Holly clambered after him, struggling up the human-size steps. "Wait! Just wait," she called, overtaking Artemis and looking him in the eye from one step up. "I know you, Artemis. You like to play your genius card close to your chest until the big reveal. And that's worked out for us so far. But this time you need to let me in. I can help. So, tell me the truth, do you have a plan?" Artemis met his friend's gaze and lied to her face. "No," he said. "No plan.

Just what we need," moaned Holly. "Artemis Fowl with magical powers.

Wait," said Butler. "Just wait, Holly. Artemis has a plan." He squinted through the green dome. "What is your plan, Artemis?" All Artemis could do was smile and shrug.

I am Butler. Anything I say sounds scary.

We get an apartment together, and after a whirlwind courtship you marry my sister and honeymoon in Vegas.

Thankfully the rest of the world assumed that the Irish were crazy, a theory that the Irish themselves did nothing to debunk. They had somehow got it into their heads that each fairy lugged around a pot of gold with him wherever he went. While it was true that LEP had a ransom fund, because of its officers' high-risk occupation, no human had ever taken a chunk of it yet. This didn't stop the Irish population in general from skulking around rainbows, hoping to win the supernatural lottery.

What's that supposed to mean? A wolf's head on a stick. Big wolf barbecue tonight? Bring your own wolf?