Free Artemis Fowl and the Atlantis Complex by Eoin Colfer

would be Now join hands and sing sea shanties. No, he was certain that nothing benign would issue from that screen.
    “Now kill the bear and the princess,” said the layered voice, a few of the layers taking a moment to catch up, lending a sibilant sssss to princess .
    Kill the bear and the princess. Charming.
    Butler noticed a glint of dark intent in his sister’s eyes as she realized that he was the bear. What would she do, he wondered, when she tumbled to the fact that she was the princess?
    It doesn’t matter, he realized. We could both be dead long before that happens.
    “Kill the bear and the princess,” droned Juliet in perfect unison with the mesmerized crowd.
    “And take your time about it,” continued the magical voice, now infused with a merry note. “Drag it out a little. As you humans say: no pain no gain.”
    A comedian, thought Butler. It’s not Opal Koboi, then .
    “Gotta kill you, brother,” said Juliet. “I’m sorry. Truly.”
    Not likely, thought Butler. On a good day, if he was drugged and blindfolded, maybe Juliet could have inflicted a little damage, but in his experience the mesmer made people slow and stupid. A large part of their brains were switched off, and the parts left awake were not going to be winning any Nobel prizes.
    Juliet tried a spinning kick but ended up twirling off balance and into Butler’s arms. Annoyingly, her jade ring spun around and clattered him on the ear. Even mesmerized , my sister is irritating.
    Butler hefted Juliet easily, then tensed his muscles for flight.
    “Kill you,” muttered his sister. “Sorry. Gotta.” Then: “Fairies? You kidding me?”
    Was she remembering the Fowl Manor siege? Butler wondered. Had the mesmer accidentally triggered recall?
    He could investigate later, if there were a later for them. Butler had considerable faith in his own ability, but he doubted that he could take on a theater full of zombies, even if they weren’t fleet of foot.
    “Go to work, my human lackeys,” said the voice that went along with the red eyes. “Dig deep into the darkest recesses of your brains, such as they are. Leave no evidence for the authorities.”
    Leave no evidence? What are they supposed to do with the evidence?
    That question really didn’t bear thinking about.
    Bear? Ha-ha-ha, thought Butler, and then: Jokes? I have time for jokes? Is it possible that I am frazzled? Pull it together, man. You’ve been through worse .
    Although, looking at the dozens of stiff-limbed instapsychos lumbering down from the upper levels, Butler could not for the life of him remember when.
    A pudgy forty-something man sporting an Undertaker T-shirt and a beer hat pointed at Butler from the aisle.
    “Beaaaar!” he yowled. “Beaaaaar and princess!”
    Butler borrowed a word from the fairy lexicon.
    “D’Arvit,” he said.

CHAPTER 3
ORION RISING
    Vatnajökull, Iceland; Now
    Artemis was jumping between psychoses.
    “Not real!” he shouted at the descending ship. “You are nothing but a delusion, my friend.”
    And from there he hopped straight over into paranoia. “You planned this,” he shouted at Holly. “Who were your partners? Foaly without doubt. Butler? Did you turn my faithful bodyguard against me? Did you burgle his mind and plant your own truths in there?”
    From the rooftop, the directional mike in Holly’s helmet picked up no more than every second word, but it was enough to tell her that Artemis was not the clinical logistician he used to be.
    If the old Artemis could see the new Artemis, the old Artemis would die of embarrassment.
    Like Butler, Holly was having a hard time controlling her rebellious sense of humor in this dire hour.
    “Get down!” she called. “The ship is real!”
    “That’s what you want me to think. That ship is nothing more than a cog in your conspiracy. . . .” Artemis paused. If the ship was a cog in the conspiracy, and the conspiracy was real, then the ship must be real. “Five!” he blurted suddenly, having