Finn's Choice (17 page)

The
Scáthach's
Shadow: The goddess has the power to summon this magical dark cloud thingy that she uses to ride from place to place. She can't just appear and disappear on a whim. It's like Gideon told me last week—while she has some magical powers, there are limits and constraints on her abilities because she is a goddess of
this
world.

Then, he reminded me again that we are the children of Danu. And that we've got some magic of our own.

More about the Four Treasures that the first Tuatha De Danaan brought to Ireland:

Javelin = Fire. It is supposed to be unbeatable in battle. Did it
inspire the legend of Gideon's Spear, I wonder? I'll ask Mac Roth.

Stone = Earth. According to legend, it will scream or something when the true king of Ireland stands on it. Gideon mentioned that he had met a descendent of the High King here in High Springs. Some Knight named Bannerman Boru.

Sword = Wind. No warrior ever escaped from it once it was drawn. Handy weapon.

Cauldron = Water. It never gets empty. Like a symbol of plenty, maybe?

While the Javelin, the Sword, and the Cauldron are lost—no one knows where they are—the Stone is still on a hill in Ireland. The hill is called Tara.

Better finish this entry. Griffin's coming over later today to show me some tricks while Lochlan and Tara get to go hunting with their masters this afternoon.

Do they know how lucky they are? Speaking of luck, Gideon found a place that repairs broken instruments. Looks like I can get Tara's fiddle fixed after all.

Gideon said he is going to take the cost out of my allowance.

I told him I don't get an allowance.

He said I can do more chores.

I told him I already do all the chores.

He said he will think of something.

Great. Just great.

“It's like boxing,” Griffin said.

Gathered in the back yard, Lochlan and Tara stood staring at the angel while Finn nodded in agreement. The mid-afternoon sun was a cap of warmth on the top of Finn's head, counterbalancing the chill of the air.

“Boxing?” Tara asked. “You mean like the sport?”

“You asked me what it was like to control earth. It's like boxing with the ground. Or, at least the way I do it. I punch the earth and the earth moves.”

“Show them,” Finn said. He motioned his friends back.

Griffin glanced around. Then he knelt down, cocked his fist back, and rammed it into the lawn.
KAA-RAAACCK
! The ground split open. A crack raced north and south from the point of impact. To Finn, it looked like a wound in the ground. The stink of wet earth filled the air.

“Whoa,” Tara said. Lochlan simply stood with his jaw sagging.

Griffin stood up. “Finn, do you think you could summon up enough power through that Song of yours to do something like that?”

“I wish. Gideon and I had the same idea yesterday, but when I tried it, I about broke my wrist.”

“What about using the warp spasm?” Tara suggested.

“Tried that, too. I can't turn it on and off on command. Gideon thinks we're going to have to—”

“Are you two ready?” Mac Roth stepped out of the back door,
his favorite weapon, a bronze hatchet, in his hand. Kel O'Shea walked behind him. She carried a pair of hunting knives.

Finn kicked at a clod of freshly turned soil. “I wish I was going hunting with you guys instead of this.” He waved his hand at Griffin's handiwork.

Lochlan leaned closer to Finn. “Yeah, I wish you were going, too,” he muttered, cutting his eyes at Tara, “instead of
someone else
.”

Tara scowled. “And that makes
two
of us.”

Sick with envy, Finn watched as his friends trotted into the woods after the Knights. As the shouts of “see ya, Finn” died away, he sighed and turned back to a patiently waiting Griffin. He frowned at the angel's crooked grin. “What's the joke?”

“It's your nickname. Cracks me up every time I hear someone else use it.”

“Why?”

“Because it's
my
nickname, too. It's what Basil used to call me. ‘Fin.' Short for Griffin.” He smiled to himself, as if remembering something, then shook his mind free of the memory. “Okay, back to work. Now, how to teach you to manipulate the earth element?” Running his fingers through his hair, he studied Finn, then the ground, then Finn again. “Um…” He clicked his tongue a few times. Finally, he shrugged. “Yeah, I got nothing.”

“Of course you don't.” A voice spoke from the far side of the wall.

Iona.

Finn's hand darted for his knife. Next to him, Griffin snapped
his fingers. A fireball blazed up in his right hand with a
whoosh
.

“Hey!” The sorceress held up her hands, palms out. “Chill, boys. Especially you, Torch,” she said to Griffin. “Gideon asked me to stop by.”

“Why?” Finn asked. He kept his knife at the ready.
A witch is a witch. No matter what
.

The back door opened. “To help with the next trial,” Gideon said. He walked to the back gate. “You may come in.” As he started to open it, he added, “the yard only.”

“She cannot enter unless we invite her,” Finn whispered to Griffin. “So Gideon is always careful to only let her in the yard so that she can't just show up inside our house.”

“Paranoid much?” Iona sashayed past Gideon and into the yard and over to the picnic table by the back door. “Especially when I'm the one who knows how to help the kid.”

“It's
Finn
,” Finn started to growl, then gave up.

Iona took a seat on top of the picnic table. “This next trial is going to require even more exquisite timing and luck.”

“How so?” Gideon asked.

“I've got a really old spell that actually works for anyone, human or Fey. It allows them to be able to move large amounts of earth, including stone. But it's tricky. You need the ashes from the remains of a freshly destroyed Amandán, mixed with shredded cedar leaves and water.”

“How fresh?” Finn asked.

“Why cedar?” Griffin inquired.

“Why Amandán?” Gideon wanted to know.

“Between sunrise and sunset of the day it's destroyed. Because cedar is the tree associated with this element. And because they are not called Bog-born for nothing—they are the creatures most connected with the earth,” she said, answering each question in turn. She crossed her legs and leaned back on her hands. “You mix the two items in a bowl, add water to make a paste, then spread the mixture over your hands and arms, and poof! You're a two-legged bulldozer.” At their doubtful expressions, she added, “Hey, how do you think Stonehenge got built?”

Gideon rubbed a thumb along his jaw. “The cedar leaves we can have on hand. And certainly, Mac Roth and Kel O'Shea can stand ready to find and destroy an Amandán at dawn, which should give us enough time.”

“When is the next trial?” Iona asked.

“Day after tomorrow,” Gideon said.

Finn's head spun around from the logistics. And the impossibility. “Wait. Let me get this straight. One of us has to destroy an Amandán the exact day the
Scáthach
shows up to test me. Then, we have to find a way to get the creature's ashes here, and mix it with cedar so I can rub it on my hands and arms. All the while, hoping the
Scáthach
doesn't notice what we're doing?” He snorted. “I might as well go pack now. Because there is no way I can—”

“I can get the ashes here from where the Knights are hunting,” Griffin said. “Just like before, I'll hide in the house.”

“We cannot use the same strategy,” Gideon said. “The goddess
is already suspicious. No, we must be more clever.”

“How?” Finn could tell his master didn't know. Yet.
But he will. I hope
.

A soft beeping sound. Griffin pulled out his cell phone and studied the screen. “Dang,” he muttered under his breath. “That's Basil. I've got to go.” He texted a message back with his thumbs as he spoke. “We're on stand-by duty today and we just got called up. I'll try to get back here as soon as I can.” He tucked his phone away. “Mr. Lir. Whatever you need me to do, I will.”

“Right. And you best call me Gideon like the others.”

Griffin snorted. “You
have
met my Mentor, right?” With a grin and a wave, the angel vanished in a blast of wind that sent Iona's hair swirling around her head.

“Stupid angels,” Iona said, her eyes narrowed as she untangled her hair and smoothed it into place. “Okay, I'm out of here as well. Let me know what the plan is once you've come up with something.” She sauntered back out the gate. Once in the trees beyond, she dug a handful of gold dust from her pocket and flung it up into the air, then stepped into the glittering cloud. With a soft
poof
, she disappeared as the dust drifted away—daytime fireflies.

“‘My, people come and go so quickly here!'” Finn joked. He looked up at his master. “Get it?”

“I do not.”

“She's a
witch
,” Finn prompted.

“Just so.”

“A
wicked
witch. Now, do you get it?”

“Ah, yes. A quote from the Lords of the Two Rings, is it?”

“No, it was…never mind.”

An hour later, while the lowering sun's rays filled the room with a golden light, Finn stood over the sink, finishing a sandwich.
Why get a plate dirty
?

Movement at the back gate caught his attention; Mac Roth was swinging it open and waving the apprentices through. Finn swallowed the last bite, then shouted to the ceiling above him. “Hey, Gideon? They're back.”

Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, Finn started for the door, then paused and peered more closely through the window. “No way,” he breathed. He sprinted to the door and flung it open.

Tara, knife in hand and her face and the front of her clothes dusted with goblin ash, hurried across the yard. The spring in her step sent her ponytail bouncing with every other stride. Trailing behind, Lochlan, just as dust-covered and his jeans coated with mud, was scowling.

Spotting Finn, Tara stopped and thrust her knife toward the sky in a dramatic gesture. “I did it!” She beamed through a mask of sweat-streaked powder, its greenish color giving her skin a sickly hue. “I bagged one!”

A twinge of envy.
Now
she's
the youngest apprentice to earn her torc
. It faded almost immediately at the look of joy on Tara's face. Finn high-fived her. “I knew you would sooner than later.”

“
And
I saved O'Neill's butt in the process. He was about to become a Happy Meal for a goblin—”

“I was doing just fine.” Lochlan glared at her. “I only slipped in the mud and—”

“And I did this ninja move and nailed the stinky. Right in the chest. Man, this is the best day of my life.” Tara hugged herself.

“Pretty close to being mine, too.” Kel O'Shea joined them, her own smile just as wide. She tucked back a strand of hair from Tara's face, then tried to wipe the muck off her apprentice's face. “You're a mess. Stay here. I'll get some rags.”

“You as well, boyo,” Mac Roth said to Lochlan. The Knights disappeared inside the house.

“So, how did it happen?” Finn tried not to look at Lochlan.

“Miss I'm-A-Girl-Which-Makes-Me-Automatically-Better-Than-A-Boy here tried to shove past me on the trail…” Lochlan began.

“Someone with the coordination of a walrus and a brain the size of a vole stuck out his foot just when the goblins…” Tara said at the same time.

Finn laughed. He started to speak, then froze.

A growing rumble, like a storm roaring down from the mountains to pummel the plains, filled the air. The hairs on the back of his neck leaped to attention as it grew louder.

“Get in the house!” He lunged for Tara. Before he could reach her, a fist of icy wind punched him in the chest. He flew backwards and hit the ground, tumbling head over heels. With a gasp, he struggled to his feet, head spinning. A few feet away, Tara and Lochlan were sprawled motionless on the ground. Finn staggered
over to them.

BOOM
!

Like a giant bat, a black cloud zoomed into the yard. The
Scáthach's
Shadow. Teeth bared, the goddess leaped out from the inky boiling mass, one hand holding her spear. As soon as her feet touched the ground, the cloud thickened and spread out, engulfing Finn in a chilly darkness, like an inky fog bank. Condensation coated his bare skin with a clammy touch. He could just make out his home, a shadowy mass in the fog.

Gideon shouted his name, but it seemed to come from underground or far away. Other shouts as well, including Mac Roth's deep roar. Finn tried to move toward the sounds, but it was like trying to push his way through a mattress.

“Gideon!” His voice rebounded back to him, as if he were shouting into a pillow.