as he turned away from the window that the idiotic Muggle had jumped out of.

The rest of his colleagues (and he was using the term very loosely) were perilously leaning out the window, hoping to catch sight of the Muggle so that they could send someone else down there to fetch him. No one wanted to be the one to venture into the dark, cruel waters of that particular lake. It was infested with creatures that harboured an intense dislike for wizards and Muggles alike. Even many of the Death Eaters nursed—and hid—a small fear of those creatures.

Rumour had it that Death Eaters who failed the Dark Lord one too many times were forced to wade into it, wandless. Rumour also had it that their screams could be heard for days afterward. Rumour it may be, but no one was foolish enough to test it out. And it was a secret that the Dark Lord only allowed the creatures to exist because he was fond of their cruel disposition.

Snape let his fellow Death Eaters scramble around the window for a moment before barking out an order.

“Get away from that window, you halfwits,” he snarled. “The Muggle’s as good as dead now.”

He ignored the slight chill that ate away at his heart as he said that. He was not sympathetic at all about the brat who had crushed his foot. He was not. But he could not get rid of the faint feeling of guilt that was present. The Muggle had only been killed because of his resemblance to the Potter brat. It was unfortunate, but nothing could be done about it now.

One of the Death Eaters moved away from the window, smirking nastily.

“True,” he said, twirling his wand in his right hand. “No filthy Muggle would survive in that lake.”

The others gave murmurs of agreement and turned away from the window. A few attempted to quietly inch away from the group, but a glare from Snape froze them in their tracks. It was good to know that his glares had not lost their effect since the end of the school year.

”No one will leave,” he growled, outwardly glaring, inwardly scheming, “until we decide who tells our Lord about this.”

As expected, the spineless imbeciles averted their eyes and began to mumble excuses.

“Why don’t you inform our lord, Severus?” asked the Death Eater who had been the first to agree with Snape’s assessment of the situation. His eyes glittered with cruel intent. “I’m sure the Dark Lord will be willing to forgive you for it.”

Snape met the man’s eyes with a glare of his own. He had not missed the implications meant by the man’s statement. He was aware that not every Death Eater welcomed him back onto their side with open arms. Indeed, some believed that he was a traitor of the highest order, running back to the Dark Lord after spending years as Dumbledore’s lapdog.

But they didn’t know just how much of a traitor he really was. And it was imperative to his health that they never find out. Which meant that he had to watch his words. Which meant that he could not back down from the challenge. Which meant he had better prepare himself for a world of pain.

.oo000HP&AF000oo.

Falling is not a pleasant experience. There’s no denying that fact. Some people crave that free-falling sensation, though. They visit amusement parks in order to ride gravity defying roller coasters. They participate in the death-defying sport of bungee jumping. They jump out of helicopters with only a parachute protecting them from certain death. They craved that sudden, brief feeling of utter freedom. Artemis Fowl was not one of these people. And even those brave individuals had to admit that free-falling more than 20 feet into a dirty lake of unknown depth is quite another story.

Artemis’ mind steeled itself as he hit the water, fortunately feet first. Meeting the water head first at that height might have rendered him unconscious, which would not have helped him at all. Even though the cold had been expected, the sudden chill rendered his limbs and his brain useless. He fought the instinctive urge to open his mouth and breathe.

Artemis sank rapidly for several seconds, until his brain fought off the cold and began working again. He forced his numb limbs to move, in a decisively odd manner, similar to that of a one legged swimming toad. If his situation had not been so dire, Artemis would have felt quite humiliated.

His escape plan had not involved him almost drowning. All he could see through his half-lidded eyes was dark, murky water and a few air bubbles. Which way was up to the surface for air and which way was down into the dark for certain death? He had no clue.

Artemis twisted his body around, ignoring the burning sensation in his lungs. He was not an Olympic swimmer, and probably never would be, but he knew how to stop himself from sinking any further. At that moment, he extremely appreciated the swimming lessons he had been forced to attend at the age of seven.

Relax, he told himself firmly. Panic and you’ll die.

Though his eyes stung something fierce, he forced them wider open, taking note of his surroundings. Dark, dark, dark water surrounded him on all sides. He definitely did not want to venture any deeper in the lake, though in a moment, he would have no choice. His clothes were weighing him down, and he was tiring quickly.

In a moment or two, his supply of oxygen would run out; already his chest felt as though it would burst. He had to find out which way was up. Now. He tilted his head up, careful not to allow any water up his nose. More darkness. This was ridiculous; surely he hadn’t managed to sink low enough that none of the sun’s rays could penetrate the water. Then he looked down. And sure enough, beyond his feet, he could see faint blessed light.

Found it, he thought, relief making him light-headed. Or perhaps it was the lack of oxygen.

As he bent down and began to swim towards the light, a single amused thought crossed his mind.

I sincerely hope that heading towards the light leads me towards the surface and notthe afterlife.

It would be decidedly humiliating to escape from the madmen only to die of his own folly. Holly, for one, would never let him live it down.

He became aware of the fact his lungs were on fire—figuratively speaking, of course. Each kick took more effort and propelled him forward fewer feet than the one before it. His feet now felt as though two boulders were strapped onto them in place of his worn-out sneakers.

Just a few more feet…Wait…is the light becoming fainter?

His head snapped down, and his heart skipped a beat.

A…creature…had grabbed a hold of his half-frozen right foot and was dragging him down. Great, of all the lakes to jump into, he just had to choose the one infested with merpeople, for he was quite sure that was what the being was.

The creature’s broken yellow teeth were visible as it pulled the young boy further and further away from the surface, from the sweet, wonderful air.

His vision was growing cloudy. His limbs were flailing about desperately in a futile attempt to break the grip. The mer-thing’s expression grew more amused as Artemis’s need for air grew more apparent. The small area of his brain that was still functioning took offence. He was being toyed with.

The mercreature could easily have killed him with the crude spear gripped in its left hand, but it chose to draw out the inevitable. It seemed to find it more amusing to watch him struggle for release. Artemis was not going to stand for that.

Let GO, he screamed mentally, aiming a kick at the creature with his free leg. To his surprise, the kick connected with a shower of blue sparks. The mercreature let out a shrill, piercing cry at the contact, its hold loosening just enough for Artemis to jerk his foot free. He aimed another kick at the creature, but his deprivation of oxygen was catching up with him.

He wasn’t really sure if he had managed to scare the mer-thing away, but he couldn’t see too well anymore. His limbs seemed to have been replaced with pieces of lead and his entire body was numb, to the point that he didn’t even feel cold. The last thing that he saw was the faint gleam of light, high above him, with tiny blue sparks flitting about everywhere…

.oo000HP&AF000oo.

“There’s nothing here, Dom,” Juliet said, barely managing to keep the whine out of her voice. They had been standing inside of the bookstore for the past twenty minutes now, and she was itching to leave. “Just how much longer do we have to stand here?”

Butler didn’t look up from the book he was thumbing through. To the world, he appeared absorbed in it. In reality, he was keeping an eye on the empty, weed-choked area next door through the window he was causally leaning against.

“Just a little bit longer,” he replied in a pleasant tone, playing the part of a doting older brother. “I just need to find exactly what I need.”

Translation: they were not moving until Butler saw whatever it was that he was looking for in that empty lot.

Juliet pouted, falling into the role of a pampered younger sister. She was thinking furiously, her mind still whirling with different possibilities as to why they were here instead of looking for Artemis. She glanced at her brother’s tight grip on the book in his hands. He was more worried than he appeared. She mentally sighed, running a finger across the “Do-it-Yourself” books on a shelf.

Hey, maybe there’s a book here about how to rescue a teenage boy who’s too smart for his own good from people who call themselves wizards, she thought in an attempt to cheer herself up. Her eye fell on the title of a book that her finger had landed on and she froze.

“How to Plan and Execute the Perfect Kidnapping” she read, deeply amused. Okay…

Curiosity spiked, she pulled the book off the shelf and read the first page. Within minutes, she was completely immersed in it. It was fascinating to see exactly how the people she was trained to protect Artemis from thought. Fascinating, and a tad frightening.

She didn’t look up until her sharp ears picked up Butler’s sudden intake of breath. She raised her eyes in time to see Butler put his book away and casually look at his watch.

“We need to hurry,” he said, meeting her eyes. “We’ll be late if we don’t leave now.”

She nodded in understanding, already setting her book down. As fascinating as it was, she could always come back for it later. What mattered now was that Butler had finally found what they were looking for. Whatever that was, she still had no idea.

They left the shop immediately, not even pausing to respond to the bookkeeper’s annoyed glare. Juliet turned to the right, expecting them to head to the empty lot that Butler had been so fascinated with. To her surprise, though, Butler turned in the opposite direction, heading away from the lot.

“Where—?” she started before cutting herself off, pretending that a dress in a nearby window had caught her attention. She couldn’t ask him here; too many possible loose ears. They had no idea if those “wizards” had hidden spies anywhere. Better safe than sorry.

Butler continued walking, pretending that he hadn’t heard, though that wasn’t at all unlikely considering the volume of the crowd. They continued down the path until they reached a stoplight. After the light flashed the universal sign for walk, they merged into the crowd as they walked to the other side.

Once there, Butler turned right, heading back to where they had been, only on the opposite side of the street this time. Butler took care to remain as inconspicuous as possible, and Juliet followed his lead. She wasn’t exactly sure what the plan was, but she trusted her brother.

After all, he hadn’t become the youngest graduate of Madame Ko’s Personal Protection Academy on brawn alone. Butler usually preferred to let Artemis to develop the schemes, but when he had to, he could come up with a pretty mean plan. Juliet just hoped that this was one of those times, because frankly, she had no idea what her brother was doing.

Butler slowed his place as he reached the lady’s clothes shop that was directly across from the empty lot he had spent the past hour studying. Juliet mimicked his actions while wondering, attempting to figure out his plan.

“Juliet,” Butler said, shielding his eyes from the sun as he turned to face his sister. “Do you have a pair of sunglasses?”

Juliet blinked. Since when did Butler care about small issues like UV ray exposure? Nonetheless, like a good little sister, she reached for her sunglasses, only to be stopped by her older brother.

“Not those,” he said, looking at her straight in the eyes. “The prescription pair that was specially made.”

She understood what he meant instantly; he wanted the mirrored glasses that protected them against the fairy mesmer. What she didn’t understand was why. Surely there weren’t any cloaked fairies in the vicinity?

Despite her misgivings, she still opened her pack carefully, in order to make sure no foolish pickpocket attempted to snatch it from her, and pulled out two pairs of sunglasses. She kept the jaded green ones for herself, and gave Butler the larger, bluer pair.

Butler put them on casually, nodding his head while wordlessly moving his lips. An innocent bystander would automatically assume he was saying thanks. Juliet, however, knew better, and the fact that she could read lips helped as well.

She mimicked her brother’s actions, placing the specially altered glasses on her nose and turning casually towards the empty lot. Only, it wasn’t so empty anymore.

It took Juliet all of her willpower and then some more to keep her jaw off of the sidewalk.

.oo000HP&AF000oo.

Holly knew she was close the second Foaly’s voice cut off in mid-rant. And it wasn’t just her communicator which died; her wings began to malfunction at the exact same moment. Fortunately, the wings remained functioning just long enough for Holly to near the ground, so that instead of plummeting fifty feet to the ground, she fell only twenty-five.

She did not manage to land on her feet, though. Thanks to a few conveniently placed trees and their branches, she landed far more comfortably on her backside than she would have if there had been nothing to slow her fall. Assuming she was still alive to experience the discomfort at that point, of course.

After checking quickly that all of her limbs were (miraculously) in working order and healing any deep wounds with a small amount of her magic, she turned her attention to her equipment. She was only slightly surprised to find that every single one of her weapons, her communicator, and even her specially designed watch had either ceased to function or had gone haywire and was slowly shutting down.

Holly sighed. Wonderful…just wonderful…

She was willing to bet that, to Foaly, it probably looked as if she had merely blinked out of existence. Just like Artemis had. Though she was annoyed and still a bit sore from her fall, Holly felt the urge to smile.

If Artemis was in this area, then the reason that the tracer had died was not because his heart had stopped beating, but because his kidnappers apparently had some method of rendering fairy technology useless. Meaning there was a good chance that Artemis was still alive. Meaning she had better get up and find him before he annoyed someone so much that they killed him just to get some peace and quiet. Heaven knew just how many times she had come close to doing so herself.

Wincing slightly from a few light bruises that she couldn’t afford to waste magic on (there was no telling what condition she would find Artemis in), Holly got to her feet and surveyed her surroundings. It was then that she became aware of the odd sensation in the air. It wasn’t entirely unlike the clean, pure feeling given off by her own magic, but this one definitely had a …muddier...feel to it. It made her feel both energized, ready for battle, and apprehensive, on her guard.

She shook her head to clear it, suppressing a shudder as the strange muddy feeling slid off her skin with a silent plop. No one could accuse Holly of being squeamish, but still, ew. That was disgusting. And the feeling was still there.

Repressing the slight nausea she felt, Holly turned her attention to her equipment. It was useless and a hindrance now, but she didn’t dare leave it here. Who knew what would happen to it.

Sighing again, Holly closed her eyes and concentrated, pushing aside the queasiness. She could worry about the muddiness later; it didn’t seem to be an apparent threat, aside from how gross it felt to her.

There.

She opened her eyes and faced the setting sun. The muddiness was strongest in that direction. The chances of that being where Artemis was held were high.

Determined, she set off, resolutely ignoring the fact that it felt like she was wading through mud. The muddiness wasn’t hampering her movement, however, but it was there, clinging to every inch of her. It was highly uncomfortable. Artemis was really going to owe her big for this.

All thoughts of how she would never let the boy genius forget this flew from her head the minute she stepped into the clearing and saw the mansion in the center of a lake.

Even by Mud Man standards, building a house in the center of a lake was decidedly odd. Or perhaps it wasn’t. Holly wasn’t an expert on the strange quirks of Mud Men, after all, and she really had no wish to ever try and understand them.

Either way, she had reached her destination. Unless, of course, there was another house somewhere in the middle of this forest that felt as though it was encased in mud. Somehow, she didn’t think so.

Now all she needed was a way to get in, and it was just her luck that there were no muscled-brained Mud Men around when there was an actual use for them. She’d have to figure out another way to get an invitation into the dwelling, then.

Something appeared at the corner of her eye, and she turned quickly, ready to fight if needed. Instead, she stopped breathing. Not literally, but breathing was the last thing on her mind at the moment.

There, at the edge of the lake, legs just barely out of reach of the water, lay the frightening still body of a young boy. The hair was messier and dirtier than she was accustomed to seeing it, and the clothes were alien, but there was no doubt in Holly’s mind about the identity of the body.

As she rushed to his side, she just desperately hoped that she was wrong about his current state of being.

You know what I just noticed? It’s been a little over a year since I got the idea for this fic and started writing it! And it still has only 6 chapters! Wow, I write slow! And boy, do I feel old looking back at the previous chapters. My writings changed a lot, I think. Who says writing fanfiction is a waste of time? I’m learning a lot about writing! So lay off conscience, I’ll try that paper…soon…

Please review and tell me what you think! If you don’t like, please say so in a polite manner, thanks!