The Collaboration Files

Sleeplessness

I didn't sleep.

You know, it isn't hard to pretend you're doing something you're not.

Like pretending you're telling the truth to someone.

After going on a Internet spree, Liz looked over at me, pacing the floorboards. I had found a nicely concealed trapdoor (It echoed a bit), and noticed the window opened. The air ducts were too small for a human being to crawl through, and (As you know) the door was locked. Anywho, Liz looked over at me, and said,

"Don't try to escape."

I chuckled.

I wasn't going to escape. I just wanted to get out of this claustriphobic area. But I might escape, should the chance crop up. But what good would that do? Artemis would just get me again. Always running. Where to?

We were going to bed- well, Jene and Liz were going to fall asleep, and I was out to explore.

The second Liz and Jene were out for the count (Asleep, not dead!) I slipped from under the covers of my bed and made my way blindly to the wardrobe, where I dressed in something random. It was silky and light, and I couldn't see it. No matter, as I was heading to the window. The moonlight streamed through the glass, and I noticed what I had on.

A suit.

Damn! I look like Artemis! Maybe this could work to my benefit... I took off my glasses and placed them on the bedside table. Myopia was not getting in the way of my vision at the moment, and I didn't think I needed to see far. Grinning, I opened the window and slid out into the night.

A soft breeze sidled past my ear, ruffling my hair. The night was warm, but would only be so for a few more days. Inching along the windowsill, I came to an small ledge of bricks. What an odd design flaw for a house that was supposed to be impenetrable.

DOWNSTAIRS: NOW

Artemis was not a fool. He had been watching the girls since the start, stratigically placing video cameras all about the manor so there were no blind spots. The only major blind spot was in the girls room, as Holly had persisted it would be a little awkward if you spied on girls while they were changing or something like that. So, agreeing with a bit of embarrassment, Artemis did not station cameras in that room. Waiting, he watched like a hawk for someone to come from a different entrance. The trapdoor was a dead end, yet even so he had removed the muffler from it's top in case someone stumbled across it. Artemis had set up the bricks on the wall just so it would look natural, yet like a pathway to other rooms for the fortunate girl who stumbled across it. Artemis had planned for everything.

Except Birch.

Birch seemed unobservant. Impacient. A bit crazed. And whatever chance she got, when no one was being hurt or threatened, she slept. The fourteen-year-old genius knew there was a probability of Birch exploring, but he expected Jenevieve, who seemed more adventurous, or Stella, who acted on an impulse. But Birch? He watched her look around and dart across the ledge, launching herself off the wall and flipping into his parents' room. Thank (Insert any god/godess here) that they were in London, on account his father had gotten an offer on a specially-made real-looking prosthetic leg. It wasn't cheap, but it was pretty well made. And his brothers Miles and Beckett were with their parents as well. Thank the god(s)/godess(s). He did not want to explain bringing all these people into the house. Birch, Stella, Jenevieve, Den, Holly... goodness. His mother might accuse him of being a boyfriend to one of the girls. Artemis shuddered at the thought and watched Birch flatten agaist the wall of the hallway, heading toward Den's room.

Artemis didn't trust the french boy. He had a suspicious air about him, and seemed to be lying about who he was. It was unsettling, but the great Fowl heir never got unsettled. He had set up a key code on Den's door, along with a lock that would only respond to a certain key. A dwarf hair key.

Butler, so quiet for such a large man, slipped into the room. Artemis turned from all the screens to Butler, rubbing his eyes. Secretly, Butler thought his cohert looked like young fourteen-year-old boy who had just come home from a long funeral- Tired, solemn, and wearing a suit.

"It's Birch," The boy stood and poured himself some water from a pitcher.

"Birch?" Butler chuckled. "I thought you said Stella was the most likely to explore."

"There was still a slight chance one of the others would go out."

"Hm." Holly shimmered into a visible spectrum with a half-laugh, half-sigh. "The little french boy is sleeping. I made sure he wasn't a simulation. He seems really tired."

Birch was steadily moving toward the guest rooms, her suit now adorned with a bowtie. Whatever was in her sight, it was close. She broke into a run. Suddenly, Butler knew where she was going. And she was almost there...

Butler ran toward the door, but he didn't get there in time. Birch reached her destination. And she flung the door open.

On screen and in real life, in front of them.

Birch wasn't supposed to see this.

DOWNSTAIRS: NOW

What was behind door number one? I flung it open, and had a quick look inside before Butler blocked my view.

"You're not supposed to be here," He growled.

I bit my tounge, and ducked around the Eurasian man.

That's when Artemis's phone rang.

It was Abigale Rush.