“You mean, by the den we were just at a few days ago?” Finn asked.
“No, the other abandoned gold mine we hiked to several weeks ago. The one further south.” Gideon tucked a knife into his belt sheath and pulled a second weapon from the rack over the fireplace.
“These beasties may be trying to re-open that tunnel,” Mac Roth explained, speaking over the sweesh-sweesh of an oiled whetstone while he sharpened the edge of his hatchet. “They like to den up in old mines. Saves them the trouble and labor of digging.” Finishing up, he placed the stone on Gideon’s desk.
“Yes!” Lochlan pumped a fist into the air. “Maybe I’ll earn my torc today.”
“No, boyo, not this day. Ye’ll stay here and practice with Finn and the others.”
“What?” Both apprentices shouted at the same time.
“But that’s not fair, Gideon.” Finn stabbed a finger at his torc. “I’ve earned the right to hunt with you.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew what was coming next. His heart sank.
Gideon raised an eyebrow. “Rights? Now, what did I tell you before about your rights?”
“That I don’t have any,” Finn mumbled. “‘I am a lowly apprentice whose sole purpose in life is to serve and obey his master in order to stay alive,’” he quoted in a monotone.
“I could not have said it better myself.”
“That’s because you already did,” Finn muttered under his breath.
Gideon ignored the comment. “Now, while we’re gone, you four are to practice with the dummy. Finn, you’ll be in charge of the drill. Fifteen minutes each. If you need more bags, you know where they are. And no leaving the house or yard. For any reason.” After giving them a meaningful look, he headed toward the kitchen.
Finn stared at his retreating back. Then, cursing his master silently, he turned at Lochlan’s pleading voice.
“Ah, come on, Mac Roth. My dad is driving me crazy to earn my torc before the end of summer. Let me at least try, so he’ll stop bugging me?”
“No. This pack is unknown to us. But I’ll make a promise—if they turn out to be easy pickings, I’ll leave a few just for ye, me lad.” Much to Lochlan’s embarrassment, Mac Roth patted his head. “Now, play nice. We’ll be back in a few hours.” He turned and followed the other Knight. A few moments later, the back door slapped closed.
“I don’t believe it—a chance to score, and Mac Roth makes me sit this one out.” Lochlan thumped a fist against his leg. “I’ll never get my dad off my back at this rate.”
Finn flopped down on the sofa. “At least you’re not stuck babysitting everybody like I am.” The words spilled from his mouth before he could stop them. He winced and looked up. “Uh…no offense, right?” There was a long silence. “Right, guys?”
“Nope, I’m totally offended.” Rafe crossed his arms over his chest and exchanged glances with Savannah and Lochlan. “How ‘bout you?”
“Yup.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
The three laughed when Finn’s cheeks reddened to the same shade as his hair.
Nineteen
“We might as well make the best use of our time,” Savannah said after a long minute. “Since this’ll be the last day we can come over and practice.” She started for the kitchen.
“What do you mean?” Finn followed her, stepping in front of Lochlan and cutting him off. Totally unintentionally.
“This is our dad’s last day teaching that seminar, remember? He’ll be home all the time after this until school starts in late August.” She flipped her knife into the air and caught it neatly by the handle. “But hey! Guess who’s coming next week?” Before he could ask, she continued. “Our grandfather. It’s kind of a last-minute thing.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think? He wants to talk to Mom and Dad about what’s going on. Plus, he wants to meet Mr. Lir and you.”
They walked outside to the dummy hanging between the poles and gathered around it. Rafe batted the sack with the butt of his assegai to start it swinging, then leaned against one of the support poles and sighed.
“Man, I wouldn’t mind trying my spear on an Amandán. Grandfather said they used to kill lions with an assegai,” Rafe said. “I bet one of those goblins would be about the same.” He pushed off the post and sauntered over to the back wall. To Finn’s surprise, Lochlan joined Rafe. They stood staring at the distant foothills.
Savannah touched his arm. “Hey. Do you want to go first?” she asked, nodding toward the dummy.
“Yeah. Sure.” He kept one eye on the boys speaking in low voices while he bent over and pulled his knife out from the ankle sheath. I bet I know what they’re talking about, he thought.
“Hey, Finn?” Lochlan called. “Do you remember how to get to that mine? The one Knight Lir was talking about?”
“Why?” Suspicion colored Savannah’s voice.
“Because they’re planning on going after some Amandán,” Finn said before the other apprentice could answer. He raised his voice. “That’s why you want to know, isn’t it?” he asked his friends.
“Don’t you think that’s incredibly dangerous and stupid?” Savannah walked over to the boys, Finn on her heels.
Lochlan snorted. “We’re guys. And we’re thirteen. We’re supposed to do incredibly dangerous and stupid things. It’s kind of a rule.”
“And anyway, Finn’ll be with us.” Rafe gestured toward his friend. “He knows all about hunting them. With him leading us, I can try out my spear and Lochlan can get his torc.”
Finn tried to tamp down the pride swelling his heart at Rafe’s words. “I’m not that good. And anyway, our masters would kill us, or worse, if we took off.”
“Wuss.” Lochlan flipped his knife into the air and caught it behind him. “When did you become such a goody-goody?”
Savannh looked the apprentice up and down. “Jealous?”
Lochlan snorted. “Hardly. I just think this would be a good chance to practice some tracking and all that.” He shot Finn a silent challenge, then added. “And, besides, there’s three of us. We’ll watch each other’s back.”
Feeling Rafe’s and Savannah’s gazes on him, Finn raised his chin. He closed his ears to the tiny voice in his head pointing out that Gideon would not only throw him in the river for disobeying, but would hold him under the water. Probably for a week.
“Right, then.” Finn slid his knife back into the ankle sheath. He tried to ignore the thrill of conceit that zinged through him when he noticed the others waiting for his instructions. This must be what it feels like to be a Knight. “Savannah, you can wait here or at your house. Guys, we better weapon up. I think two blades apiece should be—ow!” He stumbled back a step when Savannah whirled around and poked him in the chest. Hard. With her poky fingernail.
“I’m coming, too, Finnegan MacCullen. And shut up,” she said when he began to protest. “I’m just as good as Rafe, if not better, so get over your old-fashioned male attitude and get me another knife while you’re at it.”
* * *
“Hey, Finn? How much further?” Savannah asked as they walked single-file along the trail snaking through the woods.
“Just up ahead. Maybe another ten minutes,” he replied over his shoulder. Directly behind her, Rafe swung his spear from side to side, whacking the bushes and pine boughs that crowded the little-used path. Each thwack-snap of Rafe’s weapon on the vegetation made Finn jump.
“Dude, knock it off.” At the tail end of the line, Lochlan gave Rafe a light punch. “Amandán are stupid, not deaf,” Lochlan said.
Stepping out of the woods into a meadow, they paused and looked around. Finn’s eyes swept the area. He studied the shadows under the pines encircling the open space and made sure he checked the trees immediately to his left and right. The beasties like to attack from the back and sides, said Gideon’s voice in his head, so best keep your skull on a swivel.
“Is this it?” Rafe took a step forward. “I don’t see anything that looks like
a mine.”
Finn shook his head. “No, we’re not there yet. See?” He pointed across the clearing with his knife. “The path continues on the other side. After that, we’ll hike uphill alongside a stream for about a hundred yards. And the mine’s entrance is blocked off so you can’t go in. Not really much to see.”
“Bummer. I would’ve liked to explore it.” Rafe looked around, then down at his feet. “Hey! Iron pyrite.” He bent over and picked up a rock about the size of a golf ball. At Finn’s blank expression, he held it up between his thumb and finger. “Iron pyrite. Also known as fool’s gold. It looks like gold, but it isn’t. Not worth anything, but this is a good example.”
“Sure looks like gold to me.” Finn peered at the rock.
“Here—you can keep it. I’ve got too many rock samples as it is.” He handed it to him. “So have you also hunted here before?”
“Nah.” Finn slipped the rock into his jeans pocket. “Gideon and I hiked up here a couple of times as a training exercise.” Well, Gideon hiked, he thought. I ran to keep up. Not that I’m going to tell them that.
Savannah wiped her forehead. “I’ll be glad to get to that stream. I’m dying of thirst.”
“You can’t drink the water. It’ll give you giardiasis, remember?” Rafe said absently as he continued to glance around for more rock samples.
“Gee-ah what?” Finn asked.
“Giardiasis. It’s an infection of the small intestine caused by a microscopic organism called giardia lamblia.”
“Science geek,” Lochlan coughed into his fist.
“True that.” Rafe grinned, completely unruffled by the other’s boy comment. “Deal with it.”
“Come on.” Finn headed across the meadow. The others straggled behind, Rafe and Lochlan exchanging good-natured insults. Behind them, Savannah slowed to re-tie her hair band. The summer sun, free from the shadow of the trees, beat down on them.
On the far side of the open space, a figure stepped out of the trees and onto the path.
Iona. She walked slowly, bouncing a rock in one hand, not noticing the four friends. Her eyes were fixed on the ground, scanning back and forth as if looking for something.
Finn’s heart leaped into his throat. He slammed to a halt, then staggered a step when Rafe and Lochlan collided into him. Further back, Savannah let out a squeak.
Iona looked up at the sound, surprised. Then a look of delight spread across her face. “Well, well, if it isn’t my lucky day.” She sauntered closer. Her brown eyes flitted once over the spear in Rafe’s hand before settling on Finn. “Look what we have here. The Spear and a spare.”
An invisible fist socked Finn in the stomach. Next to him, Lochlan stiffened at the mention of the Spear. She knows. Son of a goat—she knows. “What do you mean?” He hoped his voice didn’t sound as shaky as he felt.
“Don’t act stupid.” Iona dropped the rock. She clapped her hands free of dust, then wiped them on her jeans. “I’ve known who and what you are for several days now. You can’t go around killing Amandán with a touch of your blood without word getting out.” Her smile widened. “Running into you like this is going to save me a great deal of difficulty later.”
“Who’s this?” Lochlan murmured. On the other side of Finn, Rafe and Savannah stood poised for action. All four kept their weapons ready.
“I am Iona of the Hills,” the sorceress announced before Finn could answer. She waited a moment, eyebrows raised at the silence that followed. Another moment passed. “The enchantress?”
“Ohhh. Yeah, right. Finn told us about you.” Realization dawned over Lochlan’s face. “The witch.”
“Which witch?” Savannah asked.
“The wicked witch,” Rafe muttered.
In spite of the fear beating black wings at him, a corner of Finn’s mouth twitched. Squaring his shoulders, he raised his chin. “What do you want with us?”
She gestured at the group. “Are these your friends?”
“Yes.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Finn groaned silently. Stupid. Real stupid.
“Excellent.” She began edging closer. Light danced along her arm cuffs. “They’ll help ensure your cooperation.”
“Cooperation for what?”
Iona didn’t answer. Instead, she raised a hand. A gold thread flowed from her index finger. Using it like a pen, she sketched the same Celtic knot in midair that she had drawn in their back yard weeks ago. Almost immediately, the same voice began singing from the shape, whispering his name in rhythm with the thud of the drum, coaxing him to lower his weapon. Vaguely, out of the corner of his vision, he saw Lochlan stagger a step, arms drooping by his side. His own arms felt like thick, meaty sausages hanging in a deli.
Lifting both hands now, the sorceress wiggled her fingers. Gossamer threads poured from them, as if the tips were unraveling. The lines gleamed as they snaked about in midair and formed a web in front of her. It stretched out parallel to the ground, hovering at head height, waiting for her command. Pursing her lips, she puffed out a soft breath.
Finn’s hair blew off his forehead when, in a mighty blast of wind, the web zoomed toward them. It rippled in the sunlight like a net thrown over the water. Finn wondered why he couldn’t move. Didn’t want to move.
His head snapped to one side when someone shoved him. Hard. “Move, you idiot,” Rafe shouted in his ear. Finn blinked and looked around. A few feet away, Savannah was dragging Lochlan backward by the shirt, out of harm’s way.
His mind clearing, Finn jumped in front of his friends. “Get out of here!” Chanting, he hacked at the gold threads. The knife bounced back. He slashed again. This time, a few strands fell away. The web hesitated.
“‘I am the roar of the sea!’” With a shout, Lochlan dashed to Finn’s side. Using a two-handed technique, he tore at the net over and over. A few more threads broke. But not enough. Every time they tried to move away, it followed them, hovering as it spread wider and wider. Dimly, Finn could hear Iona laughing.
Suddenly, Rafe attacked. Holding his spear with both hands straight over his head, he crouched low and ran under the web, dragging the tip of the assegai along the underbelly of the shape. The web began to fold on itself as if Rafe’s spear had drawn a crease down its middle.
Iona called out in a strange language. One of the threads broke loose. It snaked down and wrapped itself around Rafe’s ankles. He crashed to the ground, the wind knocked from his lungs and the assegai from his grasp. As he lay there stunned, gasping like a fish, the net began to settle over him.
“Rafe!” Savannah sprinted forward. She skidded to her knees beside her brother, her knife flashing as she prepared to fend off the mesh. Finn and Lochlan bolted after her.
They’re going to get hurt because of me, Finn thought as he ran. Just because I wanted to show off. Be the big man. Guilt burned like acid in his gut.
“FAUGH A BALLAGH!”
Turning, Finn’s heart leaped at the sound of Gideon shouting the ancient Celtic war cry.
Eyes blazing battle blue, the Knight charged toward them, one hand reaching behind him for a second knife; the first was already in his fist. He pulled his lips back in a wolf-like snarl.
Finn almost laughed when Iona whirled around with a decidedly un-sorceress-like squeak of fright. The web dissolved into a fall of dust, turning Rafe’s and Savannah’s skin into gilded ebony.
She sprinted through the grass for the tree line, clawing at her pocket as she ran, the Knight a few yards behind her. She yanked out a small pouch and dug inside. Glancing back, she cursed when she saw Gideon gaining on her. With a frantic gesture, she flung a handful of gold dust into the air and disappeared into the glittering cloud.
Slowing, Gideon halted in the middle of the meadow, staring at the spot where she had disappeared. His fists clenched and unclenched around the handles of the weapons. “Are any of you injured?” he asked over his shoulder as the four friends rose to their feet. Rafe rubbed an elbow, then gave a thumbs up. The others shook their head
s.
“No, sir,” Finn said. “We’re all okay.” He blew out a breath. “Ye gods, it was a good thing you showed up when—” He gulped down the rest of the sentence when the Knight turned to face them. Something in his master’s face made him ease back a step. Oh, crap. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Mac Roth coming along the trail behind Gideon, whistling a tune. He carried a pair of deer antlers in one hand.
“Look what I found still attached to a kill, Lir.” He waved the horns in the air. “These will fetch a decent price. I know of a craftsman who uses antlers for…” His feet slowed at the sight of the four youths. For a moment, he looked about in confusion.
“Mac Roth, would you and Lochlan escort the twins home?” Gideon nailed Finn with an icy gaze as he shoved one of the knives into his belt sheath. “My apprentice and I will be along shortly.”
Twenty
Finn watched with a sinking heart as Mac Roth herded the others toward home. Rafe glanced back and gave him an “it was nice knowing you” look. For several minutes after they left, he could still hear Lochlan protesting loudly about the missed hunt. When the apprentice’s voice faded away, Finn took a deep breath. Might as well get this over with. He opened his mouth to speak, then snapped it closed at the sight of Gideon’s raised eyebrow.
Without a word, the Knight pointed to the ground in front of him. Dragging his feet through the grass, Finn stepped closer. But not too close. Just in case. He kept his eyes fastened past Gideon’s left elbow.
The silence stretched. A grasshopper landed near Finn’s toes with a brrr-cheep before hopping away. Overhead, a stray cloud drifted between the sun and the earth, pulling its shadow along. He jumped when Gideon spoke.
“Tell me something, Finnegan MacCullen.” His master’s voice was eerily composed. “Do you wake up each morning determined to defy me?”
“No, sir.”
“So, this was more of an opportunistic sort of thing. A chance to disobey me comes along and you must embrace it like a brother, eh?”
“No, sir.” Finn licked his lips, suddenly aware of a raging thirst. “Things just…just happen before I can stop ‘em.”
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