Finn Finnegan (23 page)

“Up, boyo.”

Finn jerked awake as a hand nudged his shoulder. Rolling over, he stared at the silhouette of his master looming over him in the dark. The hoarse screeching of crows echoed off the walls from the open bedroom window. He sat up, his stomach doing cartwheels.

“Get dressed,” Gideon ordered. “Quick, now.” Without another word, he bolted from the room.

Finn flung his clothes on, his fingers clumsy as he scrambled to tie his shoes. He strapped on the ankle sheath, then raced down the stairs. Swinging around the post, he sprinted into the living room. A single pool of light spilled from the lamp on Gideon's desk.

“Here.” The Knight tossed him a knife. He waited until Finn caught it, then tossed him a second one. “One on yer leg and one in yer belt.”

“Is it an attack?” He bent over to slide the blade into place. “Like the other night?”

Gideon selected a dagger. He ran a thumb along its edge, then replaced it and chose a knife instead. “I'm afraid it's worse. Come.” He led the way to the darkened kitchen. “Look.” He pointed out the window over the sink.

Finn stared across the back yard. Several massive dark shapes bobbed up and down on the far side of the wall. Amandán. “What are they doing?”

“Piling pine boughs along the top.”

“Why?”

“Remember what I told ye—contact with bronze burns them. They'll be able to scale the wall safely once they have a thick enough layer to protect them. Now, Mac Roth is already on his way, but I'll need to hold them off until he arrives. Ye're the reserve in case something goes awry.”

“We.”

“Sorry, what?”

“
We'll
need to hold them off,” Finn said. “No way are you going out there by yourself. I'm going with you, not hanging out in the kitchen.”

Gideon lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, ye are, are ye?”

“Yes, sir.” To Finn's astonishment, his master gave a nod.

“Why, then the poor beasties haven't a chance.” Gideon glanced sideways, eyes aglow with the joy of battle. “Here's what we'll do.”

The back door crashed open as two figures leaped out, chanting in unison. Side by side, they raced across the lawn, weapons gleaming in the light of Gideon's moonstone.

As the first Amandán clambered on top of the wall, a knife impaled the beast between the eyes. Its screech split the night.

“And MacCullen is on the scoreboard first,” Finn crowed, snatching the weapon from the pile of ash. He grinned up at his master. “Did you see that strike? Now, that was skill. Bam—I nailed it right in the head.”

‘“Twas the luck of the Irish, nothing more,” Gideon retorted. At that moment, a second goblin jumped up on the wall. Gideon slashed at its ankles and sent it tumbling toward him. Jumping to one side, he speared it in midair. The Amandán exploded. “Now
that was
skill.” He pointed at the mound of gray powder with the toe of a boot. His head jerked around when Finn shouted.

“Gideon! Watch out!” Dropping a shoulder, Finn plowed into his master. He sent him staggering to one side just as a third Amandán lunged over the wall. Its fingers missed the Knight's face by less than an inch.

With a grunt, Finn stabbed upward; the cloud of ash caught him in the face. “Oh, man, right in the eyes.” He wiped his face, smearing the powder even more.

Gideon reached up with a free hand and started pulling the branches toward him. Finn joined him. The tangy scent from the fresh evergreens mingled with the reek of goblin residue.

“It kind of smells like pine cleaner, mixed with a used cat litter box,” Finn noted as he cleared off the wall. “Or, maybe more like turpentine poured over a baby's diaper after the baby—” He winced when a pine bough abruptly slapped him on the head, silencing his observations.

“Sorry,” Gideon said, without a trace of remorse. “The bleedin' thing slipped from me hand.” He tossed the last branch into the pile littering the foot of the wall. “There, that should slow them down. They'll have to fetch more from the woods.”

Weapons at the ready, master and apprentice marched back and forth beside the wall. Both smiled grimly at the frustrated snarls coming from the ravine. Vegetation snapped and crunched as heavy bodies moved away through the underbrush. Stillness followed.

“‘Tis peculiar,” Gideon murmured, after a few minutes. He twirled the blade in his hand as he scanned the woods.

“What's peculiar?”

“They have now attacked
our
home. Twice.”

“Because they think you have the Spear?”

“Perhaps.” Gideon shrugged. “We'll find out tomorrow, eh?” He brightened at the distant rumble of Mac Roth's Jeep. “Ah, the cavalry approaches.”

“
Heavy
cavalry,” Finn muttered under his breath.

As they listened, Mac Roth pulled up with a crunch of gravel, killing the engine as he coasted into the driveway. They could hear thunderous footsteps running along the side of the house, followed by the sight of the enormous Knight rounding the corner. He held a knife in one hand and a hatchet in the other. He slowed as he spotted them lingering by the back wall.

“I hope ye left some for me.” Mac Roth sauntered toward them.

“‘Tis not me fault ye took yer sweet time getting here. Finn and I finished off three of them out of sheer boredom.”

“Ye were always a stingy one, Lir.” Mac Roth winked at Finn, leaned over the wall, and listened for a moment. “Well, maybe I'll have the luck and they'll return. I'd hate to have shown up here just for nothing.”

Turning to Finn, Mac Roth laid his hand on the boy's shoulder. “And I owe ye an apology. I've not had time to speak with ye properly since Asher's funeral.” Finn stiffened at the mention of the dead apprentice; Mac Roth squeezed gently. “‘Tis all right, boyo. We can and should speak of the fallen. It helps heal the grief.” He smiled and let go. “Thank ye for yer gift to him.”

Finn nodded. “He deserved it.”

Mac Roth sighed. “Aye, that he did, lad; that he did.” Casting aside his sorrow, the Knight stepped closer to the wall and straightened to his full height. He threw back his head. “Beware, ye beasties,” he roared into the gloomy woods. “Mac Roth of the Hundred Battles is here. And I am in a foul mood, for having to rise at such an ungracious hour to deal with the likes of ye.
Eireanngo braugh
!”

The neighbor's back door creaked open. An elderly woman's quavery voice called from the adjoining yard. “Mr. Lir, is something wrong? I heard some yowling and shouting.”

“Why, no, Mrs. Martinez,” Gideon called back, shushing Mac Roth with a gesture. “I'm simply…um…shooing a pesky tomcat from me yard. I apologize for the noise.”

“Well, all right, then.” A moment later, the door shut with a click. All three De Danaan looked at each other and shook their heads.

“How come, in all the adventure stories, the hero never has to deal with nosy neighbors, doing chores, paying bills, or anything like that?” Finn asked.

“Because, Finnegan MacCullen, young warrior of the Tuatha De Danaan—” Mac Roth paused as he sighted along the edge of his knife for any nicks “—this is reality, not fantasy.”

Yawning until his jaw cracked, Finn stretched, then knuckled his eyes with both hands. Sitting cross-legged on top of the picnic table, he leaned back and gazed up at the stars overhead.
It's been over two hours and nothing's happened. I wish they would just attack and get it over with
. He yawned again. Seeing Gideon glance in his direction, he snapped his mouth shut and tried to look alert.

“I saw that,” Gideon called from the far corner, where he waited with Mac Roth. “Why don't ye go in now? We'll stand watch the rest of the night.”

“Nah, I'm good.” Finn unfolded himself and hopped down. Hobbling a few steps, he walked around the yard, warming up his legs as he listened to the Knights murmuring to each other. At the sound of his own name, he ambled closer, trying to act nonchalant as he eavesdropped.

“But I cannot understand why Finn and I have been the target of so many attacks. Just take tonight, for example. What is drawing the Amandán to
us
?” Gideon rolled his shoulders, weariness showing in the movement. “Could it be related to the Spear? Or is it something else?”

Mac Roth scratched at his beard, then smoothed his fingers through it. “Maybe I overlooked something in me research.”

“Or perhaps Iona isn't telling us everything. Ye know how she enjoys playing her games.”

“Only when she knows it will aggravate ye, old friend.” Mac Roth glanced around and noticed Finn nearby. “Sharp ears, Lir.”

Gideon pointed toward the house. “Bed. Now,” he ordered in a tone Finn recognized.

“Hey, I think I'll go to bed, now.” Finn spun around and headed toward the back door. As he made his way upstairs, he thought about his master's words.

What's the deal with lona? I wonder if she really does know where the Spear is. Man, I hope we have it. Then, we can wipe out: the Amandán. Once and for all
.

Reaching his room, he peeled off his filthy clothes and tossed them into the corner. He crawled into bed and clasped his hands behind his head as he lay staring up at the ceiling. The cool night breeze flowed into his room from the open window.

I'm glad Mac Roth isn't mad at me, and that he doesn't think it's my fault about what happened to Asher. That he really believes it was the Amandán that killed him, not me
.

He smiled in the dark as a soft voice called up to him from the backyard.

“
Codladh sumh
, Finn.”

“Ye gods.” Mac Roth looked up from the kitchen table, a forkful of scrambled eggs suspended in front of him. “Gideon, there's a red-combed rooster loose in yer house.”

Finn stood in the doorway, bleary-eyed as he looked around. “A rooster? Where?” He tugged up his sweatpants as he padded, barefooted, across the room and joined the Knight at breakfast, one side of his face still creased from sleep. At Mac Roth's gesture, he reached up and felt his hair sticking out furiously from his head. “Oh. Right.”

Gideon stepped over to the stove and poured more eggs into the skillet with a pleasant sizzle. He glanced over. “I thought ye would have slept later. After all that happened last night.”

Yawning, Finn scratched under an arm. “I tried, but I smelled bacon.” He snagged a piece from the platter in the center of the table and crunched it down in two bites. “What time does the eclipse start?” He swallowed and raced Mac Roth for the last strip, snatching it out from under the Knight's paw. He stuffed it in his mouth with a triumphant laugh.

“Mid-morning—about nine-forty or so. The actual eclipse should last around six minutes.” Gideon scraped more eggs onto Mac Roth's plate, then piled the rest on Finn's. After setting the skillet back on the stove, he poured himself a mug of tea and joined the others.