Finn Finnegan (16 page)

“Hey, thanks again for letting me hang out with Rafe,” Finn said with a grin. “He asked me to come over later.”

Gideon coaxed the engine on and checked the side mirror as he edged into traffic. “Be careful not to wear out yer welcome.” He raised his voice over the truck's grumble. “In fact, toward that end, I want ye home today.”

“Why?”

“Because Mac Roth is meeting with Iona today about some new information she's uncovered. Something that might help us finally locate the Spear.” His jaw muscle twitched. “We certainly need it now, more than ever.”

“Why aren't you meeting with her, too?”

The Knight shifted in his seat. “I have nothing to say to her.” As Finn started to press, Gideon growled, “Leave it be, boyo. I mean it.” Changing the subject, he added, “So, Asher's going to be with us for a few hours. It would be good for ye to train with another apprentice.”

Finn made a face. “It's bad enough we have to hunt with him. Now we have to babysit the creep?”

Gideon frowned as he glanced over at Finn's sullen face. “And just why do ye two dislike each other so much?”

“Because, he's a jerk.”

“And ye, an innocent lamb?”

“Pretty much.”

“So, ye do nothing to bait him? Like call
him Ass-her?
”

Finn blushed and said nothing.

“That's what I thought,” Gideon said as he drove home.

“Get the door,” Gideon said, at the loud thump echoing through the house. He stood rummaging through a stack of papers on his desk. “And stop complaining. ‘Twill not kill ye to spend an afternoon with Asher.”

“It might,” replied Finn, from the depths of the sofa. “Then, you'd feel really bad.” He clicked off the television set and hauled himself to his feet. Stumping over, he opened the door. “
Fáilte
,” he greeted the giant waiting on the porch.

“And to ye, young Finn,” boomed Mac Roth, his flaming beard wreathing his wide smile as he stepped inside. He reached out a massive paw. Grabbing the boy's chin, he tipped Finn's head back. “‘Tis a fine tore ye're wearing. Did ye steal it, now?”

Finn grinned, eyes dancing as Mac Roth let go. “Aye, I did,” he replied, heavy on the accent. “Is yers missing?”

Mac Roth roared with laughter. “Oh, the wee one has a glib tongue.” Still chuckling, he glanced over his shoulder as Asher joined them.

The boys locked eyes. A chilly silence filled the space between them. The Knights exchanged glances across the room and shook their heads.

“Well, I best be off.” Mac Roth turned to his apprentice. “Behave. Or Knight Lir will kick yer arse. And then I will.”

“But Mac…” Asher pleaded, but stopped when his master raised a hand.

“We're not having this conversation again, boyo.” Mac Roth lowered his head. He spoke softly to Asher, one hand dwarfing the apprentice's shoulder. “I'd rather ye not be home alone if at all possible, lad.” He grinned when Asher grumbled under his breath.

“Here is the list ye asked me about,” Gideon said, passing it over to the other Knight. “I'm afraid it is not very accurate, nor up to date.”

Glancing down at the sheet, Mac Roth nodded, then folded it in half and tucked it inside his leather jacket. ‘“Tis a start, for now.” With a wave, he turned and left. The Jeep rumbled away a few moments later.

Finn crowded past Asher as he went to close the door. “You wanna get out of the way?” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

“You wanna shut up?” Asher hissed back. He elbowed Finn in the ribs as he walked past.

With a growl, Finn shoved him backwards. Before Asher could retaliate, Gideon stepped closer and grabbed them both by the backs of their necks. He gave each a shake.

“Enough,” he said, in a stern voice. “Now, outside with ye.” Releasing them with another shake, he led the way across the house, through the kitchen, and out the back door. A flawless summer day awaited them.

Gideon nodded toward the far wall. “Finn, twenty leaps, and I want them cleanly done. Over and back counts as two, but no touching the top stones.”

As Finn jogged over to the fence to begin his routine, Gideon pointed at a wooden target nailed to the side of the house, its red and blue painted circles chipped and scarred. “Asher, knife throwing practice until Finn is done. Then, ye two switch activities.” He waited until Asher slipped two blades free and stepped twenty paces from the target. “I'll be back shortly.” He spun on his heels and went back inside.

Ignoring the
thunk
of the other apprentice's knife as it struck the target, Finn focused on the exercise, trying to make each leap without touching. By the last jump, his legs were concrete. His lungs burned as he gasped the line from the Song. Pushing off the ground on the far side of the wall, he knew in mid-air he wasn't going to make it. His toes snagged the top of the wall as he sailed over. With an
oof
, he landed on his hands and knees, and collapsed. For a moment, he lay sprawled on the lawn, wheezing.

“Oh, real smooth, halfer.” Asher stood in the far corner, watching. “Is that how you earned your tore? By
falling
on the goblin?”

Finn rolled to his feet and wiped the sweat off his face. “At least I
have
a tore,” he panted, resting his hands on top of his head as he walked around, catching his breath. “And I, unlike someone else, don't need a babysitter.”

Asher narrowed his eyes, juggling the knives. He grasped the tip of one of them between fingers and thumb. Cocking his arm back, he threw it, end over end, toward the target. The knife impaled the dead center of the bull's eye. “I bet you can't do that.” Before Finn could reply, the side gate banged open. A voice called out.

“Hey, Finn! You back here?” Rafe strolled around the corner of the house. “I wanted to see if…” His voice trailed off when he saw the various training apparatuses scattered around the yard, and the knife in Asher's hand. “Whoa. What's all this for?”

“Hi, Rafe.” Finn gestured at the items. “Oh, we're just…messing around.” He walked over to his friend and aimed a punch at his stomach.

Rafe laughed and blocked it with a flip of his arm. “Who's that?” he asked, nodding toward Asher. He watched with interest as the other boy threw again. “Wow, he's good.”

“Um…that's…my cousin. Asher.” Finn leaned closer to Rafe. “He's a jerk. I call him Ass-her',” he whispered. They grinned at each other.

“Well, well,” Asher drawled as he sauntered over. He stopped a few feet away, and studied Rafe up and down for a moment. “Gideon lets you hang out with his kind?”

The amusement died in Rafe's face. He started to say something, then whirled around and stalked away.

“You're dead meat,” Finn snarled at Asher. He turned and ran after his friend. “Rafe—wait a sec!” He caught up with the other boy by the side of the house and grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop. “Look, he's a butt, okay? Just ignore him.”

“No big deal.” Rafe jerked his arm free. “The world's full of racists,” he said, not looking at Finn. Hurt flickered in his black eyes. Without another word, he walked away.

Finn watched his friend's taut back. The look on Rafe's face tore at him. Righteous anger swelled his chest and pushed up into his throat. He spun around and stiff-legged it toward the backyard. A dark haze began flooding the edge of his vision. For a brief second, he tried to control his fury, to take a breath, to count to ten, even count to one hundred. To think about something else. All the strategies Gideon had taught him.

Too late.

The warp spasm sank its claws into him, and took over.

Rounding the corner of the house, he broke into a sprint. As Asher looked up from examining the target, a sneer still on his face, Finn picked up speed. A roar burst from his mouth.

“I am a boar enraged!”

“Ye gods!” Gideon dashed across the yard toward the two boys thrashing on the ground, locked in combat. He threw his arms around Finn and lifted him off his feet. Finn struggled, kicking his legs and flailing his arms. Wincing from an elbow to the ribs, Gideon shouted at Asher. “O'Neill, go in the house! Now!”

Asher rolled over to his side, blood oozing from his nose and mouth, one eye already swelling shut. He lurched to his feet, swaying, then staggered toward the door.

“Let me go,” Finn screamed. Dirt and blood from a split lip streaked his chin. With an abrupt twist, he ripped free of the Knight's hold and bolted after his foe.

“Oh, no, ye don't!” Gideon snagged the back of Finn's tee shirt. He dug in his heels, slowing his apprentice long enough for Asher to escape indoors. The back door slammed shut.

Spitting with rage, Finn spun around, wild-eyed with the warp spasm. He swung a fist at Gideon. The Knight blocked the blow with practiced ease. Grabbing Finn's wrist, he hooked his foot around the back of the boy's ankle. With a quick twist, he tumbled him to the ground.

“Now, ye just stay down there, boyo,” Gideon said. He dropped to one knee beside his apprentice, and pinned him to the ground with a hand to the chest.

“I'm gonna kill him!” Finn growled as he fought to rise.

“No, ye're not. Ye're going to take a deep breath and tell me what happened.”

Finn glared up at his master, blinking back tears of anger. He squeezed his eyes tight as he struggled to calm himself. “He…he told Rafe…” He coughed and turned his head, spitting blood.

“Here. Sit up before ye choke.” Gideon grabbed Finn's elbow and pulled him up.

Finn slumped over and rested his forehead on upraised knees, trembling as the warp spasm slowly drained away. In a muffled voice, he explained what had happened. Lifting his face, still white with fury, he looked at the Knight kneeling beside him. “I hate him. I wish he was dead.”

“No, ye don't. Violence is never the solution to any problem.” He snorted and looked away. “And yet, ironically, I spend me days teaching ye how to hunt and destroy other creatures.”

“Yeah, but Amandán aren't like us.” Finn pulled up the neck of his tee, wincing as he dabbed at a cut lip. “They're more like animals.”

“The same thing was once said of Rafe's ancestors,” Gideon reminded him. “Perhaps we are making the same mistake with the Amandán?”

Before Finn could answer, a low mechanical growl saturated the quiet of the neighborhood. They exchanged glances at the sound of Mac Roth's Jeep pulling into the driveway, its tires crunching on the gravel.

“Now, why would Mac Roth be back so early?” Gideon muttered. He rose and dusted the grass off his jeans, then looked down at Finn, still huddled on the lawn. “Stay put until ye have that temper under control.”

Finn blew out a breath. “I'm good.” He examined his battered knuckles. “I guess all that boxing practice came in handy after all.”

Reaching down, Gideon snagged the boy's arm and hauled him to his feet. “I understand ye were defending Rafe. Yer motive was honorable, but yer method was less so.” They crossed the yard and reached the back door just as Mac Roth flung it open.

“I'm gone for less than an hour, and I miss a party!”

“I should have kept a closer eye on these two.” Gideon ushered Finn in ahead of him.

“Ah, ‘tis healthy for young pups to battle it out. Remember all the brawls we had as lads?” Mac Roth stepped to one side as the Knight and his apprentice entered. “Asher has already admitted his part in this.”

Asher sat at the table, holding a dripping cloth to one side of his face. The earthy aroma of
slainte
nettle filled the kitchen. He glowered at Finn with his good eye, his face streaked with grime and blood.

“Sit.” Gideon pushed Finn toward the opposite chair. He dug in a drawer for another rag, then dipped it in the jar already opened on the counter. After wringing it out, he handed it to Finn.