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Artemis nodded, strapping the mirrored sunglasses across his brow. ... Holly was dumbfounded. There was a human before her, casually spouting sacred secrets. This was disastrous. Catastrophic. It could mean the end of generations of peace. If the humans were aware of a fairy subculture, it was only a matter of time before the two species went to war. She must do something, and there was only one weapon left in her arsenal. The mesmer is the lowest form of magic and requires only a trickle of power. There are even certain humans with a bent for the talent. It is within the ability of even the most drained fairy to put a complete mind kibosh on any human alive. Holly summoned the final dribble of magic from the base of her skull. “Human,” she intoned, her voice suddenly resonating with bass tones. “Your will is mine.” Artemis smiled, safe behind his mirrored lenses. “I doubt it,” he said, and nodded curtly. - Artemis Fowl, Chapter 4
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