Finn Finnegan (15 page)

Reaching the edge of the park, he slowed down and pushed the hood back. Panting, he listened intently as he tried to slow his breathing. A faint shout jerked his head around. He squinted as he peered through the storm at the far side of the park.

A beam of light danced about, illuminating the inside of the open-air pavilion. On top of one of the picnic tables, a familiar figure held a moonstone high in one hand as he swung a blade at the shapes rampaging below

“Gideon,” Finn whispered. He watched in horror as one of the Amandán leaped up on the table behind the Knight. Before he could shout a warning, his master twisted around and buried his blade in its chest. The goblin disappeared in a silent explosion of gray powder.

Finn sprinted across the park.
Two left
, he thought as he ran, water spraying out from under his feet.
We can handle two. I just got to get up there with him
. The fear of arriving too late nipped at his heels.

When he reached the edge of the pavilion, the light vanished. Finn blinked as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Chest heaving, he pressed himself against one of the thick concrete posts holding up the roof and wiped the rain from his face, then slipped a knife out of his belt.
I've got to time this just right. Make a run for the table when those monsters aren't looking
. He waited, bouncing on his toes as he studied the distance between himself and the picnic bench.

The Knight smiled grimly while the two goblins circled around below him. “A wee leery of attacking me straight on, eh?” He wiped the sweat and ash from his eyes with the back of a hand. “Since I took out two of yer cronies?” He tightened his grip on the knives. The rain hammered on the metal roof, muffling the creatures' growls and insults.

From the corner of his eye, he caught a dark shape darting out from behind a nearby pillar. He cursed as something landed behind him with a thud, the table rocking underfoot. He staggered, then spun around and slashed at the new threat. With a cry, the figure dropped to its knees.

“Gideon—it's me!” Finn crouched low, a knife in one hand. He peeked up at the Knight. “Um…hi.”

“Finn! What the bleedin ‘ell are ye doing here?” he roared, then lunged over the apprentice's head to stab at the goblin that had started creeping up on the bench behind the boy. The creature jerked back to avoid the blade and stumbled, falling to the concrete pad with a yelp.

To Gideon's astonishment, Finn crawled between his legs and scrambled to the far end of the table. Raising his knife, he plunged it into the other Amandán's hand as it reached for the Knight's ankle, and pinned it to the wooden surface. The creature shrieked. It wrenched its limb to and fro, trying to free itself.

“I'm helping you,” Finn shouted back. He scooted over until his shoulder pressed against Gideon's knee, cradling his injured wrist.

“Ye gods, stand up! I'm going to trip over ye, and ye're no bleedin' good down there!”

As Finn lurched to his feet, Gideon suddenly grabbed the top of the boy's head and shoved him back down again. With a flick of his wrist, the Knight sent a knife into the chest of the goblin attempting to free its companion. A moment later, he slammed the second blade into the pinned creature. Both Amandán exploded, sending a double portion of ash everywhere.

Reaching over, Finn pried his weapon loose from the table with a grunt. He stood up, pulled the second knife from his belt, and passed it to the Knight. Both armed, they braced for another attack.

Quiet fell over the area, broken only by the pinging of rain on the metal roof.

After a few minutes, Gideon dug the moonstone back out of his pocket and raised it high, scanning the bushes and trees around them. A final rumble sounded from the sky as the storm began to diminish.

“All clear.” Tucking the stone away, Gideon turned around, his face hard. “What, in the name of the Goddess Danu, am I to do with ye?”

Finn shook his dripping hair out of his eyes and squared his shoulders. “Look, I know you're mad at me.
Again
. But I don't care. Because there's no way I am going to let you hunt by yourself.” He locked eyes with Gideon and waited.

The Knight sighed and rubbed his knuckles along his jaw as he studied the young face.
Ye gods, the lad reminds me so much of myself at this age. Stubborn, temperamental, and already befriending a mortal. How can I punish him for acting the same way I did?
He smiled to himself.
If only my old master could see this now
.

“Perhaps ye were right to follow me, boyo.” Gideon chuckled when Finn's mouth sagged open. “I probably shouldn't have hunted alone.” He reached out to tap the boy's tore with the handle of his knife. “Not when there's another warrior in our home.” He stepped off the table and onto the bench, then to the ground. Finn followed with a hop and a grin.

“So, does this mean I'm not grounded anymore?” He hurried to collect the Knight's blades, careful to wipe them clean on his soaked jeans.

“I suppose not. Maybe I should just beat ye black and blue instead. With a bleedin' hard stick.” He took the weapons, keeping one in each hand.

“Yeah, right,” Finn scoffed.

They left the pavilion to go home. The drizzle washed their faces and clothes, leaving streaks of damp ash. Finn lengthened his stride as he tried to match the Knight's. For a few minutes, they squelched along in silence.

“Um…Gideon?”

“Yes?”

“I'm sorry I lied. About Rafe and my wrist and all that.” He held up his arm, the elastic bandage filthy with goblin remains and mud.

Gideon nodded. “Apology accepted. And we best rewrap that wrist again when we get home. We'll talk in the morning about the Steel children. Perhaps we can come to some agreement, ye and me.” He glanced down at Finn. “Ye understand, do ye now, that being friends with you might be dangerous to
them?
The Amandán are quite happy to hunt down any mortal they perceive as our ally.”

“Yes, sir, I get it. And I like Rafe. And Savannah. But I don't want them to get hurt.” He looked around in the darkness, then overhead, watching the stars when they appeared between shreds of clouds. “Things are going to get worse, aren't they? For us De Danaan?”

The Knight hooked an arm around the boy's shoulders. “Aye, lad. Much worse. So, promise me something.” He stopped and pulled Finn to a halt, one hand still on his shoulder.

“What?”

“Ye're never to put yerself in danger to protect me, such as ye did this evening. Now, do I have yer word?”

Finn glanced away. He hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “I can't make that promise, Gideon. I'm sorry.”

Nor would I have, at his age
. The Knight shrugged. “I dinna think ye would, but I had to try.” He turned again for home, the boy by his side.

“How did you know I wouldn't?”

“Because for good or for bad, me old master's fondest desire has come true.”

“Which is, what?”

“That the Fates send me an apprentice exactly like meself.”

The Journal of Gideon Lir: June 20

The Celts have always believed that life is a Circle. An unending, repeating pattern that twists and turns and brings us back to the beginning.

And if that is so, then it must stand to reason that Finnegan MacCullen was destined to be my apprentice. And I his master.

But now we are also friends. A great gift, tobe sure.

Perhaps the greatest gift in this round world.

Fidgeting beside Gideon as his master spoke with the bank teller, Finn eyed the pen attached to a chain on the counter. Picking it up, he swung it back and forth a few times. After a few swings, he began twirling it around, faster and faster.
I wonder if I could get it to hum
. He spun it harder, picking up speed. The chain made a rhythmic clinking.

He yelped when a work boot kicked him in the ankle. “Ow.” Glaring over at his master, he let the chain wrap itself around his hand before putting the pen back down. “That hurt.”

“Aye, I'm sure it did.” Gideon gave a polite nod to the teller as she handed him a deposit slip and some money. Stepping away from the counter, he checked the paper, then folded it in half and tucked it in his pocket. He kept a couple of bills in one hand. “Thank the gods ‘tis the first of the month. June was just a bit too tight, financially.”

“No kidding.” Finn followed his master across the lobby and through the heavy glass doors. Colorado's combination of high, thin air and summer sun was already cooking High Springs' downtown.

“But, I've good news, boyo.”

“Computer?”

“Still no.” Before Finn could question him further, a cultured voice spoke behind them.

“Why, good morning, Gideon Lir.”

They turned around. A tall, white-haired man, accompanied by an older teenage boy, was walking toward them. The boy's eyes, a rich brown that matched his hair, were filled with curiosity as he gazed at Finn.

“And to ye, Basil,” Gideon said in way of a greeting. As he chatted with the other man, the boy sauntered over to Finn.

“How's it going?”

“Okay,” Finn replied.

“I'm Griffin, Basil's apprentice,” he said. Tilting his head to one side, he studied Finn. “You're a Tuatha De Danaan, aren't you?”

“H-how did you know?”
He even pronounced it right
, thought Finn.

“Oh, Basil told me about your people once. You two hunt monsters, or something?”

“Uh, yeah. A kind of goblin,” Finn said vaguely. “Did…did you say you were an
apprentice?'

“Yup. Basil's my Mentor. What you might call a master.”

For a long minute, Finn stared at Griffin, who waited with a trace of amusement. He licked his lips in confusion. “Are you guys…you know…”

“Human?” The other teen supplied for him. He shook his head. “Actually, we're angels.”

Finn blinked. “Angels.”

“That's right.” Griffin grinned, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “The very top of the supernatural hierarchy, you might say. Basil and I are Terrae Angeli—guardian angels who control the four elements. My specialties are Earth and Fire.” He held up a hand and snapped his fingers. With a whoosh, flames ignited and began dancing along their tips. “Especially Fire.”

“Whoa!” Finn took a step back. “How did you—”

At that moment, Basil summoned Griffin. Clenching his hand into a fist, he extinguished the flames and hurried away.

Finn joined his master. They watched as the other two walked into the bank. Pausing in the doorway to let Basil enter first, Griffin looked back over his shoulder. He gave a nod and disappeared inside.

“Are they really…?” Finn flapped his arms up and down.

“Aye, that they are,” Gideon said. “I usually find Terrae Angeli a bit pretentious, but Basil is a right decent bloke. Down to earth, ye might say.”

“I didn't think angels really existed. And lived here, in High Springs.”

“Oh, ye'd be surprised who else shares the city with us,” Gideon said. He strode along the sidewalk toward their truck, Finn on his heels.

“So, what's the good news you were going to tell me?”

“We have adequate funds to purchase food, clothing, gas, and pay all our bills. And even a wee bit left over. Ye may have these.” Gideon handed him two ten-dollar bills.

“What's this for?”

“
Thank ye, Gideon
” said Gideon. He glanced over, one eyebrow raised, and waited.

Finn stared back. “What?” He shoved the money into his pocket, then ducked as Gideon aimed a swipe at his head. “Oh. Yeah. Uh, thanks.”

The Knight sighed. “I believe, oh, clueless apprentice, that it is customary for human teenagers to have some spending money.”

“What do you mean,
human
teenagers?”

“Ye'll need to act the part if ye're going to have a mortal as a friend.” Reaching their vehicle, he unlocked the door and climbed inside. Finn joined him in the cab.