//------------------------------//
// Epilogue:  The Boy Who Would Find Magic 
// Story: Artemis Fowl:  The Equine Dominion 
// by _No_One_Remains_ 
//------------------------------//

Artemis sat on a hard metal stool in front of a particularly cluttered desk in the small basement room he had renovated into a research lab.  The clock on the wall near the door struck midnight and a wave of fatigue washed over him.  His unfocused eyes stared down at the dusty tome in front of him, several Nordic symbols scratched  across the cover.  The picture of a small horse in particular caught his attention.

As he reached up to crack into the secrets of the relic, a familiar, deep voice tore through the silence.  “It would be for the best if you postpone your research until tomorrow.  You won’t get much done without some rest.”  Butler approached his charge, offering a hand to help from the admittedly taller-than-Artemis seat.  “You can’t afford to make a mistake in translation, can you?”

“No, of course not.”  Artemis slid from the stool, dismissing his bodyguard’s hand and stretching tiredly.  A thought came to him as he started toward the door, “You said you had a contact in Ho Chi Minh City, correct?”

Puzzled by the sudden change of heart, the brute replied hesitantly, “That’s correct, sir.  He responded to your online advertisement; he’s well-known in certain circles.”  Picking up his young master’s coat from a small rack by the door, Butler followed the boy out of the laboratory.

Taking the time to yawn, Artemis pursued his train of thought.  “What exactly did he tell you that might relate to my research?”

“More and more citizens have been telling stories of a frail sorceress that cures illness and injury in exchange for rice wine.  He’s seen her with his own eyes, or so he says.”

“And you believe him?”

“I’ve no reason not to, sir.”

“Good.  We can’t have a repeat of Cairo.”  The boy thought back to the wasted hours spent waiting for some Egyptian man to attempt to pass off a small child as a magical dwarf.  “Inform Mister…”

“Nguyen,” Butler reminded his charge of the contact’s name.

“Inform Mister Nguyen that we’ll be arriving in the near future.  All proper arrangements can be made in the morning.”  With that, the boy picked up his pace and headed toward his room, the sudden fatigue consuming his thoughts.  He tried to think about what could have made him so tired, only to find nothing in his recent memories.

Butler turned on his heels back toward the lab, deciding it best to place his charge’s book in a safe place.  For the first time in the last few months, from what he could remember, the manor was quiet.  It was eerie, unexpected ever since Angeline Fowl’s mental degradation.

It was so quiet, Butler thought he was hearing voices just to make up for the silence.

As he picked the tome up carefully, he found himself possessed to say just one simple word.

“Arrivederci?” he questioned, flipping the light switch as he closed the door.