Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer [5]
Trawling through gigabytes of data, he found hundreds of references to fairies from nearly every country in the world. Each civilization had its own term for the People, but they were undoubtedly members of the same hidden family. Several stories mentioned a Book carried by each fairy. It was their bible, containing, as it allegedly did, the history of their race and the commandments that governed their extended lives. Of course, this book was written in Gnommish, the fairy language, and would be of no use to any human.
Artemis believed that with today’s technology the Book could be translated. And with this translation you could begin to exploit a whole new group of creatures.
Know thine enemy was Artemis’s motto, so he immersed himself in the lore of the People until he had compiled a huge database on their characteristics. But it wasn’t enough. So Artemis put out a call on the Web: Irish businessman will pay large amount of U.S. dollars to meet a fairy, sprite, leprechaun, pixie. The responses had been mostly fraudulent, but Ho Chi Minh City had finally paid off.
Artemis was perhaps the only person alive who could take full advantage of his recent acquisition. He still retained a childlike belief in magic, tempered by an adult determination to exploit it. If there was anybody capable of relieving the fairies of some of their magical gold, it was Artemis Fowl the Second.
It was early morning before they reached Fowl Manor. Artemis was anxious to bring up the file on his computer, but first he decided to call in on Mother.
Angeline Fowl was bedridden. She had been since her husband’s disappearance. Nervous tension, the physicians said. Nothing for it but rest and sleeping pills. That was almost a year ago.
Butler’s little sister, Juliet, was sitting at the foot of the stairs. Her gaze was boring a hole in the wall. Even the glitter mascara couldn’t soften her expression. Artemis had seen that look already, just before Juliet had suplexed a particularly impudent pizza boy. The suplex, Artemis gathered, was a wrestling move. An unusual obsession for a teenage girl. But then again she was, after all, a Butler.
“Problems, Juliet?”
Juliet straightened hurriedly. “My own fault, Artemis. Apparently I left a gap in the curtains. Mrs. Fowl couldn’t sleep.”
“Hmm,” muttered Artemis, scaling the oak staircase slowly.
He worried about his mother’s condition. She hadn’t seen the light of day in a long time now. Then again, should she miraculously recover, emerging revitalized from her bedchamber, it would signal the end of Artemis’s own extraordinary freedom. It would be back off to school, and no more spearheading criminal enterprises for you, my boy.
He knocked gently on the arched double doors.
“Mother? Are you awake?”
Something smashed against the other side of the door. It sounded expensive.
“Of course I’m awake! How can I sleep in this blinding glare?”
Artemis ventured inside. An antique four-poster bed threw shadowy spires in the darkness, and a pale sliver of light poked through a gap in the velvet curtains. Angeline Fowl sat hunched on the bed, her pale limbs glowing white in the gloom.
“Artemis, darling. Where have you been?”
Artemis sighed. She recognized him. That was a good sign.
“School trip, Mother. Skiing in Austria.”
“Ah, skiing,” crooned Angeline. “How I miss it. Maybe when your father returns.”
Artemis felt a lump in his throat. Most uncharacteristic.
“Yes. Perhaps when Father returns.”
“Darling, could you close those wretched curtains? The light is intolerable.”
“Of course, Mother.”
Artemis felt his way across the room, wary of the low-level clothes chests scattered around the floor. Finally his fingers curled around the velvet drapes. For a moment he was tempted to throw them wide open, then he sighed and closed the gap.
“Thank you, darling. By the way, we really have to get rid of that maid. She is good for absolutely nothing.”
Artemis held his tongue. Juliet had been a hardworking and loyal member of the Fowl household