7 years after I started this … the last chapter! Technically before the movie comes out!

This draft is entirely unbetaed, which is entirely my own fault. Any weirdness in this chapter is therefore also my fault.

If you're confused by the first part of this chapter, I took a left turn to tie up loose ends from The Last Guardian (can you believe that came out in 2012?!) before wrapping up with Artemis. If something looks familiar it's probably from the book; I quoted liberally.

"Madam? I need to speak to you."

Vinyáya had expected a quick cleanup now that the excitement of getting Fowl's cooperation was over, but expectations, as usual, failed to live up to reality.

As Section Eight's lead warlock, Cirrus should have been overseeing Fowl and his associates' mindwipes. That he was here instead did not bode well.

"It's urgent," Cirrus added, and said nothing more as he led Vinyáya away from the estate's main driveway. It wasn't until they'd arrived at their apparent destination — the ruins of what had been a small stone fort, with most of Eight's warlocks on-scene milling around — that Cirrus continued. "Do you remember the Berserkers?"

Vinyáya blinked. "The ancient company of fairy warriors from Taillte? Who lie buried, guarding the fairy retreat and Danu's Gate?"

"The very same. We've found them."

"What?" said Vinyáya. "Now? Here?"

"As you said to Fowl, this is the battlefield of Taillte. I noticed some significant irregularities in the local magical fields in the shuttle when we were flying in earlier. We initially thought it was due to Fowl's mother's presence on the other side of the time-stop, but further examination revealed a major magical nexus here. All signs point to this being the Berserkers' final resting place from ten thousand years ago. There should be another tower below which Bruin Fadda constructed as part of the binding, and presumably the humans built on top of that."

Vinyáya was still trying to wrap her head around the idea that the Berserkers had emerged from story and song, straight into the middle of her field ops scene. "If the Berserkers are really buried here, then how did it take us this long to notice? The LEP has been active in this area before."

"It's been ten thousand years. The spellwork has started blending into the landscape, as it were. You need some pretty specialized equipment to notice the fluctuations in the magical field, and it hasn't been part of the LEP field kit for a long time, even before they started focusing more on technological operations strategies."

"And the Berserkers are all still there?"

"Bruin Fadda did good work," said Cirrus apologetically. "There are definitely still fairy souls present. It's possible — likely, even — that some of the Berserkers have already passed on to the afterlife, but there are definitely still fairy souls present. I'd say maybe half of them are still here?"

Vinyáya shuddered at the thought of ten thousand years spent waiting in the darkness and nothingness, waiting for a summons that might never come.

"Well," she said, "this is certainly an incredible discovery. It'll have to go through the full Council, of course, but if I lean on Councillor Frond about all the gold I saved in not paying Fowl's ransom, we might actually get this resolved within a year."

"… why wait?" said Cirrus.

"What?"

"We'll need to remove the human structure to get to Bruin Fadda's tower underneath. Fowl and his associates are already getting mind-wiped, so we can insert some explanation about the tower's destruction while we're in their minds. The magical demolitions team are on hand, too —" a few of the warlocks standing around the tower waved — "and tonight is the full moon. I don't think this was a coincidence."

"But what about the Council? And the priesthood?"

Cirrus met Vinyáya's gaze squarely. "Remember the robe you're wearing. That's why you're here."

… there are powers greater than yours, Councillor Crane had said when they were setting out from the Haven shuttleport. If she had intended that in reference to the Berserkers, rather than the suggestion about operational field strategy that Vinyáya had taken it as — well, that did make more sense. Councillor Crane was the priesthood's representative on the Council; this was her remit.

"Don't the Berserkers deserve their rest as soon as possible?" said Cirrus quietly.

As the tutelary of war, the Crow-mother whose name Vinyáya had invoked would certainly be concerned with ensuring her warriors were sent to their proper afterlife. "Very well," she said.

Another thought occurred to her. "Tell the team handling Fowl's mind-wipe to remember the detail about his father. We'll have to take up his offer about property if we're blowing up his tower. A promise is a promise."

The actual procedure to free the Berserkers was simpler than Vinyáya would have imagined. Cirrus and his warlocks were handling the majority of the work, obviously; she was just there to preside over the ceremonies, and to step in if her authority was needed. Root had also wandered over to watch, since unlike his subordinates, he had the clearance to know what was actually happening.

With the judicious use of the demolitions team's magic and explosives, the human tower was soon destroyed, revealing Bruin Fadda's tower a full twenty feet underground. Undoing the first lock, the one that bound the Berserkers to wait, was not nearly as efficient; the rest of the warlocks swarmed over the structure, examining the glowing runes and conferring with each other in hushed voices.

When constructing his enchantments, Bruin Fadda had used black magic, so called because its potency was driven by sacrifice. As such, it was a style well-suited for war, when the battlefield ran red with blood and fairy warriors laid down their lives, but it had fallen out of favor as the People grew accustomed to peace. The Berserkers had laid down their lives willingly, and Bruin Fadda had used that sacrifice to power the lock now that kept them from their afterlives. It would take another sacrifice, equal in symbolism if not magnitude, to open the lock now.

The sword and spear that she carried were glimmering faintly in the light of the runes on the tower's stones. She pulled the sword a few inches from its sheath and deliberately cut her palm on the blade, then smeared her bloody hand across the runes. The runes' radiance intensified to an eye-blinding brightness as the sacrifice — fairy blood, freely given upon the Claíomh Solais — was assessed and found sufficient.

The soil began to fizz and bubble as a hundred fairy warriors rose from the earth and passed through the lock, one by one. A hundred resurrected spirits hovered in the air, faintly transparent, and all watching her.

"Noble warriors," she said in ringing tones. "It has been ten thousand years since last you walked under the moon. The world has changed more than you can know. Victory over the humans will not be achieved through open warfare. We have not forgotten our most ancient foe, but we will endure as long as is needed.

"Berserkers! Long have you waited, longer than you could have known. The People have asked more of you than they should. I thank you for all your millennia of service, and I free you of your charge. Go now to your rest, with my blessing."

Bruin Fadda had assumed that whoever released the Berserkers would have need of a fighting force, and therefore had included a geas to ensure their compliance with the orders of the one who opened the gate. That geas caught the Berserkers now; although many of them looked disappointed that they would never avenge themselves on the humans, nonetheless they accepted her mandate.

"War-mother, we obey," said their captain, who had been Oro of the Danu. A faint white light appeared on each spirit's chest and began to spin, glowing brighter with each revolution. After a few moments, the light took up each spirit entirely, and then the Berserkers disappeared, passing at long last to the afterlife.

The warlocks were still laboring over the runes. Cirrus approached her and bowed.

"Thank you for your assistance with the Berserkers, madam. If we could trouble you a little longer, we believe Bruin Fadda sealed his own spirit in the stone as part of the second lock. If you're willing —"

She inclined her head, considering the tower's foundations. Cirrus had spoken correctly. As the Berserkers' souls had been bound to wait until time of need, so had Bruin Fadda incorporated his own soul as the final stage of the second lock that would unleash Danu's power, the last harbinger before the storm.

The spear she carried was made in the image of the Lúin Celtchair, wrought by the greatest artisans of the Dé Danann, the ancient fairy people. She flicked a spark of magic over the spearhead, waking its power. The entire weapon began to glow, blade and shaft alike.

The Lúin Celtchair had many virtues, but most famously, it was the spear that could not miss its target. She touched the point of the spear to the stone; the runes slid away from the point as the blade cut through layers of enchantment and then one final layer of illusion.

An elfin face appeared in the stone, features roughly hewn from rock. Slowly, the eyes opened. "Who wakes me from my slumbers? Who calls me back from the brink of eternity?"

"Do you not know me?" she said.

Bruin Fadda looked as surprised as rock could be. "Crow-mother, I greet you," he said. "When I entombed myself, I could not have imagined that you would be there to awaken me. Do the People yet live? Has the situation become so dire that you now lead the People into battle?"

She said, "It has been ten thousand years."

The warlock frowned. "My spell was not intended to last so long. Where now are the Berserkers who were buried here with me? Have they discharged their duty already and gone to their rest?"

"I released them, those that remained," she said. "Even if their spirits all still here — even if we had all the armies of the People who were amassed at Taillte, it would still not be sufficient to grant the People victory over the humans."

"But you are the War-crow!" said Bruin Fadda. "Why came you here if not as the herald of war?"

Her eyes went to Root, who stood with Cirrus and the other warlocks a safe distance away. "As I was reminded recently, I am also the harbinger of peace. I woke you so that you as well may go to your proper rest."

"But the humans—" the warlock began, his face twisted with hate.

"The world has changed more than you can know. The ones who killed your kin are long dead. Unless you yourself would unleash Danu's power and open the lock you have spent so long guarding, there is nothing more to be done. It is time for you to pass on."

Ten thousand years ago, Bruin Fadda had constructed a magical lock that would unleash the full fury of the Earth-mother and kill all the humans on the surface of the planet. But even then, in the full depths of his hatred and despair, he had not thought to open the gate himself; he had been content to await someone else's command. Now —

"I submit to your authority," the warlock sighed wearily. "And I thank you. It has been so long since I saw my family …"

Bruin Fadda's craggy face slowly disappeared from the stone. She could no longer sense his presence, but the stone still remained densely covered in runes.

Cirrus said quietly, "The second lock is still there. It's unlikely that anyone would be able to access it now, after its guardian has passed on, but to ensure the People's safety, it should be dismantled entirely."

Dimly, she could see the impression of a blood-red handprint, bubbling with magma, a visual promise of Danu's power. If the lock were opened, then the Earth-mother's wrath would be unleashed, and all the humans would die, and the People could take back the surface that they had lost at Taillte.

She considered the stone. She was the tutelary of war; surely she of all the dé Danann had the right?

But Root and Cirrus and the other warlocks were still staring at her expectantly, the witnesses of the People of the modern era, a kinder, gentler era. As she had said earlier, the People had changed; they were not today the same as the People who had gone to war and been defeated at Taillte. Danu now turned a softer face to her children whom she sheltered. To open the lock now would be a perversion of the Earth-mother's power.

"Very well," she said.

Like the spear, the sword she carried was a relic of high lineage and ancient history, made to channel power. As she had done with the spear earlier, she breathed magic onto the blade to awaken it, then pulled the awakened blade fully from its sheath and plunged it into the stone.

The tower was split nearly in two. Sparks flew; the runes flared and then sputtered out. The handprint that would have opened the lock faded away. Bruin Fadda was a warlock of great skill, but even his power could not stand against the Claíomh Solais, the sword that could not be defeated.

There was the sound of a bell ringing faintly in the distance, growing ever louder. She met the eyes of the fairies watching her.

"Let it be peace, then. So be it."

Vinyáya blinked. The headache that had been brewing earlier suddenly bore down on her with its full force. No doubt she'd spent too much time in the time-stop, though she'd never been particularly prone to time-stop fatigue. She sighed and rubbed her temples.

"Are the mind-wipes done? And has someone brought Cudgeon back into the time-stop?"

Cirrus' warlocks had done an excellent job of covering up the magical destruction of the tower. The rocks strewn about on the ground looked as weathered as if they had been there naturally instead of applied by magic.

"Both teams have reported in," said Cirrus. "… Ma'am, are you feeling all right? Let me take that for you — "

She handed over the antique weaponry — had it always been so heavy? — and waved off his concern. "Then we're done here. We can finalize the cover story en route underground."

"I'll take care of it," said Root.

"It's been a long day for all of us," she said. "Let's not overstay our welcome. It's past time we went back home."

Artemis could hear a voice calling his name. There was a face behind the voice, but it was blurred, hard to make out. His father, perhaps?

"My son," the voice said. "Come find me. I'm in the Arctic. Look for Kamar, Vassikhin, Britva, in Murmansk… I'm waiting for you …"

He opened his eyes. Butler and Juliet were standing over him. Juliet's cheeks were flushed with excitement, and even Butler looked slightly more emotional than usual.

"Artemis," she gasped. "Your mother. She . . ."

Artemis felt a lead ball drop in his stomach.

"Yes?"

"I think she's back!" said Juliet.

Artemis followed out of his bedroom to the manor's main staircase. There was a wraithlike figure in a toweled robe standing there. Her hair was wet from the shower.

"Arty?" she called. "Arty, are you there?"

Artemis wanted to answer; he wanted to run up the staircase to embrace his mother. But his feet were planted to the ground. He couldn't move.

"Happy Christmas!" sang Angeline as she crossed the room, arms outstretched, and hugged her son.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into Artemis' ear. "For everything, these last few months. I know I haven't been myself. But I'm here again. Things are going to change, and for the better."

I have my mother back, thought Artemis. And I'm going to get my father back too. This really is Christmas.

And we're done! Seven years after I started! (Rambly worldbuilding notes to come ... later ... at some point...)

(As a note, since I realized this was unclear. Since this AU closes off the events of the series from happening, Artemis never travels back to the pre-book 1 timeframe. The events mentioned in ch2 with Opal and the Spelltropy epidemic involved the younger Artemis of that original timeline.)

… so. The movie. Disney sure has made a lot of changes (when they first announced Judi Dench's casting I thought she would play Vinyáya ;_;) but let's all remember, it could always be worse! As long as they don't turn this into the story of a spunky redheaded female lead fascinated with humans and ~the world above~ who has to deal with her disapproving, overbearing parental figure, we dodged a Neutrino.

If you've made it all the way to the bottom here — thank you for reading all this way!