The Hound at the Gate (24 page)

With a cough, the truck engine came to life. The goblin squatting on the hood leaped straight up into the air with a yelp of surprise before tumbling off to one side.

“And
stay
off, ye bleedin' git!” Gideon yanked the stick shift into gear. He gunned the motor, then released the clutch. “Hold tight!”

The truck leaped forward. It bucked twice as it rolled over several Amandán stupid enough to stand in the way. Clearing the row of parked vehicles, he steered for the path leading back to the campsite, fighting the wheel one-handed over the rough terrain as he flipped on the headlights

Gideon glanced in the rearview mirror. One Amandán, still along for the ride, stood upright in the bed of the truck. It swayed from side to side as it clung to the rack on the top of the cab. With a savage twist of the wheel and a well-timed brake, he sent the truck into a sideways skid. Losing its grip on the rack, the goblin flew out of the back and disappeared into the darkness. Straightening the wheel, the Knight stomped on the gas and sped for the archway leading into the woods.

Branches slapped the mirrors on either side as they raced along. Gideon winced when a broken limb screeched along the driver's side, tearing a scratch in the already scratched-up paint job. A split second later, another limb ripped off the passenger-side mirror. It dangled for a moment, banging and rattling against the side of the truck before falling off. Praying to the Goddess the trail wouldn't become any narrower, Gideon held his breath until they shot out of the pine grove. Entering the campsite, he slowed.

Next to him, Finn twisted around enough to peek back. “Looks like they've fallen behind.”

“Good.” O'Shea pointed up ahead. “Gideon, slow down just beyond that tipi.”

“Why?”

“Because my tent's on the other side. I need to grab another quiver of arrows.”

“I do not think it would be safe for you—”

“See, that's your problem.
Thinking
.” Before Gideon could reply, she continued. “I know what I'm doing. Just slow down enough for me to jump out and grab some more arrows, then we'll be on our way.”

Letting the truck roll to a creep, Gideon kept one eye on the rearview mirror as the Knight leaped out, dashed over to her tent, and ducked inside. He saw Finn holding the door ajar. “Good lad.”

Finn shrugged. “I don't want Tara to shoot me in the butt.”

“In the butt.”

“Yup. Two arrows. One for each cheek.”

Gideon started to ask, then changed his mind.

A few seconds later, O'Shea darted back out, a full quiver in one hand. Running alongside the truck, she jumped back in.

“Did you miss me?” she said with a grin. She pulled a water bottle from her jacket and handed it to Finn, who gulped half down before passing it around.

Gaze locked on the mirror, Gideon shook his head. “No, not at all. In fact, we were just—son of a goat!”

Amandán boiled out of the night, their faces demonic in the red gleam of the taillights.

Letting loose a string of curses he was certain Finn was storing away to use later, he accelerated with a roar. Wrenching the wheel from side to side, he wove around the tents and fire rings, the rocks pummeling the undercarriage. Sometimes, he even missed them. As they lurched along, there was a sudden snort of amusement next to him. He glanced over.

Keeping one hand braced against the roof of the cab to protect his skull, Finn shook his head. “Only a mad Celt would bring a truck to a goblin fight,” he joked, face pale but determined.

“Would you rather walk, then?” Gideon replied in just as light a tone. Inside, he marveled at his apprentice's resiliency.
When did the boy become so stalwart?

“It might be safer, considering the way
you
drive.”

“A bold boast from a boyo who can scarcely reach the pedals. Do you think you can do better?”

“Can't do any worse.” Finn grinned. “I'm not the one who drove our old truck off the road, remember?”

“Cruel you are to remind me of that.”

Finn shrugged. “The truth hurts.”

“What are you guys talking about?” O'Shea asked.

“Never you mind,” Gideon growled.

“I'll tell you later,” Finn said at the same moment.

All three grinning, they shot past the last of the tents. Bursting out of the trees into the open field, Gideon floored the pedal. Dust and dried grass billowed up behind them. The goblins fell back, unable to match the speed of the vehicle.

They bumped along. Gideon could make out the lumpy figures rampaging around the outside of the barn doors. As they reached the middle of the field, he slowed down. Squeezing the steering wheel in frustration, he stared at the mob of besiegers. “How to break through,” he muttered to himself. Next to him, Finn and O'Shea peered through the windshield in silence.

Suddenly, Finn's earlier words flitted through his head.
Only a mad Celt would bring a truck to a goblin fight
. “I've an idea.” He glanced back once more, then braked to a stop and put the truck into neutral.

“What?” Finn and O'Shea asked at the same time.

Opening his door with a creak of battered metal, Gideon climbed out, then motioned Finn to take his place. “Finn—you're driving. Kel—in the bed with me.”

She gave a curt nod and slid out. Finn passed her the bow.

As she clambered into the back of the truck, Gideon waited by the open door while Finn scooted into position. “Do you remember how to do this?”

“Yes, sir.” Finn stuck out his right hand and mimicked using the stick shift. “First, second, third, fourth. And reverse. Gas pedal on the right, brake in the middle, clutch on the left.” He gripped the wheel. “What's the plan?”

“Drive straight toward the Amandán with horn blaring and engine roaring. I want them scattered and confused. Keep the vehicle moving smartly along. Knight O'Shea and I will be in the back.”

“Why? What are you two— Oh, I get it.” Finn nodded in admiration.

“Uh…guys?” She knocked the roof of the cab. “We better get moving. That group behind us is coming up fast.”

“Right. And Finn? If anything should happen to us, you make for the barn doors. With luck, the others will open them long enough for you to get to safety.”

“Yes, sir.”

Gideon narrowed his eyes. “Are you feeding me a falsehood? Or are you really going to obey me this time?”

“Totally a lie.” Finn flashed a grin, then pulled the door closed before the Knight could cuff him on the head.

“Cheeky brat.”

Vaulting one-handed into the truck bed, Gideon paused to glance back at the pack racing toward them, then took a stance next to O'Shea. “Will you be able to shoot whilst moving?”

“I have no idea.” Quiver already slung behind her back, she nocked the first arrow. “I've never done this before. But I've always fancied trying it.” She turned around to face backward. “But I better start with that pack behind us. See if I can't get their numbers down.” Bracing her feet, she pulled the string all the way back.

Muffled by the rumble of the engine, the first arrow flew in silence. As Gideon watched with growing admiration, arrow after arrow sped away. With a fluid grace, the Knight reached back, loaded, pulled, and released, over and over. Yowls mixed with threats filled the night. After several minutes, a thin haze of goblin dust was drifting low over the field like a creeping mist. The few remaining goblins hightailed it back into the woods.

“Oh,
gle mhaith
, lass.” Gideon squeezed her shoulder. “'Twas fine shooting.”

Their eyes met. Then O'Shea gave a nod and moved to adjust the strap of her quiver. Gideon dropped his hand.

For the briefest of moments, battle was the second thing on his mind.

Licking his lips, Finn inched forward on the seat. He pressed down on the brake, just to make sure he could flatten it, then rolled down his window. Sticking his head out, he twisted around to look back at his master. “You ready?”

“Aye.” Gideon leaned over. “Leave the window down so you can hear me. Now, best speed.”

With a silent plea to Danu to
please, don't let me screw up
, Finn shifted into first and stomped down on the gas. Apparently, the Goddess was listening. The vehicle shot forward. He glanced back to make sure the two Knights were still with him.
Good thing they have that rack on top to hang on to
. Shifting into second, he almost cheered when he managed
not
to stall the engine.

Bouncing along over rocks and grass, Finn clung to the steering wheel as they tore across the field, his bandaged hand slipping a bit. He hammered on the horn, pausing long enough to shift into third, then continued honking. Ahead of him, black shapes darted to and fro, confused by the noise and light. Once in a while, a cat's-eye green would flicker in the light of the headlamps. He tightened his grip on
the wheel and pointed the nose of the truck at the group mobbing the doors of the barn. “
Faugh a ballagh!
”

Finn laughed when the Amandán scattered to all sides like pigeons at a park. “Hang on!” he hollered out the window, then jerked the wheel sharply to the right. The end of the truck fishtailed around and smacked the side of the barn with a
crash
. It was stout timber versus steel fender. The timbers won.

“Finnegan!” Gideon shouted in protest.

“Watch it!” O'Shea added.

“Sorry!” he yelled back.

Out of the night, a goblin leaped onto the driver's side running board. Clinging to the window frame one-handed, it thrust its other hand through the window, clawing at Finn's face.

With a gasp, he flung himself sideways across the seat, stretching to keep the tip of his shoe on the gas pedal. The truck veered away from the building.

With a flash of bronze, a knife whipped down and across. The beast tumbled off the truck, screaming. Straightening up, Finn breathed a sigh of relief, then grimaced. A set of black-tipped fingers still clung to the window frame by his shoulder. After a second, they dissolved into powdery smudges.

Trying not to gag, he wheeled the truck around in a wide arc and sped after a throng of beasts fleeing toward the safety of the bridge. Gideon shouted something, but the rush of the wind and the rattle of the truck drowned out his master's voice. Finn shifted again and pulled alongside of the beasts. Matching their speed, he glanced in the rear mirror and watched as O'Shea leaned out over the right-hand wall of the bed, dagger in hand.
Guess she's saving her arrows
. With a shout, the female Knight hacked at the nearest Amandán.

“Watch out!” Even as Finn yelled, another goblin leaped for her, trying to drag her from the truck. Without thinking, he wrenched the wheel to the left as hard as he could and peeled away from the pack.

O'Shea tumbled from the vehicle and disappeared. Gideon leaped after her.

“No!” Finn stomped on the brake with both feet. His chin hit the steering wheel as the truck skidded to a stop. He twisted around and looked back, heart wedged in his throat.

His master was up and running back toward O'Shea and the goblin reaching for her. Cocking back his arm, the Knight threw in midstride. The knife flipped end over end in a lazy loop-the-loop, the moonlight flickering like a red-orange flame along its blade. It buried itself in the beast's chest. A screech. Then gray powder blew everywhere. A tiny corner of Finn's mind elbowed him.
See?
That's
why Gideon makes you practice knife throwing. All the time
.

The rest of the fleeing Amandán spun around at the death cry. Spotting the Knights now afoot, they yelped in anticipation and charged back, jostling each other, even as they ran, for a front-row position.

In desperation, Finn yanked on the stick shift. It refused to budge. “Son of a goat—move!” He yanked harder. The gearbox protested the abuse, then finally shifted over to reverse. He floored the pedal. Then, cursing aloud with a vocabulary that would have impressed his master, he veered wildly from side to side.

As he drove backward.

For the first time.