Finn's Choice

by Darby Karchut

  “A fine evening to ye,” Gideon called. “And how is yer lovely wife? And the bairns?”

  Another figure joined Rufus. Tall, slender, and with ebony skin, high cheekbones, and a natural grace that always reminded Finn of a queen, Susanna Steel joined her husband. In the porch light, the knife in her hand flashed with bronze flame. For a split second, Finn marveled at the manner in which she held it. Not like the surgeon she was, but rather like a warrior who had been trained to hunt.

  “Hello, Gideon. Finn.” Susanna Steel’s voice held the rhythmic cadence of South Africa. “Have you had dinner yet? And would you care to join us this evening? Once we’re finished with these pests, of course.”

  “Why, we’d be delighted, madam. Finn, go along and—”

  At that moment, both goblins charged. Finn stumbled backwards a step, but caught himself in time to slash at the paws reaching for his head. Howling from the burn of the bronze weapon, the goblin charged again. This time, Finn nailed it in the chest with both blades. He yanked them out as the Amandán disintegrated.

  A few yards away, Gideon stood over the remaining goblin cowering on the ground. The tip of his knife was less than an inch from the goblin’s nose. “Tell yer pack that this family is well protected by me and mine. And that yer belief that we Tuatha De Danaan were part of the sorceress Iona’s underhanded dealings with ye is wrong.” He kicked out a booted foot. “Now, flee. Before I weary of yer ugly mug and decided to use this blade to improve it.”

  Mouth agape with fear, the goblin slunk past the Knight; once clear, it bolted to the far side of the house and disappeared. Gideon followed, watching from the corner. After a moment, he nodded in satisfaction and returned. “Surprising how swiftly those beasties can run on all fours.”

  “Bleh!” Finn spat to one side; the taste of Amandán was worse than its smell. He swiped at his watering eyes. “Why did you let that one go? Do you really think the others are going to believe what you said?”

  “Probably not. But I wanted to plant a seed of doubt.” He eyed Finn as he walked closer and pulled out a handkerchief from his back pocket. “Let me.” He started to wipe Finn’s face.

  “Don’t!” Aware of Rafe and Savannah joining their parents on the patio, his friend with a spear in his hand, Finn jerked his head back. “Sheesh, Gideon.” He snatched the cloth from his master’s hand. “When are you going to stop treating me like a first-month apprentice?” He cleaned his face with savage swipes. He knew his tone and actions were borderline disrespectful. But, come on! In front of everyone? Really?

  Gideon raised an eyebrow, then leaned in, crowding Finn’s personal space. Finn tensed.

  “Sorry. I didn’t quite catch that.” His master’s tone was flat and low and made Finn gulp. “Did you say, ‘why, Gideon, thank you for being so solicitous about my well-being? And may I compliment you on the skill and boldness you just displayed in battle?’ At which time, Finnegan MacCullen, I would thank you for your gracious words.” He leaned even closer. “Instead of offering a clip on the ear to a cheeky apprentice who has only been with me for five months.”

  Finn swallowed around a dry mouth. “Um…you did good, Gideon.” He pasted on the most innocent expression he could manage. “And I’m cool, thanks for asking.” He grinned sheepishly when Gideon cuffed him on the head.

  “That’s what I thought you said.” Sheathing his weapon, he walked over to speak with Rufus and Susanna Steel.

  Making a face after he was sure Gideon’s back was turned, Finn brightened when his friends edged around their parents and joined him. He nodded at the spear in Rafe’s hand. “You should’ve loaned that to your dad.”

  “I tried.” Rafe’s dark skin contrasted with his white T-shirt adorned with a faded picture of Albert Einstein. He planted the thick, wooden haft of the assegai against the ground and twirled it around. Its broad, leaf-shaped blade winked with an orange flicker. “But he wanted to try an experiment. Too bad he didn’t get the chance.”

  “What experiment?”

  “Dad and I came up with the idea of using bronze shot in his gun. Thought it might work on the Amandán.”

  Finn scratched his head. Why haven’t we tried anything like that? I mean, we’ve known about gunpowder since humans brought it from China to Europe. I wonder if Mac Roth knows—

  “Hey, Finn?” Savannah interrupted his thoughts. “Do you think Gideon’s got an extra knife he could loan my mom? Otherwise, me and Mom are going to be arguing who gets to carry mine.” She grinned, her dimples making Finn’s pulse pick up speed again. He forgot about Rafe’s gun idea. For a moment, he found himself studying the way her eyelashes curled almost completely around. He blinked when she reached over and snapped her fingers in front of his nose.

  “Sorry.” Finn shook his head. “What?”

  “I said, why do you think those orc wannabes decided to attack us? I thought they were leery of humans.”

  Before Finn could answer, Susanna Steel called to them. “It’s getting chilly out here. Let’s go inside, shall we? Finn, are you hungry?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I hope you like salmon.” She smiled at him in that special way that always made him feel self-conscious and welcomed at the same time.

  Rafe and Savannah are so lucky. He tried not to think about his dead mom and dad, mentally shrugging away the old sorrow. At least I’ve got Gideon. A secret wish, one that he kept well-buried because it made Finn feel like some sniveling little kid, rose to the surface before he could stomp it back down. The wish that somehow, he and Gideon were family. Real family.

  After Gideon and Finn dusted themselves clean with a whisk broom and a vigorous shaking of jackets, they all gathered in the kitchen. Finn took a seat between Rafe and Savannah. In spite of the Scáthach’s visit and the subsequent fight with the Amandán, his mouth watered at the aroma of grilled salmon. A warrior eats when he can, he recalled the Knight telling him just last month. He loaded his plate with a thick fillet and wild rice, selected enough asparagus to keep his master off his back, then dug in. Chewing, he listened as Gideon told Rufus and Susanna about the goddess and the trials.

  “Now, in addition to the troubles with the goddess,” Gideon added, “the Amandán have declared war on you and your children in retaliation for your help this summer.” He looked at Susanna, then Rufus. “And, even though I will be preparing Finn for the trials, I promise to protect your family. In fact, I’ve already set a plan in motion to help me do so.”

  “Gideon, I don’t think we need—” Rufus began.

  “But I do.” Susanna placed a hand on his arm, interrupting her husband. “What do you have in mind, Gideon?”

  “It is fortunate that two unrelated events have come together at the same time. Kel O’Shea has offered to help us both guard you and keep the number of goblins in this area under control.” Gideon paused and glanced at Finn with an odd, almost apologetic, expression. “And, with our neighbor moving away, it provides a place for the Knight and her apprentice to live. They will be renting Mrs. Martinez’s home. For now.”

  Finn spewed water and a few kernels of rice. “What?” he croaked. Drying his chin, he stared at his master in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice rose to an awkward level.

  “Because I had just returned from Mac Roth, who has been the coordinator behind much of this. I dinna have time to tell you, since we’ve been a wee bit preoccupied this last hour.”

  Like that’s a reason, Finn thought. As the adults continued their discussion, he pushed his plate away, appetite gone, and slumped back in his chair. My life stinks like wet goblin.

  Savannah leaned over, her shoulder pressing against his. “Finn, I know you’re worried about the Sca-thee. The Sky-ha. However you say her name.”

  “Ska-ha,” Finn supplied, vaguely wondering why he even cared.

  “Ska-ha,” she repeated. “But like we said when you came back from the Festival, we’ve got your back in this. Fellow warriors, remember?” She tapp
ed the woven lion’s-hair bracelet on his wrist, a match to the ones she and Rafe wore. Her grandfather had given all three of them the traditional Zulu symbols of bravery in commemoration of their victory over the Amandán. Then, she squeezed his hand, holding it long enough for Finn to wish she would never let go. When she did, he almost reached for it again. He jumped when Rafe nudged him in the ribs.

  “Knight O’Shea was the one from the Festival, right?” Rafe asked. “The one with apprentice what’s-her-name? The one that doesn’t like you and Lochlan much?”

  “Tara Butler.” The thought of living next door to Tara and her master, even temporarily, made Finn wish that the Scáthach had taken him after all. “It gets worse.”

  “How could it?”

  Keeping one eye on the adults still deep in discussion, and with the twins leaning in from both sides, Finn explained in a low voice about the attraction between Gideon and Kel O’Shea.

  “You’re right,” Rafe said. “It’s worse.”

  Finn nodded. “Talk about awkward.”

  “No kidding. I mean, we practically gag whenever Mom and Dad get all smoochy in front of us. It’s got to be worse when it’s… you know.” Rafe pointed at the adult end of the table.

  “Really, guys? You can’t handle a little romance?” Savannah said with a superior tone. “So what if Mr. Lir and another Knight like each other as more than friends? They’re entitled, you know.”

  “But…but…” Finn sputtered like their truck starting up on a cold winter morning. “It’s Gideon! He’s not supposed to…to…”

  “To what? Be happy? Have a friend?” Savannah pressed him. “Find love after all these years?” She sighed. “I think it’s romantic.”

  “I think it’s weird,” Rafe said.

  I don’t know what I think, Finn mused.

  The Journal of Finnegan MacCullen: Tuesday, October 15

  I really thought I would have more time. I mean, it’s only been three weeks since the Festival. I guess the Scáthach’s on a tight schedule, screwing up people’s lives, that sort of thing.

  Talk about a tight schedule? Yeah, here’s mine:

  1. I have to figure out how to command the elements, starting with fire. In nine days. No pressure there.

  2. I have to keep Rafe and Savannah and their parents alive in the meantime.

  3. I have to learn how to avoid Tara Butler.

  4. I have to work with Iona of the Hills.

  With a sigh, Finn closed his journal and tossed it on the coffee table. He slumped deeper into the worn, leather sofa, propped his feet on the table, and let his head drop back. He watched the firelight as it flickered along the ceiling; the scent of burning wood blessed the room as it popped and crackled away with a joyful sound. Rolling his head, he gazed at the flames. I wonder what it would feel like to control fire.

  In a nearby chair, Gideon peered over the top of the book he had been reading. “Now, that is a surprise.”

  “What is?”

  The Knight nodded toward the journal on the table. “I thought I would be nagging you day after day to write in that. Yet you seem to enjoy the task.”

  I do, but how’d he know that? “It’s okay.” He shifted on the sofa, uncomfortable with the admission. “Kind of fun to record all the craziness we go through. I mean, when there’s nothing else to do.”

  “Well, perhaps, one day, you would want to write your own tale.”

  Finn blinked. “You mean like a book?” Me? Write a book?

  “Certainly. You mentioned to me just recently you wondered what you were good at, besides hunting. Not that you’re that fine a hunter, mind you.” A corner of Gideon’s mouth twitched. “Perhaps your gift is of a literary nature. You would be following in the footsteps of many an Irish novelist and poet and playwright. Storytelling in our blood, you might say.”

  “Warrior bards?”

  “That’s right.”

  Hmm. I wonder what I would write about? Not sure what to say, Finn simply nodded. Something that had been bothering him all day rose to the surface. “Hey, Gideon?”

  “Aye, lad?”

  “The Scáthach. She’s a goddess, right? So, she can do anything she wants?”

  “Ah.” Gideon laid his book on his lap. “You are wondering if she is omnipotent. That means all powerful.” He shook his head. “The Scáthach, while a formidable goddess, is a goddess of this world and is mostly bound to the laws of this world. Mostly.”

  “Like we are? I mean, we can do stuff humans can’t, because of the Song and the warp spasm, but there’s a lot of things we can’t do, right?”

  “Aye, that’s right. There are limits and constraints on her abilities. For example, while she can move swiftly in her chariot of clouds, it does take her time to move from place to place. And, while her spear and her bow and arrows are magically enhanced, she can be fought weapon-to-weapon. And, to be sure, the Goddess Danu gave us the Song. The Scáthach finds that not at all to her liking, for Danu is a much more powerful goddess, and we are Her children.”

  Finn thought for a moment. “It’s like the Scáthach is a goddess with a lowercase g.”

  Gideon grunted in surprise. “A novel way to explain it, but yes, you have the general idea.” He glanced out the front windows. “’Tis late. To bed with ye, boyo. We’ve a stout day ahead of us.”

  Three

  While standing at the counter the next morning, Finn crunched his way through a bowl of Lucky Charms, one eye on the kitchen window and the storm clouds piling up over the foothills to the west. Tilting the cereal bowl, he gulped the last of the milk, then wiped his mouth clean on the sleeve of his old hoodie as he placed his dish in the sink. He noticed the sleeves were too short—his wrists stuck out of them.

  The growl of an engine echoed faintly. “Finn!” Gideon called him from the living room. “They’re here.”

  Finn joined him. Waiting by the front door, his master was dressed in his oldest jeans and an old flannel shirt with the elbows worn clean through. “Kel O’Shea?”

  “Not yet. Mac Roth with Lochlan.”

  “Good.” Thinking of his other best friend and fellow apprentice, Lochlan O’Neill, Finn grinned. “Safety in numbers, you know.” As Gideon’s expression, he explained. “Against Tara.”

  “You two growing boys are fearful of a mere slip of a girl?”

  “She’s got a bow. And she’s already threatened to shoot me in the butt once. Well, twice. Each buttock.”

  “When did she threaten you?”

  “At the Festival. She thought we had put her master in danger. Like, on purpose.”

  “Should I be worried?”

  “I wouldn’t turn my back if I were you.”

  Gideon grunted. “Well, you best find a way to live side by side with young Tara. For my part, I am looking forward to having her and Knight O’Shea as neighbors.”

  That’s because you like Kel O’Shea, Finn thought. He sighed.

  At the sound of heavy boots punishing the front steps, Gideon opened the door. A large man, a head taller than Gideon, and with a strength and way of moving that always reminded Finn of a bear, filled the doorway. His wild mane of red hair was the same shade as his beard. A boy about Finn’s age, and with the same growth-spurt awkward build as Finn, stood half-hidden behind him.

  “A chilly morning, Lir. Say, do we have time for a cuppa?” Mac Roth’s voice boomed. He glanced past the Knight’s shoulder, hope on his face. “For they’ve not yet arrived.”

  “Fáilte, old friend.” Gideon stepped aside. “To be sure, the kettle is still warm.”

  As the Knights disappeared into the kitchen, Finn bumped fists with the other boy. “Hey, Lochlan.”

  “Hey.” Lochlan O’Neill’s blond hair, the signature mark of the O’Neill clan, was a bright contrast with the gray day. The apprentice opened his mouth and demonstrated the other signature mark of the O’Neill clan. “Dude. You have the worst luck.”

  “You mean because of Tara moving in next door? Don’t
remind me.”

  Finn started to close the door behind Lochlan when a car horn beeped. He and Lochlan stepped outside in time to wave at Dr. Steel. In the back seat of her Volvo station wagon, he could see Savannah waving back. As the car rolled along, she powered down her window and pulled off her headphones.

  “Finn, I forgot to tell you last night,” she called. “We’ve got a half-day at school because of teacher meetings. We’ll come over and help after lunch.”

  “Great!” Finn and Lochlan yelled back at the same time. For some reason, Finn wanted to tell Lochlan to shut up. She wasn’t talking to you.

  Rafe’s head appeared next to hers as he crowded his sister. “Hey, Finn? Try not to get shot.” He glanced at the front seat and the back of his mother’s head, then mouthed the words in the butt. He grinned as the car drove off.

  Finn watched the car until it turned the corner and disappeared. He noticed Lochlan was watching, too. “I don’t think she’s that into you,” he blurted out. “At least, not in that way.”

  “Really? Because I was just going to say the same thing to you.” Lochlan turned and faced him. His mouth curled into a fake half-smile that never reached his eyes.

  Suddenly, the cold day seemed colder. Their breath smoked between them like dragons. Something ugly and vile-tasting bubbled up from Finn’s gut. It seemed to swell and push the blood into his face and common sense out of his skull. “How do you know?”

  “She told me.”

  The porch seemed to drop beneath Finn’s feet. “W-when?”

  “Oh, a few days ago.” Lochlan tried not to gloat, and failed. “When we were texting back and forth, and the subject came up.”

  A jealousy pure and cold, like an emerald gem, filled Finn. The thought of Lochlan and Savannah, both wealthy enough to afford cell phones and sending messages to each other—messages about him, no less—made him want to punch somebody… Anybody. Lochlan would do just fine.

  His anger spiked when he recalled begging Gideon to buy him a cell phone.

  “Don’t we have any money left over from that gold nugget?” Finn had asked. “I mean, the phone doesn’t have to be super fancy or anything.”