[Instrumental version of "Making Time" by The Creation]
it is a commonly held misconception that with the dawning of the 21st century and a
burgeoning new age of science, that magic has been chased out of our lives,
excised with surgical precision from our world as our awareness of the universe
expands. This is false. There are plenty of minor miracles lurking in the shadows.
For example, there exists in a sleepy house in Bristol an older woman who does
the most exquisite embroidery, many of which has the funny quality of appearing
to predict with great accuracy the results of many minor league football
matches. The other pieces are of various stray cats in the neighborhood. She is quite
good. This is not a story about minor miracles, though. It is a story about a
series of improbabilities, inconceivable shenanigans, and events that stretch the
limits of belief. It is a story about magic, at least, in part. This is Domovoi
Butler. He works for Artemis Fowl. The second. Butler hasn't been paid in months —
currently, he has his hands full with trying to raise his boss after a
dubiously legal business deal resulted in the boy's father being lost at sea,
presumed dead by everyone with a healthy dose of common sense.
Artemis Fowl the second is 12. He fully believes that his father is alive,
partly because he doesn't want to believe he is functionally an orphan, and
partly because he's not used to the things he wants to believe in turning
out not to be true. The second reason is influenced by the fact he is a genius,
and the first is influenced by the fact he is, as previously stated, 12 years of
age. In the past few weeks, they've traveled to Egypt, Vietnam, and various
parts of Germany. Tonight they will make their way to an old oak tree by a river
bend just outside of South Dublin. It will be the culmination of all of
Artemis's research. Remember the earlier remarks about minor miracles? Artemis Fowl
the second's father is presumed dead. His mother is in the middle of an extended
psychic break following the sinking of the Fowl Star. He doesn't need a minor
miracle.
He needs a rather big one.