Finn's Choice (14 page)

“Is everything okay?” Finn asked without thinking.

“All ponies and rainbows.” Embarrassment darkened Griffin's face. “Listen, keep practicing until you can turn it on and off without thinking about it. You said the brew lasts a few hours?”

“Give or take,” Gideon said. “I thank you for your help.”

“Not a problem. Call me if you want another lesson or anything.” Griffin glanced around the yard, craning his neck to check the woods behind the property. With a final nod, he took a running step. A gust of wind slapped Finn in the face. Then, the angel was gone.

Gideon sniffed. “Grandstander.”

Finn practiced for another hour, until all he was producing was smoke. Blowing on the tip of his finger like it was an old-fashioned six-shooter, he kicked leftover snow onto the final smoldering patch of grass. With the afternoon sun low in the sky, he followed his shadow to the back door.

“I think I'm starting to get the hang of it, Gideon.” He toed off his shoes and nudged them into the corner behind the door. “How long do you think the trial will last? I'd hate to run out of fuel.”

Standing at the counter slicing potatoes, Gideon shook his head. “Not only do we not know how long the trial will last, we do not even have a clue as to its nature. If only we knew—” A knock on the front door. “Get that, would you?”

Finn padded to the front of the house in his socks, strongly aware of the smell of smoke lingering about his clothes. He opened the door.

“Hey.” Tara stood there, playing with the end of her braid. “Kel sent me over to see if you guys want to come eat supper with us—we just got back from the store and she's all excited to cook in our new kitchen. You can say no if you want,” she added, clearly hoping he would. Then, before Finn could answer, she leaned forward and sniffed. “You smell like the inside of a fireplace.”

“I know. I've been practicing.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, yeah. Kel said that those angels were going to help you. So, did you…flame on?”

“I got some to shoot out of the ends of my fingers.”
And if that didn't sound totally weird, I don't know what does
.

“Was it hard to do?”

“No, it just felt like when you…” Before he said the word
pee
, he stopped himself. “When you blow your nose.”

“Did it burn you?”

“No, not at all.” He hesitated, then added. “But it freaked me out the first time I did it.” Wondering why he'd admitted that to her, he waited for the ridicule. Instead she simply nodded.

“I would freak out, too, if my hand was on fire,” she said with
a faint grin.

Finn had never noticed that her nose wrinkled slightly when she smiled.

Changing the subject, she glanced past him, then whispered, “They like each other. Kel and your master.”

“I know,” Finn whispered back.

“And?”

“And, what?”

“And, what are we going to do about it?”

Finn shrugged. “Nothing.”

“You don't think it's kind of…?” Tara waved her hand aimlessly in the air.

I don't know what I think
. “I guess.”

They both jumped when Gideon appeared behind Finn. “Tara Butler. What brings you to our door, miss?”

“Kel wanted to know if you two would like to have supper with us. You can say no if you want,” she repeated.

“No,” Finn said.

“We'd be delighted,” Gideon said at the same time.

Tara sighed. “Okay, I'll let her know. In about an hour?” She jogged down the stairs.

Finn waited until his master headed back to the kitchen, and then leaned out to watch her until she disappeared behind Gideon's truck.

The Journal of Finnegan MacCullen: Sunday, October 20

Four days to go. She's coming back on Thursday. I have GOT to pass the trial!

The Journal of Gideon Lir: Sunday, October 20

Finn's level of anxiety is matched by mine. But, for this evening, I was able to lay aside the burden and enjoy the company of an old friend.

In spite of everything, a new joy.

“I need more of that potion,” Finn said over breakfast the next morning. “Do you think Iona can give us enough so that I can practice, as well as be ready for Thursday?” The thought of the
Scáthach
made his stomach rebel; he forced another spoonful of his oatmeal down, hoping it wouldn't come back up later.

“I'll ring her shortly.” Gideon sat with his hands cradled around his mug, a crease between his black brows. Finn noticed his breakfast was only half-finished. His master cleared his throat.

“Finn?”

“Yes, sir?” He waited a few minutes. “Gideon?”

“There is another way. We could flee…”

“No! You're not giving up your Knighthood. And
I'm
not giving up on the chance to
be
a
Knight
. Uh-uh, no way. Not going to happen.”

Leaning back in his chair, Gideon studied him, the line between his brows smoothing away. “Certain, you are, that you will pass this first trial, eh?”

“No. I think it's going to be an epic fail. But, I'm not giving up without a fight. Heck,
you
taught me that.”
He's taught me a lot of things
.

“Well stood, MacCullen.” He pushed away from the table. “We best fetch more of the brew, then.”

“Nope, sorry.” Standing near her fire pit, Iona shook her head, her curls bouncing like in a shampoo commercial.

“And why not?” Gideon asked.

“Well, for one thing, I don't have any brewed right now. Plus,
he needs to drink it smoking fresh for it to be effective. And, like I told you before, it only lasts a few hours. When's the
Scáthach
due to arrive?”

“On Thursday, but we don't know
when
, that's the problem.” Finn shifted from foot to foot. “Couldn't you just hang out nearby that day?”

“Hang. Out.” Iona looked at him like he had asked her, in Urdu, to shave her head bald. “Like, what? Hide in the trees behind your house and hope the Goddess of Narrow-Mindedness doesn't spot me? Have a fire going to keep the potion warm until you need it? Then, somehow, sneak a bottle of the stuff over the wall without anyone noticing? Maybe tie the bottle to a squirrel's tail and have the creature bring it to you?”

“Can you do that?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“The problem is getting the potion to Finn in a timely manner, yes?” Gideon stroked his chin. “And in a way that keeps all this hidden from the
Scáthach
. In case she decides your assistance crosses the line, as they say.”

“What are you thinking, Lir? As I mentioned earlier, she's got a nasty vendetta against me, so your idea better be a good one.”

“Griffin.”

The sorceress blinked. “You mean the legendary half-lion, half-eagle mythical creature?”

Finn gasped. “Do you think he'd help us?”

“Who?” Iona asked.

“Aye, I believe he might,” Gideon said. “He did indicate he wanted to do so. And he could certainly move swiftly enough from Iona's to our house.”

“Hey. Remember me?” The sorceress snapped her fingers. “What are you guys talking about?”

“Angels. Or really, one angel. Griffin,” Finn said. “He's Basil's apprentice.”

Iona held up her hands. “Uh-uh. No way. I don't do angels.”

“All you would need to do is have the potion ready,” Gideon said. “You can arrange to meet Griffin on the edge of your property. He'll fly the bottle to us, and your involvement will be finished.”

“And what's the
Scáthach
going to say when an angel shows up and hands a steaming bottle of what is clearly a magical brew to Finn here?”

That's what I'm wondering
, Finn thought.

“Our problem to solve.” When Iona hesitated, lips pressed in a thin line, Gideon added, “You owe us for those angel hairs, I might point out.”

Iona made a face. “Fine. I'll do it. But I want to meet with him beforehand. Even though he's just a Tiro—”

“What's a Tiro?” Finn asked.

“It is their ancient title for apprentice,” Gideon said. “Unlike the celestial angels, who have nine choirs or levels, the Terrae Angeli have only four: Sage, Guardian, Mentor—that is what Basil is—and Tiro, or apprentice.”

“Enough with the history lesson.” Iona said. “Now, as I was saying, even though this
Griffin
is just an apprentice, I want you two nearby, just in case, when we go over the logistics. Wednesday. High noon.”

“Why, do you think he is going to try something after offering to help Finn?” Gideon asked.

“You never know with angels. Avenging is their middle name.”

Two days later, Finn and Gideon waited in their truck at the edge of Iona's drive. The sun, freed from clouds for the last two days, had melted all the snow, except for a patch or two in the deepest pockets of shade. Through the windshield, Finn could see the
triquetra
gleaming, as if it were freshly oiled. The building beyond sat brooding, resentful of the bright day.

He looked around the area and sighed. “What time is it?” he asked Gideon for the fourth occasion.

The Knight unrolled his window and stuck his head out and looked up. “Just noon now.”

“How do you do that? Tell time by the sun and stars and stuff?”

“'Tis quite simple. You take into account the tilt of the earth on its axis in conjunction with its orbit around the sun and—”

“Look!” Finn pointed out his window.

Off to one side, a solitary pine tree suddenly whipped forward, then back, as if being hit with a gust of wind. Needles showered down, glittering from residual moisture. The tree shuddered, then stilled.

Griffin stepped out from behind it. Raking his hair back with
both hands, he smoothed it into place with a practiced move, then tugged his T-shirt straight as he glanced around. Spotting their truck on the edge of the parking area, he lifted his chin in greeting and jogged over.

“Wow. Cool truck,” he said as they climbed out.

“I hate it. It's a piece of junk,” Finn said before Gideon could speak.

“Really?” Griffin eyed it in admiration. “I kind of like the whole vintage look.”

“
Vintage
?” Gideon's left eyebrow shot up.

Griffin nodded. His smile faded at Gideon's expression. “I mean vintage in a totally good way.” He cleared his throat. “Um, I think I'll shut up now.”

With that, the angel walked over to the symbol. Finn and Gideon followed. Stopping a few feet from it, the angel stood staring at the
triquetra
, his hands held in front of him, palms forward. A muscle in his cheek twitched.

“Can you feel it? Like needles poking?” Griffin asked them with a look of distaste. He licked his lips. “By the Light, I can almost taste it, too, like…like…vinegar. Sour, you know?” Cocking his head, he studied the ward, then knelt down on one knee. “Let's see what we got here.” He began sweeping the gravel aside.