The Arctic Incident

Not from his home, Fowl Manor, that was for certain. Legally, she put herself on very shaky ground by entering a dwelling without permission. Even though, technically, Fowl had invited her in by kidnapping her last year. Not many lawyers would take your case on the basis of that defense. Anyway the manor was a virtual fortress and had already seen off an entire LEPretrieval team. Why should she fare any better?

There was also the complication that Artemis could very well be expecting her, especially if he was trading with the B’wa Kell. The idea of walking into a trap did not appeal to Holly. She had already been imprisoned once in Fowl Manor. Doubtless her cell was still furnished.

Holly activated the computer navigation package, calling up Fowl Manor on her helmet visor. A soft crimson light began to blip beside the 3-D plan of the house. The building had been red flagged by the LEP. Holly groaned. Now she would be treated to a video warning, just in case there was one Recon officer under the world who had not heard of Artemis Fowl.

Corporal Lili Frond’s face appeared on her screen. Of course they had chosen Lili for this assignment. The bimbo face of the LEP. Sexism was alive and well and living in Police Plaza. It was rumored that Frond’s LEP scores had been bumped up because she was a descendant of the elfin king.

“You have selected Fowl Manor,” said Frond’s image, tossing blond tresses over her shoulder. “This is a red-flagged building. Unauthorized access is strictly forbidden. Do not even attempt a flyover. Artemis Fowl is considered an active threat to the People.”

A picture of Fowl’s appeared beside Frond, a digitally enhanced scowl on his face.

“His accomplice, known only as Butler, is not to be approached under any circumstances. He is generally armed and always dangerous.”

Butler’s massive head appeared beside the other images. “Armed and dangerous” hardly did him justice. He was the only human in history to have taken on a troll and won.

Holly sent the coordinates to the flight computer, and let the wings do the steering for her. The countryside sped by below. Even since her last visit, the Mud Man infestation seemed to have taken a stronger hold. There was barely an acre of land without dozens of their dwellings digging into its soil, and barely a mile of river without one of their factories pouring its poison into the waters.

The sun finally dipped below the horizon, and Holly raised the filters on her visor. Time was on her side now. She had the entire night to come up with a plan. Holly found that she missed Foaly’s sarcastic comments in her ear. Annoying as the centaur’s observations were, they generally proved accurate, and had saved her hide on more than one occasion. She tried to establish a link, but the flares were still high, and there was no reception. Nothing but static.

Fowl Manor loomed in the distance, completely dominating the surrounding landscape. Holly scanned the building with her thermal bar and found nothing but insect and small rodent life-forms. Spiders and mice. Nobody home. That suited her fine. She landed on the head of a particularly gruesome stone gargoyle, and settled in to wait.





Fowl Manor


The original Fowl castle had been built by Aodhán Fowl in the fifteenth century overlooking lowlying country on all sides. A tactic borrowed from the Normans. Never let your enemies sneak up on you. Over the centuries, the castle had been extensively remodeled until it became a manor, but the attention to security remained. The manor was surrounded by three-foot-thick walls, and wired with a state-of-the-art security system.

Butler pulled off the road, opening the estate gates by a remote control. He glanced back at his employer’s thoughtful face. Sometimes he thought that in spite of all his contacts, informants, and employees, Artemis Fowl was the loneliest boy he’d ever met.

“We could bring a couple of those fairy blasters,” he said.

Butler had relieved LEPretrieval One of their weaponry during the previous year’s siege.

Artemis nodded. “Good idea, but remove the nuclear batteries and put them in a bag with some old games and books. We can pretend they’re toys if we’re captured.”

“Yes, sir. Good thinking.”

The Bentley Red Tag crunched up the driveway, activating the ground’s security lights. There were several lamps on in the main house. These were on randomly alternating timers.

Butler undid his seat belt, stepping lithely from the Bentley.

“You need anything special, Artemis?”

Artemis nodded. “Grab some caviar from the kitchen. You wouldn’t believe the muck they feed us in Bartleby’s for ten thousand a semester.”

Butler smiled again. A teenager asking for caviar. He’d never get used to it. The smile withered on his lips halfway to the recently remodeled entrance. A shiver passed across his heart. He knew that feeling well. His mother had used to say that someone had just walked over his grave. A sixth sense. Gut instinct. There was peril somewhere. Invisible, but here nevertheless.

Holly spotted the headlights raking the sky from over a mile away. Optix were no good from this vantage point.