Gideon's Spear

by Darby Karchut

  “Mee-lee pap?”

  “Yeah. It’s like a cornmeal porridge you serve with meat. It’s a traditional South African dish. She said it was one of her favorites growing up there.”

  Gideon’s face darkened. “They’re checking up on you, aren’t they?” He pointed his fork at Finn’s hands wrapped in fresh bandages. “And that’s just the sort of damage that will send Rufus and Susanna Steel racing each other to the phone to call Human Services on me again.”

  Finn swallowed another mouthful. “I wish we could just tell them the truth. That all my injuries are from training and hunting.” He looked up at his master. “I don’t like them thinking that about you.”

  “Nor do I. But we cannot control others’ thoughts about us. All we can and should worry about are our own actions.” He took a sip of tea. “However, I cannot fault their motivation. It is decent of them to show concern for a neighbor boy.”

  Finn nodded absently. A horrible thought crowded his mind. He tried to ignore it by taking a gulp of juice, but the thought wouldn’t stop poking at him. He peered across the table. Almost afraid to ask. Afraid not to ask.

  “Hey, Gideon? What would happen to me if…”

  “If what?”

  “If you got…you know. On a hunt or something.” Finn made a vague movement with one hand.

  “If I what?”

  “Got hurt…or…or…killed.” Saying the words aloud made the hairs on his arms stand at attention.

  “Oh, I see.” Gideon nodded in understanding. “I should have spoken with you weeks ago about this, but I didn’t want to stir up memories of your parents.”

  “‘S’kay—they died a long time ago.” He shifted in the chair. “So?” he said, returning to the subject at hand.

  “Well, now, if something were to happen to me, Mac Roth stands ready to apprentice you. As I stood ready with young Asher, and as I will with Lochlan.” He picked up the mug and studied Finn over the rim. “Worried about it, were you?”

  Finn shrugged.

  The telephone rang. As Gideon rose to answer it, Finn fingered the torc around his neck. I wonder if my mom and dad would be proud of me. I think they would. I hope so.

  “Right. I’ll be there directly.” Gideon hung up the phone. “Mac Roth’s Jeep’s battery is dead. He needs a jump. While I’m gone, you’re to wash the dishes…”

  “Gee, what a surprise there,” he muttered under his breath.

  Gideon ignored him. “And then thirty minutes of target practice with both knife and dagger.”

  Finn made a face. “Boooring.” After a moment, he brightened. “How about instead I practice on the stabbing dummy? I bet Rafe would come over and run it for me.”

  “Out of a dozen throws, how many times can you hit the bullseye?”

  “Seven.”

  Gideon raised an eyebrow.

  “Two?”

  Another eyebrow went up.

  “Fine.” Finn grumbled to his dirty plate. “Looks like I’ll be doing target practice.”

  “Aye, it does.” Gideon checked his pocket for the keys. “Do not leave the yard for any reason or you’ll be spending the rest of your long apprenticeship tied to a short leash.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Finn followed his master out the front door and around to the driveway. He helped him load his tools and extra jumper cables into the bed of the truck. With a nod of thanks, Gideon clambered into the cab and drove away in a cloud of blue smoke, the engine rumbling in protest.

  “Hey, Finn,” called a voice.

  He squinted into the morning sun as he looked across the street. A smile spread across his face at the sight of Rafe Steel, walking toward him.

  “What happened?” Rafe pointed to Finn’s bandages.

  “Hunting accident.” Finn’s eyes widened as he noticed the object in the other boy’s hand. “What are you doing with that?”

  “I was going to go into the woods behind your house to work with it.” Rafe held up a short spear with a long leaf-shaped head. “My grandfather taught me some basic moves with it. I want to practice them so I don’t forget. I want to be ready in case we ever run into more of those Amandán,” he said, referring to fighting side-by-side last month with Finn and Savannah against the goblins.

  “What happened to all those beads that were on the handle?”

  “I took them off. Now it looks like a real Zulu assegai.”

  “Whoa. What did you call it?”

  “Ass-a-guy.”

  I will not laugh. Rafe is my best friend, and you don’t laugh at your best friend. I. Will. Not. Laugh. Finn bit down on the inside of his lip.

  Jabbing the tip of the spear at a clump of grass growing at the base of the wall, Rafe continued. “Yup—it’s called an assegai. Weird name, don’t you think? I wonder what ‘assegai’ means?”

  Finn bit harder. His eyes began to water.

  “Assegai,” Rafe repeated, making sure to enunciate each syllable.

  “Dude, shut up,” Finn choked. He gave up and started laughing.

  Rafe joined him, teeth flashing white against his dark skin. “And my work here is done.”

  Catching his breath, Finn held out his hand for the spear. He slid his hand along the wooden shaft, admiring its craftsmanship before hefting it a few times, then testing a thumb on its bronze blade. “You need to sharpen it. Come in and I’ll show you how to use a whetstone.”

  Rafe glanced back at his house, brows drawn together. “Savannah and I aren’t allowed to come over anymore.”

  “Because of what your parents think about Gideon?”

  “Yeah. They don’t want us anywhere near him.” He shook his head. “And I don’t know how to tell them what really happened. That you guys saved us from those Amandán last month.”

  Finn thought for a moment. “Well, you shouldn’t be out in the woods by yourself. Gideon thinks you and your sister are on the Amandán’s hit list, too.”

  “All the more reason I should learn how to defend myself.”

  “What—you’re planning on carrying an African spear around all the time?”

  Rafe shrugged. “It’s the only bronze weapon I’ve got.”

  “Listen, I’ll loan you a knife and even ask Gideon to teach you how to use it. That way, you can carry it under your shirt when you run with your dad on the trails each morning. Better than nothing.”

  “You sure?”

  “We’ve got lots. Plus, Gideon has a bunch more stored in the basement. Come on, I’ll get you one.” When Rafe hesitated, he added. “Look, he’s over at Mac Roth’s, if that helps.”

  “All right. But make it fast before my folks find out I’m over here.” The boys headed through the front gate, its wrought-iron pickets spiderwebbed with bronze wire. An earthy-peppery scent drifted over them from the sláinte nettle hedge spanning the north side of the yard.

  “Hey, wait up. I’m coming, too.”

  They turned around at the sound of a girl’s voice. Savannah jogged toward them, her lanky build a duplicate of her twin brother’s. Her shoulder-length curls were held back from her face with a headband. As she approached, she smiled a hello, dimples deepening. Finn found himself answering with a loopy grin of his own.

  “Go away,” Rafe said, slamming the gate with a clang before she could enter. “This is guy stuff.”

  “So why are you doing it?” She yanked the gate from his clutches, swung it open with another clang, and marched through.

  “You know, she probably should be armed, too.” Finn reached around her to close the gate. He caught a whiff of something flowery or vanilla-y, he wasn’t quite sure. “She’s as much a target as we are. I say we let her come along.”

  “She doesn’t need your permission to come along or not. And she doesn’t like being talked about in the third person.” Savannah pushed between them and strolled around the side of the house to the back yard.

  The boys looked at each for a moment. “Guess she told us,” Finn said. Grinning at each other, they
followed in her wake, sashaying along as they mimicked her walk.

  Unaware of the crow perched on the roof of Gideon’s house.

  Seven

  “Oh, wow.” Savannah looked around the yard at the various training implements. A target was nailed to the side of the house, its red and blue circles almost worn invisible from thousands of knife throws. In one corner, a punching bag hung from a tree. “What’s that thing?” she asked, pointing at the twin posts stuck in the middle of the yard. A burlap sack dangled from a cable stretched between them. Balled-up newspaper peeked out from several rents in the fabric.

  “Practice dummy. You try stabbing it while another person pulls on the rope to make it move around.”

  “Looks like fun.” Walking closer, she tugged on the guy rope, jiggling the bag. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you something. Are there any Tuatha De Danaan women hunters? Or is it just the men?”

  “A few. Traditionally, it’s mostly the men. But my mom was a pretty good hunter, even though she was half mortal. At least, that’s what my aunt and uncle told me.”

  “Is that how she died?”

  “Rafe, don’t ask him that,” Savannah hissed under her breath.

  “No, it’s okay,” Finn said. “Yeah. She got killed on a hunt with my dad when I was five. I…um…I better get you those knives,” he said, glad to escape further questions.

  Once inside, he headed toward the living room to the weapons rack. Taking a stance in front of the stone fireplace, he chewed on the inside of his cheek as he studied the various blades. He dismissed the long dagger hanging dead center in a place of honor. It sported a deer antler handle, and a swirling pattern was etched along its blade. Nah, too big; anyway, it’s Gideon’s prized favorite. After a long minute, he selected two smaller knives with simple handles. Okay, they should be able to keep these hidden under their clothes. He turned to leave when his eyes fell on Gideon’s journal lying open on the desk.

  For a moment, he stood frozen in the middle of the room. He craned his neck as he tried to see if he could spot his name on either page. I wonder what he writes in it. Hmmm—he wouldn’t know if I just sneaked a look. I mean, it’s not my fault he left it open. When he inched closer, he noticed the lower half of what looked like an old-fashioned postcard, hand-painted and wrapped in plastic, sticking out between the last page and the back cover. He started to reach for the picture.

  A shout of warning, followed by a scream, rent the air.

  “Oh, crap.” Racing across the house with the knives still clutched in one hand, he burst through the back door. A crow hovered overhead. Its caw-caw scratched at his ears.

  Still standing by the posts, the twins stared across the yard. An Amandán peered over the back wall at them, its muzzle dripping saliva. It snarled when it spotted Finn closing in.

  “You better get your ugly face out of here, or else.” Finn took a stand between his friends and the goblin.

  “Or else what?”

  “Or else I improve it by sticking a knife between your eyes.”

  “Why not just cuts your hands and poison me with your blood? Like you did to me mates?” It glared at him through piggy eyes.

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  The goblin spat at him. “Bah. The sooner we kills you, the better. And your friends, too.” It smacked its lips. “I likes me a side dish or two.”

  “Ye dinna have the luck last night, now, did ye?” Finn fired back, trying to mimic his master’s arrogant tone.

  The Amandán started to answer when it pricked its ears up at the growl of an engine. Snapping its teeth in frustration, it slunk behind the wall and crashed away through the underbrush filling the ravine. As the three youths looked at each other, a vehicle pulled into the driveway; a door slammed closed with a squeal a moment later.

  “We better go,” Rafe said. He pushed his sister toward the side of the house.

  “Here, take these.” Finn handed the knives over. “At least you’ll be armed. Remember what I told you about fighting the Amandán?”

  “Keep your back to a wall or tree,” Rafe said.

  “Stick them with the sharp end,” Savannah added.

  “And hold tight to your weapon,” said a deep voice. The back screen slapped open. Gideon sauntered out, thumbs tucked in his jeans pockets. He nodded at the blades in their hands. “I take it those are mine?”

  The friends looked at each other in alarm. Finn braced himself. “It was my idea. I wanted them to have—”

  With a wave of dismissal, Gideon walked closer. “It was the right thing to do.”

  “By the way, an Amandán was just here a minute ago. On the other side of the wall.”

  Gideon stiffened. “Did it try anything?”

  “No, sir, it just made a lot of threats. It took off when it heard your truck.”

  “Curious. They are normally skittish around humans in groups.” The Knight grunted, gazing into the woods beyond. After a moment, he asked the twins. “Do you know how to use a knife?” They shook their heads. “Would you like me to teach you, then?”

  Rafe and Savannah glanced at each other. A silent conversation flowed between them. Then Savannah cleared her throat.

  “Mr. Lir? You should know that our parents don’t want us around you. In fact, we’re not even supposed to be over here.”

  “Ah, I see.” A shadow flickered across his face. “And I can guess why.” He studied them. “So, tell me, lass. Do you think I’m a monster to young Finn here?”

  “Nope.” Trust shone in Savannah’s dark eyes.

  “And do you think it is wise to disobey your parents?”

  “No.” Rafe glanced around the yard. “But we need to learn this stuff. And we can’t learn it by ourselves.”

  “You can teach them in secret,” Finn said. “When Mr. and Mrs. Steel aren’t around.”

  “I cannot. To do so would not only be dishonest, it would not be respecting their parents’ wishes. So you two best return home.”

  “Ah, come on, Gideon,” Finn argued. “Mrs. Steel’s at the hospital all the time doing her doctor thing, and Mr. Steel is teaching some seminar for the next two weeks at the college. They wouldn’t even know.”

  “I would know. And so would the three of you.”

  “You could just teach them—”

  “No.”

  “—the basics so that they could defend themselves.”

  “No.”

  “It would only be for a few weeks, then they’d be able to—”

  “I said, no.”

  “You’re not even listening to me.” Finn’s voice rose in frustration.

  “No, you’re not listening to me!” Gideon snapped, just as frustrated. A muscle danced in his jaw. “Continue arguing, and you’ll find yourself spending the day in your room.”

  Embarrassment at being slapped down in front of his friends made Finn’s cheeks burn. “You just don’t want me hanging out with them because they’re mortal.” Chin jutting out, he squared up to his master and locked gazes.

  “Oh, so now you’re putting words in my mouth?” Gideon fired back.

  Brother and sister froze in surprise at both their tones and the abrupt flare-up of tempers. Tugging on her brother’s arm, Savannah inched toward the side gate. “Maybe we better leave,” she said.

  “Let go—I want to watch.” Rafe shook free. “I think this is that warp spasm thing Finn told us about.”

  “Boys are sick.” Savannah grabbed his arm again and yanked. “Come on, Rafe!” He followed reluctantly. “See you tonight, Finn.” Both Tuatha De Danaan, locked in a silent battle of wills, ignored the twins as they disappeared.

  “You don’t even care if they get killed or not,” Finn spat. A corner of his brain screamed at him to shut up. He ignored it.

  “Best rein in that temper, Finnegan MacCullen. I’ll not have my apprentice speak that way to me when…”

  “Gee, I’m surprised you didn’t take their knives away and throw the twins over the fence to the Aman
dán.”

  Gideon’s eyes narrowed. “A tempting idea. But it wouldn’t be them I’d be pitching over the wall.”

  Finn sneered a challenge. “Right. Like you would.”

  Bad mistake.

  Gideon lunged for him. With a squawk, Finn darted to one side and bolted for the sanctuary of the house, the Knight on his heels. He jerked to a halt when Gideon snagged him by the hem of his shirt.

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” Reeling him backward, he grabbed Finn by the arm and pulled him around until they stood face to face. “Now here it is, a grand, fine summer morning, and the two of us are already butting heads like a pair of billy goats. Why is that?”

  A dozen reasons pinged around the inside of Finn’s head. Because one minute you’re on my case to be this perfect warrior. Then the next minute you treat me like I’m a baby. You won’t help Rafe and Savannah. And then there’s the whole “hey, surprise, you’re a mythical weapon of legend” thing. He tightened his lips and said nothing, his face sullen. He won’t understand.

  Gideon’s own face suddenly softened. “Been a bit of a rough spell, eh? What with the discovery of you being the Spear and all.”

  Finn gawked in surprise at the sympathy in his master’s voice. He nodded and looked away. “Yes, sir. I guess.”

  “Aye, for me, too,” Gideon said, almost to himself. He glanced around the yard, his gaze taking in the training apparatuses and the woods beyond.

  “I know, I know.” Finn sighed. “Target practice, then get my chores done.”

  Gideon’s mouth twitched at the note of self-pity. “First I want to have a look at your hands. In fact, I should have done so earlier. Come along.” He led the way into the house.

  Inside, Finn took a seat at the table that was still covered with breakfast dishes. Pushing a plate to one side, he waited as Gideon fetched some clean cloths and a large bowl of sláinte nettle potion. Finn wrinkled his nose as its pungent scent fought with the leftover smell of buttered toast. Not a good combination.

  Using the tip of his hunting knife, the Knight loosened the knots on the bandages and unwrapped one hand, then the other. Master and apprentice leaned over to peer more closely.