Artemis Fowl and the Atlantis Complex

in their trademark black costumes disguised by trench coats, who had doubtless shown up to avenge their master’s recent defeat at the hands and feet of the Jade Princess at QuadroSlam in Mexico City. Surprise guests often showed up unadvertised at the slams, but the entire Ninja Squad was an unexpected bonus.

The ninjas were a writhing mass of pumping limbs, each member desperate to land a blow on the Jade Princess, and there was nothing the slight girl could do but lie there and absorb it.

Butler entered the ring quietly. The element of surprise was often the difference between victory and defeat in against-the-odds situations, though if Butler were honest with himself he would admit that secretly he usually felt that the odds were in his favor, even in this case, where he was outnumbered twelve to one. Twelve to two if Juliet were still conscious, which was six to one, which was virtually even-stevens. A moment earlier Butler had felt a little self-conscious in the borrowed costume of fake bearskin leotard and mask, but now all embarrassment was forgotten as he clicked his brain into that cold space he called combat mode.

These people are hurting my sister, he thought as a hot trickle of anger cracked his icy shell of professionalism.

Time to go to work.

With a growl that was totally in keeping with his Crazy Bear costume, Butler rolled into the ring under the bottom rope, stepped briskly across the canvas, and began laying into the ninjas with blatant economy of movement. There was no threatening monologue, not even a simple foot stamp to herald his arrival, which was hardly courteous. He simply dismantled the ninjas as though they were a Jenga stack.

There followed thirty seconds of flailing limbs and high-pitched screaming that would have done hysterical teenagers at a boy-band concert proud, and then, finally, Juliet was uncovered.

Butler saw that his sister was intact, and smiled behind the mask.

“Hello there. I made it.”

And in response to her life being saved, Juliet jammed four rigid fingers into his solar plexus, driving the air from his body.

“Aarrrk,” he grunted; then, “Whuueeeech.” Which was supposed to be What are you doing?

A couple of the ninjas had recovered and tried a few of their stylized moves on their attacker, only to be rewarded with casual openhanded slaps.

“Watch it,” snapped Butler, drawing breath once more and shooting the ninjas the evil eye. “I need a minute of family time.”

Something flickered in the corner of Butler’s vision, moving with blurred, jittery speed. His left hand automatically shot out to grab the jade ring that was braided into his sister’s blond ponytail.

“Wow,” said Juliet. “No one’s ever done that before.”

“Really?” said Butler, dropping the jade ring. “No one?”

Juliet’s eyes widened behind her mask. “No one except. . Brother, is that you?”

Before Butler could reply, Juliet sidestepped and pole-axed with her forearm a ninja who may have been sneaking up on them, or may in fact have been trying to escape from what had become the ring of real pain as opposed to the ring of convincingly faked agony.

“Didn’t you guys hear this man? We need family time!” The ninjas shrank back against the rope, whimpering.

Even Samsonetta seemed a little concerned.

“Brother, I’m in the middle of a grudge match. What are you doing here?” asked Juliet.

It might have taken many people a few more minutes before they realized something was amiss, but not Butler. Years of protecting Artemis Fowl had taught him to catch the penny before it dropped.

“Obviously you didn’t send for me. We need to leave so I can figure things out.”

Juliet’s bottom lip hung sulkily, transporting Butler ten years into the past, when he’d forbidden her to shave her head.

“I can’t just go. I’ve got fans expecting me to do cartwheels and give you the signature move.”

It was true. The Jade Princess’s camp was bouncing on their benches, baying for Crazy Bear’s blood.

“If I just leave, there could be a riot.”

Butler glanced up at the giant screen suspended from the ceiling and saw a close-up of his own head looking up at the screen, which was enough to give anyone a headache.

A voice boomed from four old-fashioned conical speakers wired to the corners of the overhead screen.

“Who is this guy, folks? Is it Crazy Bear come to take down his old enemy, the Jade Princess?”

Juliet stuck out her chin. “Max. Always looking for the angle.”

“Juliet, we don’t have time for this.”

“Whoever it is,” continued Max, “we’re not just going to let him walk out of here with our princess, are we, amigos?”

Judging by the loud and sustained reaction, the paying customers did not take to the idea of Crazy Bear simply walking out with the princess. The language was florid, and Butler could have sworn that the walls were shaking slightly.

Butler took three quick steps to the side of the ring and wagged his finger at a little man holding a microphone.

He was surprised when the little man jumped up on the table, stamped on his own hat, then shouted into the mike.

“You’re threatening me, Crazy Bear? After all I’ve done for you? When those forest rangers found you living with the grizzlies, who took you in? Max Schetlin, that’s who. And this is how you repay me?”

Butler tuned out the rant. “Okay, Juliet. We need to get out of here now. We do not have time for this.

Someone wanted me out of the way. Possibly someone who has a grudge against Artemis.”

“You need to be an awful lot more specific than that, brother. Artemis has more enemies than you, and you have quite a few at the moment.”

It was true. The crowd was turning ugly-a lot of it was fake ugly, but Butler’s keen eye spotted scores of wrestling fans in the front rows who looked ready to storm the ring.

I need to make a statement, he thought. Show these people who’s boss.

“Outside the ring, Jules. Right now.”

Juliet did what she was told without complaint. Butler had that look on his face. The last time she had seen that look, her brother had punched his way through the hull of a Somali pirate’s stolen yacht, sinking the vessel in the Gulf of Aden.

“Don’t hurt Samsonetta,” she ordered. “We’re friends.”

Butler shook his head in disapproval. “Friends? I knew you two were faking.”

Samsonetta and the ninjas were busy throwing shapes in the far corner of the ring. They stamped, punched, and threatened without actually attacking.

When Juliet was safely outside the ropes, Butler turned to his own corner and threw his shoulder into the pad covering the post. The impact rattled the post in its housing.

“Crazy Bear really is crazy,” crowed Max. “He’s beating up the ring. Are you going to stand for that, ninjas? This man is defiling the very symbol of our sporting heritage.”

Apparently the Ninja Squad was prepared to accept a little defiling of their symbol if it meant not being attacked by the man mountain who had taken their pyramid apart with no more effort than a child knocking down a house of cards.

Butler hit the post again, this time smashing it right out of its socket. He hefted the metal pole, stepped underneath the ropes, and began to twist the ring in on itself.

This move was so unprecedented that it was several seconds before anyone could appreciate what they were seeing. In years to come the maneuver would become known as the wringer and would elevate the real Crazy Bear, who was passed out drunk in the back alley, to the status of luchador superstar.

Even Max Schetlin’s tirade dried up as his brain tried to process what was actually going on.

Butler took advantage of the stunned stillness to quickly spin the corner post half a dozen times, popping another two supports from their housings.

This is not as difficult as it looks, mused Butler, catching sight of himself on the giant screen. This entire ring