Finn Finnegan

by Darby Karchut

  Rafe and Savannah are out there. What if the goblins go after them? They don’t know how to fight. Rafe will try to save his sister, but the monsters will grab them. Just like Asher. They’ll grab them and then…and then…

  But what about the Spear? He doesn’t say it, but I know Gideon thinks the Amandán are going to finally finish us off. That we are doomed as a people.

  “Ye gods, what am I supposed to do?” he whispered. “Go, or stay here?”

  Finn hesitated, his gut twisting. Then, he tightened his lips and grabbed two knives from the circle. As he knelt down to slip one into his ankle sheath, he froze and stared at the gap left by the two missing weapons.

  The gap helped form a new shape; an unfinished circle with open ends.

  Like a torc.

  Finn ran. He tore uphill, along the trail, with a knife clenched in one hand, gasping a line from the Song. “‘I am a wind on the sea’.” His legs burned as he shot over the crest. Catching his wind on the downhill, he sucked in a deep breath and shouted Rafe’s name, his voice echoing through the silent forest. He slowed to listen.

  No answer.

  Picking up speed, he turned a corner and followed the trail as it ran parallel to the slope. He hurtled along, banked around another curve, and plowed up the next hill. Reaching a three-way fork in the trail, he skidded to a stop, his chest heaving. Oh, crap. Which way? Cupping his hands around his mouth, he hollered again, swerving side to side. “Rafe! Rafe, where are you?”

  Savannah’s scream ripped through the woods.

  Finn whirled toward the sound. Stumbling over a root, he fell to the ground with a grunt. The gravel tore his hands and knees, while the knife sailed into the underbrush. He lurched to his feet and dove in, cursing as he pawed through the vegetation. Locating the weapon, he gripped the handle, ignoring the pain of his bleeding palms. A red trickle ran down one wrist.

  Savannah cried out again, her voice rising in anger.

  He took off, running north. Ahead of him, an outcropping of rock appeared, towering over the tops of the nearby trees. He knew what lay at the cliff’s feet.

  The place where Asher had died.

  Finn sprinted the final yards. With a shout, he hurtled through the bushes surrounding the clearing.

  Thirty

  Savannah shook Rafe’s restraining hand off her arm. “Stay behind me,” she yelled, swinging a branch as the monster from a nightmare crouched a few feet away.

  “Yeah, right.” He crowded next to her, trying to grab the stick from her hand. “And give me that.”

  “No way. Get your own,” she gritted through her teeth, taking another swipe.

  With a stroke of its paw, the Amandán smacked the branch out of Savannah’s hand. It spun away and landed by the foot of the rock wall.

  “Nar, if it isn’t the De Danaan’s little friends,” the creature rasped in delight. “Ever since that whelp killed two of me mates, I’ve been wanting to meet ye.”

  “Oh my gosh, it talks” Savannah breathed.

  Rafe raised his chin. “What do you want with us?”

  The Amandán licked its lips. “Why, to invite ye to supper.” A twisted grin split its muzzle, the smell from its yellow mouth sour as vinegar. Spreading its massive arms wide as if to embrace its prey, it lowered its head and charged.

  At that moment, a figure leaped into the clearing.

  “Shut your eyes!” Finn landed between the goblin and his friends. With a grunt, he buried his blade in the beast. He ducked his own head as the Amandán exploded, ash blowing everywhere. The knife fell to the ground with a clatter.

  Finn snatched up the blade and scanned the area. “Are there more?” he panted. At the silence behind him, he glanced over his shoulder. “Guys! I said, did you see any others?”

  They both flinched at Finn’s harsh tone. “N-no,” Rafe said. He stared at the pile of ash by his feet.

  Edging back toward them, Finn kept the knife at the ready as his eyes swept the surrounding woods. “Listen, we’ve got to get out of here and back to my house. We’ll be safe there.”

  “What are those things?” Savannah asked. Her face and clothes, like her brother’s, were dusted with a coating of grayish powder.

  “I’ll explain everything when we—” He froze. A shadow flitted across the clearing. Narrowing his eyes, he watched as the crow circled overhead. “This is not good.”

  “More of those monsters?” Savannah asked.

  Finn nodded. Turning around, he looked at his friends. They’re going to think I’m crazy no matter what I tell them, so I might as well tell them the truth.

  “They’re called Amandán. And, yeah, they’re real. Whatever you do, do not let them touch your head or face with their hands, or you’ll die. From a stroke.”

  “Can we fight them?” Rafe fingered the bracelet encircling his wrist.

  “Heck with that.” Savannah stooped to tighten the laces on her athletic shoes. “Can we outrun them?” Glancing at her brother’s confused expression, she added. “Hey, I may be brave, but I’m not stupid.”

  Finn pulled at his pant leg and slid the second knife free. “Here.” He passed it, handle-first, to Rafe. “Bronze destroys them.” He gestured toward the pile of ash with his own blade.

  “How do I…?” Rafe held the weapon tentatively as he looked at Finn.

  “You stick them with the sharp end.” He watched the crow as it continued to wheel in the sky above them. Do we try to make a run for it? Or do we stay and keep the rock to our backs? Either way, we’re screwed. He glanced at the Steels, trying to decide. Maybe I should ask them. It’s their lives, too.

  “So here are our options—run like heck, and hope we don’t stumble into any other Amandán that are out there. Or stay here, and fight them off. This cliff is defensible and they can’t sneak up behind us.”

  The Steels looked at each other.

  “Run like heck,” Savannah said.

  “Stay and fight,” Rafe decided.

  All three stiffened at the sound of movement in the nearby bushes. Twigs snapped. Behind a thick stand of scrub oak, a dark form rose. It swayed from side to side, then vanished. The forest held its breath.

  Before the boys could stop her, Savannah scurried over to the rock wall and snatched up the fallen branch. Gripping her weapon in both hands, she pushed her hair out of her face and took a stance between them.

  “Keep your backs against the cliff,” Finn instructed. “And hold tight to your weapons—it’s easy to lose them during a fight.” His eyes flew back and forth, trying to watch all sides at once. He wiped his still-bleeding palms on his tee shirt, then took a firmer grip on the blade. “Here it comes!”

  The Amandán burst from the underbrush. Knocking Savannah off her feet with its shoulder, it dodged under Finn’s swing and lunged at Rafe. Gritting his teeth, Rafe stabbed and missed. The goblin hissed and slapped at the boy’s arm. The weapon flew out of his hand.

  “Watch out!” Finn jumped in front of his friend just as Rafe dove for the knife. They crashed into each other, the impact sending them both to the ground. Finn groaned in dismay as his own knife disappeared into the nearby bushes. Rolling to his feet, he grabbed Rafe and shoved him over next to his sister. Weaponless, he turned to face his foe.

  I’m going to die here. And so are Rafe and Savannah. The realization tore through him as the Amandán snarled and popped its knuckles, preparing for the kill. Then it charged.

  In desperation, Finn grabbed the goblin’s wrists, frantic to keep its scrabbling fingers away from his head. Its ugly mug filled his vision; he was sure he could see up the goblin’s nostrils and right into its skull. Tightening his grip, he struggled to keep his feet under him as the Amandán flung itself from side to side.

  “Let go, ye little tick,” it snarled.

  All of a sudden, the Amandán froze. Then, with a piercing shriek, it yanked loose, howling in agony as it swiped at its wrists where Finn had touched them. Foam began spewing from its mouth like soda fro
m a shaken can. Convulsing spasmodically, it collapsed, face hitting the ground. Its hands and feet clawed at the dirt. With a final jerk of its limbs, it shuddered to a halt.

  It lay there in a stinking heap.

  His chest heaving, Finn stared down at the dead Amandán, an odd humming in his ears. He blinked. Black dots began dancing in the corner of his vision. He shook his head, blinking again. Lifting his hand to rub his eyes, his arm felt heavy, as if the bones had turned to stone. Swaying, he stuck out an unsteady leg and poked the carcass with his toe, gingerly at first, then harder.

  “How did you do that?” Savannah asked as they approached, grimacing at the carcass. “Phew! Do they always smell this bad?”

  Finn nodded once, his mind reeling. He watched as Rafe picked up the other knife.

  “I think we should pull a Savannah, now,” Rafe said.

  “What’s that?” his sister asked, the cudgel back in her hand.

  “You know. Run like heck.”

  Something heavy and fast thundered through the woods; more than one pair of feet pounded against the ground, charging toward them. Perched overhead on the clifftop above them, the crow gave a final caw and flew off over the treetops.

  The three looked at each other, their faces streaked with sweat and goblin residue. Turning to confront the approaching enemy, they stood shoulder to shoulder. The crashing and splintering sound swelled, as if the monsters were determined to tear down every tree to reach them. Trembling from more than just nerves and fear, Finn sucked in a shaky breath. The humming in his ears rose to a high pitch as the world dimmed around him.

  Suddenly, a call rang through the hills like a battle horn. His heart leaped at the familiar voice shouting the ancient war cry.

  Gideon burst into the clearing a moment later, Mac Roth on his heels. The Knights skidded to a halt when they spotted the dead Amandán. As Finn watched through mounting darkness, his master lowered his weapon and started toward him. He could see the Knight’s lips moving, as if shouting something, but there was no sound. Finn swayed, desperate to stay upright.

  Then, the ground rushed up to meet him.

  Thirty-One

  Gideon caught Finn in his arms just before his apprentice hit the dirt. Ignoring the slurred voice complaining about being picked up, he carried him over to the edge of the clearing. Dropping to one knee, the Knight lowered him onto a clean patch of grass. “Are ye with us, boyo?” He patted the boy’s cheek.

  Finn blinked. “W-what happened?”

  “Ye passed out. Or very nearly.” Gideon eased him upright into a sitting position.

  “Whoa. Talk about a head rush.”

  After a few minutes, Finn gave a nod, took Gideon’s proffered hand, and pulled himself to his feet. He looked past the others hovering nearby and gazed in wonder at the dead Amandán. “Did I really do that?”

  “Aye.” Gideon blew out a long breath. “Ye gods, Finnegan, ye found it. Ye found the Spear.”

  Finn shook his head. “It wasn’t the Spear. I…I grabbed the Amandán, and it spazzed out, and then it just died”

  “What?”

  As Finn explained, Mac Roth flipped the carcass face-up with his boot. “‘Tis certainly well and truly dead.” He squatted down and ran the tip of his knife through the foam coating the beast’s lips. “It looks like it’s been poisoned.” He stood up and exchanged glances with Gideon.

  “Ye said ye simply seized it, and then it died?” Gideon asked Finn. When Finn nodded, he looked over at Mac Roth. “Are ye…” he began.

  “…thinking what I’m thinking?” Mac Roth finished.

  “Aye, I am. Finn, let me see yer hands.” As the apprentice held them out, Gideon reached over and ran a finger through one of the seeping wounds. “Yer hands were bloodied before ye touched it?”

  Finn nodded again. “So, how come it didn’t turn into a pile of powder afterwards?”

  His brows knitted in thought, Gideon reached into his back pocket and pulled out his handkerchief. Using his knife, he sliced the fabric in half and began bandaging Finn’s wounds.

  “Gideon?” prompted Finn.

  A corner of the Knight’s mouth twitched as he worked. “Could it be that simple, Mac Roth? It seems so far-fetched.”

  “Maybe this is what Iona meant, when she suggested we think about it from a more symbolic angle,” Mac Roth replied. He began ticking off his fingers. “A deadly weapon that can kill an Amandán outright. One that is in yer possession. And ‘twas created by a De Danaan and a mortal. In a matter of speaking.”

  “Perhaps.” Gideon thought for a moment. “But I would rather she not know about all this, just yet.”

  “Distrustful of her still, are ye?”

  “Always. Me instincts tell me to wait before we inform her. Agreed?”

  “All right, Lir,” Mac Roth said, reluctantly. “For now.”

  “Uh, what are you guys talking about?” Finn winced when the master pulled the cloth tight and knotted it.

  “Put the clues together, boyo.”

  “The clues to what?”

  “To the identity of Gideon’s Spear, ye thickheaded apprentice.” Gideon rapped his knuckles against Finn’s skull with an affectionate thunk.

  “But I told you, I don’t have the Spear.” Finn rubbed his head.

  The Knight rolled his eyes as Mac Roth tried to smother his laughter in his beard. Finn’s face reddened in indignation. Before the boy could protest, Gideon placed both hands on his shoulders and gave him an affectionate shake.

  “Finnegan MacCullen. Are ye not half mortal, half Tuatha De Danaan?”

  “Well, yeah, but—”

  “And are ye not my apprentice?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “And did ye not destroy that Amandán with yer bare hands, covered in yer blood?”

  “I guess. But what does that have to do with…” Finn froze in mid-sentence. His eyes and mouth formed perfect O’s. “And the light dawns.”

  “I-I-I’m Gideon’s Spear?” Finn’s voice cracked as he stammered. “But…but I’m a halfer.”

  “No, you’re a Tuatha De Danaan. In every sense of the word.” Gideon smiled at his apprentice. “We’ll speak more about this later. For now…” He turned to Rafe and Savannah. “I’m not sure how to explain to ye who and what we are.” He added, after a moment, “Nor to yer parents.”

  “Finn told us a little,” Rafe said. “But maybe you should start at the beginning.”

  Finn laughed. “It’s a long story.”

  “It’s a long walk back,” Savannah pointed out, still holding her club. She took a position between Finn and Rafe as they followed Mac Roth single-file down the path, the giant already expounding on the history of the Tuatha De Danaan. Gideon fell in behind them, on the heels of his apprentice.

  As they made their way through the woods, he noticed Finn wincing as he tried to hold his knife, first in one injured hand, then the other. “Put yer weapon away, boyo.” As Finn paused to slip it into the ankle sheath, Gideon added. “I’ll guard yer back.”

  Thirty-Two

  Finn spun the basketball in his hands as he slouched on a beanbag in the corner of Rafe’s bedroom. He tried to balance it on the tip of a finger, then gave up. Making a face, he tossed it over to Savannah, sitting cross-legged on the bed.

  “Do you think you made the right decision?” he asked Rafe, who was working at his desk. A twinge of envy snaked through Finn as he stared at his friend’s laptop, but he pushed the feeling aside. “Not telling your parents about what happened yesterday?”

  “I do,” Rafe said, scrolling through his e-mail. “I mean, we’re fine, and Mr. Lir made sure we got home okay, so no harm, no foul. And anyway, I can see me trying to explain to Mom and Dad about these monsters that wanted to chow down on Savannah and me. Or that we were saved by our neighbors, who happen to be these not-really-human-but-close-enough magical Irish warriors.” He snorted. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

  “Are you still going to ask your grandf
ather about Padraic O’Brien? See if he’s a De Danaan, too?” Finn looked over just in time to catch Savannah’s return toss of the basketball.

  “Yeah, as soon as I can figure out a way to do it without sounding crazy.”

  “Good luck with that.” Finn sent the ball back to Savannah. “I better get home. Gideon and I are going out hunting again this evening, when he gets back from the farmer’s market.”

  “Farmer’s market?” Rafe asked.

  “Yeah, potatoes are a lot cheaper there.” Finn sighed. “And we eat a lot of them.” He rolled to his feet and started for the door. He glanced back at the sound of Savannah’s voice.

  “Hey, Finn?” She grinned, her dimples deepening. “Thanks again. For what you did for us.”

  A tingle shot through his stomach at her smile. He blushed when Rafe made a gagging sound. Without a word, he smiled back and left.

  Still wearing a loopy grin, Finn ambled home. I’ve got to figure out how to protect them, he thought. Since they’ve become prey, too. It’d be a lot easier if their parents knew, but I’m not sure they could handle the truth about us De Danaan. At least, not yet.

  He began humming, breaking into song after a few steps. “Fire in the head-—I’m a flame in motion,” he sang. “Fire in the head—I’m a sword that’s sharp. Fire in the head—I’m a drop in the ocean, a shield in battle and a string in a harp”

  Halfway across the street, his voice died away. He slowed and squinted into the late afternoon sun. A sedan was parked in front of their house and there was no sign of Gideon’s truck in the driveway. As he reached the other side, the driver’s door opened. A young woman in a navy suit, her brown hair pulled back in a clip, climbed out. A file folder was tucked under one arm.

  “Hello. Are you Finnegan MacCullen?”

  “Yeah.” Finn edged around the car and took a stance by the front gate. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Ms. Ubarri, from the Department of Human Services.” She walked closer, halting a few feet away from Finn. An identification badge dangled from her lapel. She glanced at the empty driveway. “May I ask you a few questions?” Her eyes traveled over his face and bare arms as if looking for something. She seemed disappointed.