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Myles looked around tentatively as he poked his head into Artemis's study.
The soft mechanical whirr of a security camera clicked and buzzed as it swiveled its head in his direction. Myles jerked himself back behind the frame of the door, casting a glance to his left at Beckett, who was clutching the wooden stool with white knuckles.

"Uh, M-Myles?" Beckett stuttered, almost banging the stool against the plaster wall. "I don't think we should be doing this...Arty might get mad---"

Myles cut his brother off with a harsh, 'Shh!', holding a finger to his lips. Beckett clamped his jaw shut immediately, but still tried to protest. Myles rolled his eyes as his twin's eyes bugged, and his arms flailed, trying to say something along the lines of, 'We shouldn't do this! I want my sweets!'

Myles let out a haggard sigh far beyond his years. "I am aware that you have a sweet tooth," He snapped quietly at Beckett, folding small, pudgy arms across his chest. "But I don't want Arty mad at us either. I'm just going to go in and take a peek at his papers, while you take watch." Myles half-whispered, eyes darting to the colossal staircase at the far end of the manor hall.

"But what if---" Beckett's protest was smothered by Myles's hand, which the boy promptly clamped over his twin's mouth.

"Beckett," Myles chastised, trying to sound as nice as he could. His brother was 5, for goodness's sake. "I'm not going to get us grounded, so please stop with the 'but's'. I promise." He gently patted Beckett's cheek, trying to cheer his brother up. "I promise, now buck up, Beck."

Beckett nodded, still gripping the stool in one hand. "Alright, Myles," He said quietly, still unable to push down the uncomfortable feeling that hurt his chest. "I trust you."

Myles let a small smirk quirk his lips up, in a slightly chilling imitation of his older brother, Artemis Fowl the Second. But on the inside, he felt a small web of guilt wind and twist its way in his chest, squeezing his heart and forcing the truth to lodge itself in his throat. He took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. Myles didn't have the heart to tell his brother that they would probably be in trouble. Might as well say, 'Oh hey Beckett, Let's go raid Artemis's study because I just really want his blueprints for that mini car.' But the guilt was already too heavy.

"Do you have the water gun?" Myles hissed after he had poked his head to the study for the tenth time. "And the rest of the arsenal?"

Beckett nodded eagerly, pointing at the small, colorful backpack that held two full water gun pistons and several other parlor tricks. The boy giggled softly, both nervous and excited, quickly stopping when Myles shot him a poisonous look. Oops.