The constrained wind had built itself up to mini-cyclone intensity and could not be constrained. And so it exited. Rather abrasively. Blowing open Mulch's bum-flap and slamming into the rather large gentleman who had been sneaking up behind him.

Artemis was glued to the monitors. This was the time when things traditionally went wrong for kidnappers — the third quarter of operations. Having been successful thus far, the abductors tended to relax, light up a few cigarettes, get chatty with their hostages. Next thing they knew, they were flat on their faces with a dozen guns pointed at the backs of their heads. Not Artemis Fowl. He didn't make mistakes.

No doubt the fairies were reviewing the tapes of their first negotiating session, searching for anything that would give them a way in. Well, it was there all right. All they had to do was look. Buried just deep enough to make it look accidental.

It was possible that Commander Root would try another ruse.

He was a wily one, no doubt about it. One who would not take kindly to being bested by a child. He would bear watching.

The mere thought of Root gave Artemis the shivers. He decided to check in again. He inspected the monitors.

Juliet was still in the kitchen, scrubbing at the sink. Washing the vegetables.

Captain Short was on her bunk. Quiet as the grave. No more bed banging. Perhaps he had been wrong about her. Perhaps there was no plan.

Butler stood at his post outside Holly's cell. Odd. He should have been on his rounds by now. Artemis grabbed a walkie-talkie.

'Butler?'

'Roger, base. Receiving.'

'Shouldn't you be on your rounds?'

There was a pause.

'I am, Artemis. Patrolling the main landing. Coming up on the safe room. I'm waving at you right now.'

Artemis glanced at the landing cameras. Deserted. From every angle. Definitely no waving manservant. He studied the monitors, counting under his breath.. There! Every ten seconds, a slight jump.

On every screen.

'A loop!' he cried, jumping from his chair. 'They're feeding us a loop!'

Over the speaker, he could hear Butler's pace quickening to a run.

'The safe room!'

Artemis's stomach dropped into queasy hell. Duped! He, Artemis Fowl, had been duped, even though he'd known it was coming.

Inconceivable. It was arrogance that had done it. His own blinding arrogance, and now the entire plan could collapse around his ears.

He switched the walkie-talkie to Juliet's band. It was a pity now that he'd taken the house's intercom off-line, but it didn't operate on a secure frequency.

'Juliet?'

'Receiving.'

'Where are you right now?'

'In the kitchen. Wrecking my nails on this grater.'

'Leave it, Juliet. Check on the prisoner.'

'But, Artemis, the carrot sticks will dry out!'

'Leave it, Juliet!' shouted Artemis. 'Drop everything and check on the prisoner!'

Juliet obediently dropped everything, including the walkie-talkie. She'd sulk for days now. Never mind. There was no time to worry about a teenage girl's bruised ego. He had more important matters to tend to.

Artemis depressed the master switch on the computerized surveillance system. His only chance of purging the loop was a complete reboot. After several agonizing moments of screen snow, the monitors jumped and settled. Things were not as they had seemed only seconds before.

There was a grotesque thing in the safe room. It had apparently discovered the secret compartment. Not only that but it had managed to open the whisper lock. Amazing. Butler had it covered though. He was sneaking up behind the creature, and any moment now the intruder would find itself nose down in the carpet.

Artemis switched his attention to Holly. The elf was back to bed banging. Slamming the frame down over and over again, as though she could…

It hit Artemis then, like a blast from a water cannon. If Holly had somehow smuggled an acorn in here, then one square centimetre of ground would be enough. If Juliet left that door open…

'Juliet!' he shouted into the walkie-talkie. 'Juliet! Don't go in there!'

But it was useless. The girl's walkie-talkie lay buzzing on the kitchen floor, and Artemis could only watch helplessly as Butler's sister strode towards the cell door, muttering about carrots.

'The safe room!' exclaimed Butler, quickening his pace.

His instinct was to go in all guns blazing, but training took over. Fairy hardware was most definitely superior to his own, and who knew how many barrels were aimed at the other side of that door right now. No, caution was most definitely the best part of valour in this particular situation.

He placed a palm against the wood, feeling for vibration.

Nothing. No machinery then. Butler curled his fingers around the knob, twisting gently. With his other hand, he drew a Sig Sauer automatic from his shoulder holster. No time to fetch the dart rifle, it would have to be shoot to kill.

The door swung open noiselessly, as Butler knew it would, having oiled every hinge in the house himself. Before him was…Well, to be honest, Butler wasn't quite sure what it was. If he didn't know better, that is at first glance, he could have sworn that the thing resembled nothing more than an enormous quivering…

And then the thing exploded, jettisoning an amazing amount of tunnel waste directly at the unfortunate manservant! It was like being battered with a hundred sledgehammers simultaneously. Butler was lifted bodily and flung against the wall.

And as he lay there, consciousness slipping away from him, he prayed that Master Artemis hadn't managed to capture the moment on video.

Holly was weakening. The bedframe was nearly twice her body weight and the ridges were tearing cruel welts in her palms. But she couldn't stop now. Not when she was so close.

She slammed the post into the concrete again. A cloud of grey dust spiralled around her legs. Any second now, Fowl would tumble to her plan and she'd get the hypodermic treatment again. But until then…

She gritted her teeth against the pain, heaving the bedframe to knee height. Then she saw it. A sliver of brown among the grey. Could it be true?

Pain forgotten, Captain Short dropped the bed, sinking quickly to her knees. There was indeed a small patch of earth poking through the cement. Holly fumbled the acorn from her boot, clasping it tightly in bloody fingers.

'I return you to the earth,' she whispered, worming her fist into the tiny space. 'And claim the gift that is my right.'

Nothing happened for a heartbeat. Perhaps two. Then Holly felt the magic rush up her arm like a jolt from an electrified troll fence.

The shock sent her spinning across the room. For a moment the world swirled in a disconcerting kaleidoscope of colour, but when it settled Holly was no longer the defeated elf she had been.

'Right, Master Fowl.' She grinned, watching the blue sparks of fairy magic seal her wounds. 'Let's see what I have to do to get your permission to leave this place.'

'Drop everything,' sulked Juliet. 'Drop everything and check the prisoner.' She flicked blonde tresses expertly over a shoulder. 'He must think I'm his maid or something.'

She hammered on the cell door with the flat of her hand.

'I'm coming in now, fairy girl, so if you're doing anything embarrassing, please stop.'

Juliet punched the combination into the keypad. 'And no, I don't have your vegetables, or your washed fruit. But it's not my fault, Artemis in-sis-ted I come right down…'

Juliet stopped talking, because there was nobody listening. She was preaching to an empty room. She waited for her brain to pass on an explanation. Nothing came. Eventually the notion to take another look filtered down.

She took a tentative step into the concrete cube. Nothing. Only a slight shimmering in the shadows. Like a mist. It was probably these stupid glasses. How were you supposed to see anything wearing mirrored sunglasses underground? And they were so nineties, they weren't even retro yet.