As the Moon Falls into the Sea

Slithering vermin, virulent cheats,

I'll commend you one day, you'll see, you'll see,

When the sky is littered with donkeys and goats,

And the moon falls into the dissonant sea.

Perhaps, Artemis Fowl should have been born a god, for the day that the heavens declared that this child was to be human, it was either stark raving mad or sinfully drunk. Humans were bothersome and terrible enough already, and that was without this boy in their arsenal. With his mind as their ally, the world could actually be tipped right side up.

Hah! Imagine the world right side up for a change. That would be more chaos than a tavern full of dwarves and empty beer bottles with only one toilet.

The only thing worse than Artemis Fowl as a human was Artemis Fowl as a fairy, and he was painfully close to that.

The screen flickered once, or twice, but not even fairy eyes were keen enough to tell the subtle difference. Etched lines of silver trailed the edges of the screen, occasionally reaching far enough as to touch the other side. The colors were all a monotonous shade of blue. After all, reception was not at peak condition when communicating with inhabitants of an underground city.

"Captain Short?" A question, breaking into her thoughts. She dismissed it without a second thought.

Foaly had asked for Holly the second the screen had jumped to irregular, fading life. It had caught the centaur quite off guard – even going so far as to knock him backwards in his spinning chair, causing him to drop his cup of coffee and therefore luring a string of incoherent centaur curses out of his mouth. Rather miffed and disheveled, he had half-twitched, half-stumbled out of his quarters and into the nearest LEP officer, shouting something about a Captain Holly Short and a human boy.

Thank goodness that Holly herself had been patrolling the area for her sake, Foaly's sake, and the unfortunate LEP officer's sake. Deaf fairies were not handy.

"Someone's thoughts are wandering elsewhere, Captain Short." A soft, leveled voice came through the earphones on her end, which was quite a distance underground. Holly's ears twitched slightly, but so slightly that she herself did not notice it. Artemis Fowl, however, unfortunately did. His mouth slid into an apathetic smile.

Holly pursed her lips together until her mouth was naught but a grim little line below her pointed nose. Her fingers wrung themselves ceaselessly into the folds of her uniform pants, until she swore that she had gotten them tangled. "Where my thoughts are is none of your business, Fowl." She spat. Venom would have dripped from her mouth, had she been a rattlesnake. "I don't need you to mind it."

There was a little red light bulb flashing every few seconds at the corner of the screen that Artemis could not see. It reminded her that whatever she was saying was being recorded, stored and saved for later use. She did not want to be caught on tape making a fool of herself, or rather of Artemis making the fool out of her. Sternly, she clamped her hands together before her and stared bravely into the recorder – physical defenses that were easily tumbled like the greatest of empires by the slightest of words.

"I know." He quipped, matter-of-factly, his eyes flitting to the side of the screen for the briefest moment. Butler had let out a grunt of displeasure at the fairy's curt reply. "But," he added, facing the screen with his unbreakable demeanor and unreadable grin, "There is no harm in stating observations."

"No, there isn't." Holly shot back quickly. "And right now, I do observe that you are running around the bush, Fowl. If you do not get to the point without further adieu, I will cut this connection like a barber cuts hair."

"Quite implacable today, I see, Captain Short." Artemis mused, playing with the button on his left sleeve. Without second thought, he continued softly, "But it would just be a shame if you severed this connection. Not only did it take me a considerable amount of time devising a way to contact you; it would also cut your videotape short. Nothing would be accomplished out of that, of course."

Holly opened her mouth in suppressed rage. Brat. Egotistical little brat. She clamped her lips together like a clam and slitted her eyes, glaring through the glass into the face of a mortal boy.

"The little red bulb gives off a miniscule amount of tinted light that even I can see. You see, our reception on this end may, just by chance, be much better than the reception down there." He waved his hand once. "Say hello to your impatient commander for me, Captain Short."

Holly could hear Root's mouth opening in protest already. "Fowl…" she warned, her voice dropping. She lowered her head in a threatening motion, eyes rolling up in impatience and teeth grinding their flat surfaces against each other in apprehension. Her fingers gripped the armrests until her knuckles painted themselves white. Her nails bore into the soft fabric.

Artemis seemed amused. The corners of his sly little mouth tugged heavenwards as he folded his hands in front of his chest. "Already warning me, are you? That was quicker than I expected."

"Don't play with me, Fowl. If you're going to say something, then you might as well say it now. I'm not going to listen to your crap for much longer, I tell you." Holly said.

A soft, almost inaudible grunt came whispering out of Holly's earphones. The fairy's eyes instinctively flashed to the side to where she supposed the massive man they called Butler stood. Artemis must have heard it also and if not, he followed the fairy's line of vision and came to rest his gaze on his childhood friend. Playfully, Artemis asked, "Oh, would you like to talk to Butler instead of me, Captain Short? I'm quite sorry, but Juliet is busy in the kitchen."

"Shut your mouth, Fowl." Holly defended, glaring through fairy eyes. "Now, what do you want?"

"I wanted to talk to you, quite frankly." He responded, with not the slightest hint of arrogance, of ignorance, in a flighty air of nonchalance.

"What do you want to say then?"

Artemis did not answer. His mouth was pressed shut like a piece of paper under a ton of books. His hands dropped to his sides slowly, slithering from sight like lizards. If he was pale, she could not see, but the shade of his skin against the other blues of the picture was very light, almost abnormally so. No sound slipped through her earphones, which were getting clammy against her pointed ears. Artemis Fowl, quite ironically, was struggling with words to say.

Holly noted this with pleasure, indulging herself in a simple, quick smile. Her eyes danced with fire. In the end, Artemis Fowl was nothing more than a mortal, than a boy. His cheek, she noticed, was still marked with blotches of darker blues – bruises from the punch she had given him. His steady stare lowered, facing the table. As big of a criminal mastermind he was, as intelligent he could be, Artemis Fowl the second was really, truly, just a little boy.

So therefore, like she would treat a little boy, Holly waited patiently and did not expect or prod for an answer until Artemis lifted his head again. Slowly, as if struggling, he said, "Thank you."

"What?"

"I thank you."

Holly almost banged her head against the edge of the table, but luckily she had caught herself in time. Regaining composure and a façade of calmness in a record-breaking three seconds flat, Holly closed her eyes, lifted her hands to her mouth and coughed once, like the stereotypical professionals on human television.

"I…um…well," she started, rather bluntly and unprofessionally, "Well, what are you thanking me for, exactly?"

His face drained of its entire quandary. His mouth twisted itself into a seemingly innocuous grin. It was as sweet as a baby and twice as annoying. There was no smugness or triumph in his expression. It was, shockingly enough, simply a smile. Holly wondered if in all the time she had been in his house, talked and screamed and looked at him, if he had ever really smiled.

"Well?" Holly rushed, waiting for an answer.

"I want to thank you," Artemis said, calculating and as placid as still water, "for your favor."

"I have never done a favor for the likes of obnoxious people like you." Holly said, still in the midst of fathoming as to the reason of Artemis' sudden approach. He really was unpredictable. She hated unpredictable people.

"Yes," he continued, "Yes, you have. I thank you for my mother."

Oh. Yes. The favor. Holly blinked once, twice, even three times, before she realized that Root would be buffeting her with questions until she died. That would be a long, long time. Holly scowled, rolling her eyes and clicking her tongue. As if it didn't matter a care in the world, she said, "That's it? That's what you want to say to me?"

Artemis nodded, the bridge of the smile did not dip, did not fall the least bit. "That's quite it."

Holly frowned. She frowned at the boy, at his words, at his cocky demeanor, and even in his slight accent. She frowned because other than frowning, she really didn't know what to do. Finally, she surrendered, sighed heavily and drawled, as if waving the white flag of defeat, "You really are impossible, Artemis Fowl."

"I know." He responded, devoid of thought.

"Well then, I will accept your thanks."

"That's all I ask."

She stood up, preparing to go. She stretched out her thin, short limbs, feeling the blood return to circulate through her veins. This boy was going to be the death of her, whether in his lifetime, or in the end of hers.

Artemis watched her as she threatened to leave, quiet and in a way, submissive. The swinging chair made a full circle, before settling in a position in which it faced the adjacent wall. He watched as she placed her wispy fingers on the doorknob, all the while as the little red light bulb flashed on and off, on and off.

Then it flashed off, unwilling and reluctant to turn on again. It was at that moment, solitary and confined, with no one to see her and ridicule and deride her, that Holly Short turned around and looked at the blue, fizzing screen. She stared silently and straight into the eyes of a mortal boy who had kidnapped a fairy, stepped on the brink of a cross-species war and used a miracle to cure his mother before he was even a teenager.

She smiled.

It was very slight, hardly to be considered a smile at all, but it was there, visible or invisible and the boy could see it. Her eyes, they danced with amusement and even perhaps a sort of augmented respect in them, intertwining with the sparkle of fairy magic. Her fingers slipped on the brass doorknob; its metal was cold against her fingers. This would not be the last time she would close the door to Artemis Fowl.

"You're welcome, Artemis." She said, gently.

He returned the smile sincerely and nodded, leaning back into his chair. "Goodbye, Holly."

"Goodbye."