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Fowl Manor is an imposing and impenetrable fortress. It looms ominously over the Irish countryside and stands as a testament to the residing family’s dedication to their legacy of crime and underworld dealings. Recent generations have tried to lighten the manor up by creating lavish rose gardens and setting loose roaming peacocks and paying exorbitant prices for Rodin sculptures that the public have never set their eyes on. Yet these charming additions inescapably fall victim to the Fowl curse and transform, seemingly corrupted by the grounds they rest on.
This is why, as innocent as he may look in his off-white knit sweater and tiny loafers, this cherub faced child roaming the seemingly endless halls of his ancestral home was Not To Be Trusted.
His bodyguard, who had guarded him since his birth two years ago, did not generally drop his guard around him, however on this occasion Butler was being lectured by his uncle for letting their cars become separated on their return journey last night. Major was a strict mentor and this was not Butler’s first dressing down. He made sure to be in the dojo and away from his curious charge when such a lecture was to be expected.
His charge, Artemis Fowl Jr., was not impressed by his bodyguard’s indiscretion and was of course well aware of the situation. His tiny feet carried him to the security centre. Artemis Junior had calculated that Butler would be distracted for the next half hour, possibly more judging by the furious look on Major’s face on the CCTV as he stormed down to the dojo on the lookout for his nephew. Artemis waited until Major had reached the dojo entrance, thanked the security guard for letting him know where his bodyguard was and went on his merry way in the opposite direction.
The hallways of Fowl Manor were made from centuries-old brick and wooden floors. It was a wonder they still lasted today. The thick dark oak boards covered in faded Persian carpets usually groaned from usage. Little Artemis was still too small to worry about the floorboards giving him away.
Usually Artemis would be under surveillance of a nanny. As soon as he realised the opportunity he had, he decided that today would be the day. Minutes after Butler announced he would be going down to the dojo to train, Artemis executed his plan.
A tantrum was thrown. Ms. Nora hadn’t known what hit her until she wiped the contents of his lunch off her face and dress. She was far from amused by his little giggles as Artemis sat in his chair looking very pleased with himself. He had timed his tantrum well and Ms. Nora stormed downstairs to clean herself up whilst trying hard to look dignified despite being covering yoghurt and fruit.
As quickly as his small feet could carry him, he took a left and toddled down yet another hallway. Artemis finally reached his destination, which was where he encountered his first problem. He couldn’t reach the door handle. The faces of generations of Fowl’s stared down at him expectantly from their portraits.
No worries. Artemis had planned for this. He stared at the grandfather clock at the end of the hallway and waited impatiently for his unknowing accomplice to round the corner.
There she came, as expected.
Due to the nature of his mission, Artemis couldn’t rely on any of the adults in the household to help him.
Rounding the corner of the hallway, sporting pink jean dungarees and blonde braided pigtails was Juliet Butler. There was exactly one other child living in the manor and Juliet had already been accomplice to many of his adventures.
Artemis would have smirked if he knew how to. She wearily approached him.
“Hi Artemis,” Juliet hesitated to engage in conversation with the two year old. He would often ignore her and return to his books.
“Hello Juliet,” he replied excitedly, bouncing on the heels of his loafered feet.
“What happened to Ms. N?”
“She’s busy,” he simply said, not offering an explanation as to why or how.
“Hmm. Whatya doing?”
“I need your help,” he said, pointing to the door handle he was unable to reach.
Juliet shook her head, her blonde braids hitting her in the face as she did. She wasn’t letting him in there. Her brother would kill her if he knew. "No way!"
“Don’t you want to see her?” Artemis lured with a grin and as Juliet’s eyes grew big in understanding he knew she was in. She bit her lip in hesitation.
“We won’t do anything,” he reassured her. “We’re only having a look.”
Considering the age difference between them, one would assume that Juliet would be able to say no to the toddler, but Artemis was every bit a Fowl and emotional manipulation was part of his genetic makeup. And he was right. She wanted to see her.
She opened the door and they stepped inside.
Artemis immediately dragged a chair from the spartan bedroom to the only painting in the room depicting a large wave. It was very calming. He had once observed his father pull a painting from the wall to reveal a wall safe. Ever since the idea of hidden treasures had lit a small fire within him. Artemis had spent the next two weeks and what few moments of alone time he could obtain to look for secret safes hidden in the manor. He had even been able to open one of them. Artemis himself felt that was quite an accomplishment. He was, after all, only 28 months old.
Artemis swung the portrait on its well-oiled hinges and heard Juliet gasp in excitement. He hesitated. The portrait safe he had successfully opened had been situated in his parents bedroom. The code had been his mother’s birthday. Artemis very much doubted Butler would be using the same code.
He turned around to face Juliet.
“When is your birthday, Juliet,” he demanded, hands on hips, finally at eye level with her thanks to the chair.
She was taken aback by the question. Artemis hadn’t ever had much of an interest in her. “Oh! It’s in May!”
Artemis pouted angrily. “The exact date!”
Juliet was already having second thoughts about helping him. She was, however, painfully aware if she told him to leave now he would definitely throw a tantrum. She’d once witnessed her older brother inform Artemis that reading time was over after he had ignored Ms. N and hid in the library after being tucked in. He had screamed and cried for two hours until he fell asleep exhausted in Butler’s arms. Juliet was only six years old and not prepared to deal with the storm that was an angry Artemis Junior.
“Sixth of May,” she mumbled and Artemis immediately turned back around, momentarily appeased.
His fingers, still sticky from the spilt yoghurt, typed in 0-6-0-5 on the keypad and it sprung open. Juliet was by his side in an instant. They marvelled at the contents of the safe. Among the items were shrike throwing knives, stun grenades, a cosh and a small derringer gun that would have fit perfectly in Artemis’s small, albeit sticky hand, yet those weapons did not hold Artemis and Juliet’s attention for long. They were only interested in one thing:
Butler’s Sig Sauer.
Artemis reached in and his small fingers grabbed the gun box. It was matte black and engraved with silver letters was a single word:
Emma .
Butler stuck his head out of the dojo door to ensure that his uncle was out of hearing range and then sighed heavily. Uncle had just finished shouting at him while also using his body as a punching bag for a taekwondo workout.
He straightened his suit and headed back into the manor. The training session had taken more time than he had expected which meant Butler was rightfully starving by this point. As he neared the kitchen he heard familiar high pitched sounds of complaining.
The nanny immediately sprung to her feet when she saw Butler.
“And where have you been?” She demanded angrily. Butler raised an eyebrow in silent disapproval of both her question and her appearance. She looked like she had been in a food fight. The chef who had been listening to her tales of woe immediately scurried away, relieved the nanny had found someone else to take her anger out on.
“Were you my employer I’d answer that,” Butler replied steely and looked around. “Is Master Artemis taking a nap?” He asked, worry suddenly growing like a wildfire in his belly. His charge had recently declared, in an uncharacteristically long speech, the reasons why he would no longer require an afternoon nap. It had been the beginning of many tantrums thrown out of sheer exhaustion, yet little Artemis refused to relent.
“A nap!” She exclaimed, wringing her hands. “If only!” And began a detailed description of how the child had carefully planned his assault on her and was out to get her.
In theory, the two metre tall bodyguard should not be particularly worried about a two year old, but as facts were his charge was a Fowl and a worryingly clever Fowl. Butler, after realising he wasn’t going to get an answer out of the nanny, quickly navigated upstairs to the nursery. Making a conscious effort to look calm, despite knowing that young Artemis had been left to his own devices for over thirty minutes, Butler quietly opened the door to the nursery hoping to find his young charge asleep in his bed. He peered around the room, scanning it vainly in search of a neatly brushed head of black hair.
Juliet retrieved the box from the small child before he dropped it and placed it reverently on the floor. Artemis crawled down from the chair and sat cross legged besides her. He stares expectantly at her, a childish glee evident in his big blue eyes. Juliet stared back and if she had been a few years older she would have questioned letting a two year old get hold of a gun. She clicked open the case and they both stared in wonder at the black and silver gun.
Artemis tried to reach into the box but she swatted his hands away.
“Arty, no!” She whispered. “You promised we were only looking. And anyway your hands are dirty,” she added for good measure.
Artemis’s brows furrowed and he looked as though he was about to complain, but the sound of heavy footsteps came from the hallway.
They both jumped to their feet and Juliet found herself looking at Artemis for guidance. He was fretting nervously by the door as the footsteps grew louder and Juliet quickly realised that Artemis wasn’t going to be much help in getting them out of trouble. And she would invariably be in much more trouble than him. The heavy safe door had swung shut while they had been spellbound by Emma, so Juliet did the only thing she could think of.
She chucked the gun box out of the window.
Major paused by his nephew's door, thinking he heard sounds from inside. Major opened the door without knocking and was greeted by the faces of his niece and his principal’s son. He had grown very fond of the children, both extraordinary in their own way.
“Juliet. Master Artemis. What are you doing here?”
“Uncle! We were… we were…” Juliet said, panicking.
Artemis pulled on Juliet’s dungarees to indicate that they should leave. “We were exploring, Major! Goodbye Major.”
As they disappeared around the corner, Major marvelled at how quickly a Fowl learned to lie.
Butler was looking for Artemis in the library when he heard tiny footsteps running past the door. Relieved, he saw his charge and Juliet on their way outside to play. They were deeply enthralled by a certain rose bush when Ms Nora, who had thankfully decided not to quit her job today, hurried them inside for a bath.
It was late at night when Butler was finally able to retire to his room. Another party was thrown by the young Mr. and Mrs. Fowl and they had stayed up late entertaining guests. Part of Butler’s duties included escorting the guests and the remaining staff out and closing up the manor for the night.
Some men like to read a book or take a relaxing bath to end their day, but Butler preferred to polish his gun. After a quick shower and changing into a t-shirt and sweatpants Butler opened the safe and stared dumbfounded at the empty space.
It took a few moments for the neurons to fire up in his brain and when they did thoughts went racing through his head. He methodically laid out the facts. Emma was missing. Butler found it hard to believe that someone could have managed to break into the manor only to steal his gun.
He would have to tell uncle, he realised. No, he decided he would figure out who had taken it first. He couldn’t deal with a dressing down from uncle two days in a row.
It could only have been someone from the staff, Butler reasoned. Perhaps Mark from security? They hated each other equally but Mark was ex military, had his own gun and was far too professional to engage in petty theft. How about Greta from surveillance? She hadn’t taken his dismissal of a date very well.
As Butler examined the keypad and considered dusting for fingerprints, he noticed a strange white mark by the zero button.
He brought his face closer and smelled. The smell was sweet and oddly familiar. His soldier brain raced through all the scents he had encountered in the day, categorising everything from Juliet’s bubblegum shampoo as he was braiding her hair in the morning to the heavy scent of cognac and red wine from the guests at the party.
Fig and honey.
The memory clicked into place in his mind. He realised he had smelt it in the kitchen on Ms. Nora. Butler’s brows furrowed. He had done extensive security checks on that woman. The woman was responsible for Artemis’s wellbeing and Butler hadn’t left a stone untouched while ensuring she was not a threat. Butler almost went into a full-blown panic and found himself halfway down the hallway until he realised why she had that scent on her. It was because Artemis had thrown his lunch on her.
Butler could not remember how long he stood in the hallway, using every meditation technique Madame Ko had taught him to calm down.
She hadn’t taught him how to handle a break-in from a toddler, he thought bitterly.
Butler thought he imagined it, but when night settled on the manor, Fowl Manor seemed warm and almost homely. Butler walked through pitch-dark hallways, the floorboards remaining silent despite his weight.
As he reached the nursery door he paused, his hand resting gently on the door handle. Soft light spilled out from under the door and he hesitated. He knocked quietly once and entered the room.
Artemis lay awake in a bed far too big for him, bedsheets swallowing him up. The night light was plugged in which meant that Artemis must have crawled out of bed to turn it on. Butler wordlessly walked over to him and sat down on a corner of the bed. Artemis scooted closer to him.
“I have a stomach ache,” he whispered feebly.
Butler nodded sagely and rested his hand on Artemis’s head.
Butler’s deep bass filled the room “Sometimes” he began, “when you have done something you shouldn’t have, you get a guilty conscience.” He pointed a finger to Artemis’s stomach. “And you can feel it here.”
Artemis realised that Butler knew what he had done. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks as he suddenly began to cry. Butler stayed put, unsure of how to comfort the child and feeling the early struggles between professionalism and emotional attachment. Artemis eventually settled down enough to manage speaking in between hiccups.
“We just… I only… I… I didn’t mean to steal. I’m sorry!”
Butler had already forgiven the child, and his heart softened tenfold by Artemis’s uncharacteristic outburst of emotion. He wondered if he should praise or scold the child for breaking into his safe. He decided to not address it at all.
“Why did you do it?” He asked, curiously.
Artemis looked earnestly at Butler and simply replied, “Because you’re my Butler.”
“Ah. I see.” Butler didn’t understand but clearly it was important to the child. “I forgive you, Artemis. From now on, no more secrets.”
Artemis wiped his tears off his puffed face and smiled a shy smile. “My stomach doesn’t hurt anymore.”
Artemis was struggling to keep his eyes open and Butler reluctantly tucked the child back into bed.
“The rose bushes?” He asked before turning off the night light.
Artemis hummed in agreement as he nodded off to sleep, dreaming of future safes and hidden treasures. This time with Butler by his side.