Trance’s POV 

I am downstairs in less than thirty minutes, and on a first-class British Airways flight from London to Dublin in under two hours. The plane waits on the tarmac for nearly an hour. How boring. I sit through the flight attendant’s safety talk and try to ignore the annoying teenage humans behind me. Must these creatures talk constantly?

I love flying. I got to get on airplanes quite often under Master’s employ. I remember when I was still with my fairy family we’d go on above-ground jaunts and take our mechanical wings. Usually we went to the UK, with “Stonehenge” and such. I find it quite amusing that the humans think that an abandoned fairy pizza parlor is some type of prehistoric calendar.

I have a bit of time to think my plan through before we land in Dublin. I have a vague outline of what I plan to do, but it has many variables. I know little about the mark. I know where he lives and what his name is, but I don’t know the living situation or even have the blueprints for the house. Maybe I should do a bit of research.

Once we are at cruising altitude, I pull out my laptop from my carry-on bag. Google would be useful in this situation. My fingers quiver as I type the name: A-R-T-E-M-I-S F-O-W-L. The computer hums for a few seconds, then a list of links pop up on the screen. 1-10 out of 1,300,029 hits.

I scroll down the list. All of the recommendations are for an Artemis Fowl, Sr. The kid is in his teens, so I assume he’s not a senior. I retype the keywords: A-R-T-E-M-I-S F-O-W-L, J-R. 502,352 results. Again I scroll down the list. The third link is for Interpol. Interpol? I click it. It’s a profile of the mark, but it’s not very useful. Picture, name, birth date, place of residence, close family members, and an incomplete summary of his misdeeds. Not much. To see the full criminal record, I have to have a password. Psh, like a password’s going to stop any real hacker.

I lean down and dig in my backpack for a second. I pull out a small black pouch and unzip it. Inside are some of the things I picked up at the house. I pull out a small computer chip. On the side in embossed gold letters are the words CodeBreaker 5000. Completely illegal of course, but to do illegal things you have to use illegal things. And some stuff you have to get on the Black Market. This is the best part of working for an immoral, egotistical rich guy. You get lots of cool toys.

I shove the green chip in the side of the Dell notebook and bypass a few windows. The program begins working on the password. It takes five minutes, but it’s worth it.

Artemis Fowl’s whole life is before me now. It says that he wasn’t convicted for any of the crimes he committed because of lack of evidence and because he is a minor. I gape for a few second because this thirteen-year-old’s record is nearly as long as mine, and that’s saying something. My résumé is longer than Santa’s naughty list. And the kid had a genius IQ, so he had probably gotten away with twice as much stuff as is mentioned. This was one big fish to snare.

This site is amazingly useful. It gave me the residence address, residents of the residence, blueprints of the residence, Artemis’s known aliases, and what school he goes to (St. Bartleby’s School for Young Gentlemen.) There are four other people in the house besides our young genius; his mother, Angeline, his father, Artemis Senior, his bodyguard, Butler, and Butler’s sister, Juliet. Juliet is reportedly seventeen. I’m about seventeen in human years. I can easily charade as one of her friends to fool Artemis into trusting me.

Just to be safe, I research Juliet too. She guards Angeline half of the year and goes to a local boarding school the other half. (June’s All-Girl’s High School) She has a clean record except for a few minor assaults on fellow classmates. Perfect.

I close my laptop lid and try to relax. But I can’t. I mean, I have committed federal crimes before. Grand Theft Auto, bank robbery, etc… But never something like murder, or a kidnapping. Nothing that would actually hurt someone directly. I just feel like I need a bath more than anything else in the world. I just feel really guilty. Not something that happens every day. I can’t be nervous, though. It’s harder to keep up Shifting magic when you’re feeling strong emotions. I finger a lock of hair and let my guard down for just second. The lock turns back to it’s original silvery white. Shoot! I have to be careful, especially when I’m actually doing the kidnapping. No one can know that I’m a Shifter.

And I must be getting into deep trouble, because my fairy intuition is buzzing like a bee hive.

Some other stories by 1crazyhollyfan:

• Still here.
• Heaven at Christmas
• "Foaly's Visit" announcement
• The Long Awaited Part 3 of The Breakup!
• In the Face of Hardship