Finn's Choice (18 page)

He tensed when the dark mist closed in, wrapping damp, cold arms around him in a tight squeeze. With a jerk, he could feel himself rise, swinging from side to side. His stomach swooped.

Then, a red flash out of the corner of his eyes. It burst like a firecracker in a hot July night, swelling larger and larger until the reddish glow filled his vision.

WHAM
! The fireball hit the side of the cloud, lighting up the area. He spotted a dim figure through the fog—for a moment he heard a voice calling his name. With a violent jolt, the cloud changed direction. Finn flipped around, like a sock in a dryer.

The tumbling seemed to go on forever. Finally, it slowed. He
staggered as his feet landed on something solid. A pale light, like that of a moonstone, grew around him, as did a low wheezing, rhythmic hiss. For a split second, Finn felt nauseous. Like he had just ridden on a rollercoaster and had stepped off. Or maybe it was the odd smell of water and something else. He tasted salt on his lips. The light grew brighter as the fog lifted.

He was standing by himself on the top of a hill under a full moon, its face veiled by wisps of clouds. A cool, moist wind ruffled his hair and sent the grass rippling around his feet. All around him was a mix of enormous flattened limestone slabs, like pieces of giant cracked pavement, the cracks intersected with more tufts of grass determined to make their mark, and low scrub. Some of the limestone slabs were set on edge like tombstones in the world's largest graveyard; they dotted the landscape as far as he could see. At the foot of the hill, a narrow two-lane blacktop ran north and south. But it was the view across the road to the west that made Finn gasp.

The view of an ocean.

Waves hissed ashore as they beat a tune on the beach. Tiny whitecaps dotted the expanse all the way to the horizon. Off the shore, he could make out a low island. A mound swelled up from its flattened center, and its top was crowned with rough stone pillars, massive fingers of a buried giant clawing toward the sky.

I have a feeling I'm not in Colorado anymore, Toto
, he thought.
And when did it go from dusk to full-on night? How long was I tumbling
? Not sure what to do, he started down the gentle slope toward the road.
Making his way around one of the boulders, he stumbled to a stop when he spotted a familiar bush. He reached down and plucked one of the pointed leaves from the hedge, wincing at the prick from a sharp spine. He sniffed it. “
Sláinte
nettle.”

I sometimes miss the sea and wind and wild hills of home
. Gideon's voice whispered in his head. In disbelief, Finn looked around once more at the island and the waves, then knelt and dug his fingers into the sod. A thrill went through him at the touch of the soil.

The wind picked up, coming straight out of the west and bringing more clouds with it. Finn rose and zipped his jacket tight under his chin, nose and tips of ears prickling from the cold. He pulled his knife from his sheath, grateful he still had it.
I better find shelter. Plus, why make it easy for the Scáthach to find me? I wonder if she is going to kill me…

Not knowing what else to do, he continued down the hill. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes from the force of the wind as he went, head swiveling as he kept a watch for the
Scáthach
. He wondered where she was. All the while, dread beat black wings at him.

What if Gideon tried to fight the Scáthach? What if she…
? He shoved
that
thought away.
No way. He's too good a warrior. And he has Mac Roth and Kel O'Shea with him. Those three could take on a goddess. Gideon said she was a goddess of this world and that she can be fought with weapons, plus we've got the Song
. He clung to that thought.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement. Slamming to a halt, he held his breath, weapon raised. Several creatures, four-
legged and with coats a pale hue, hurried past him. A
click
of hoofs on stone. Then, one of them bleated.

“Smooth move, MacCullen,” he muttered. “You almost took out a sheep.” Following the herd, he continued, his breath fogging in front of him.

Suddenly, a shadow flitted across the ground in front of him, as if a giant creature, with too many heads and limbs, had flown between him and the moon. He spun around in a crouch, knife held up to ward off whatever was about to attack. A few yards away, the creature hit the ground, landing heavily on a patch of grass. To Finn's horror, it split in two, the halves tumbling apart. One of the halves rolled over and leaped to its feet. Moonlight flashed red along the blade of a bronze knife as it was pulled free with a ringing warning.

“Ye gods, you call that a landing?”

The sound of Gideon's voice made Finn's knees suddenly buckle. He sank down on the soft sod. The Knight hurried over and knelt down next to him.

“Finn, lad. Are ye all right?”

“Yeah. Just confused as all get-out. What in the world…” His voice trailed off.

The other shape rose more slowly, gasping for breath. In the light of the moon, Finn watched as Griffin staggered over to them, chest heaving.

“Sorry…about…that,” the angel panted, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. “Never done that before—flown that far with a
load. Plus the whole non-mortal thing really dragged me down.” He blew out a long breath. “Mr. Lir? I'm sorry I couldn't stop her. Getting Finn, then you, to this place, was the best I could do.”

Gideon rose and held out his hand. “You did grand. My apologies for speaking sharply to you. Will there be repercussions for your actions?”

The older teen shrugged. “Maybe. But we Terrae Angeli have free will. I chose to exercise mine today.”

“Because of Finn's mortal blood?”

“Mostly.” Griffin looked away, as if remembering something. “But for other reasons, too,” he said softly. “Okay, I better get back. I'll let the other Knights know what happened.”

“And the Steels?” Gideon asked. “You'll continue to watch over them?”

Griffin smiled. For a moment, the air around his head gleamed with a silvery light. “Oh, don't you worry about
them
—Basil and I are one heck of a team. Plus, we've got some back up of our own.” Amusement filled his face and voice.

With a word of farewell and good luck, Griffin turned with his back to the wind, took a couple of running steps, then leaped into the air. With a faint
whoosh
, he disappeared into the night.

Finn glanced at Gideon. Just having his master next to him alleviated half of his fears and all of his nervousness.
We're one heck of a team, too
. “What just happened? And where are we?”

Instead of answering, Gideon tilted his head back and drew in a deep breath. Rain, which had been threatening, began to fall. He
let it wash his face. Then, he ran his hand along the turf, almost a caress, before digging his fingers into the soil, much like Finn had done earlier. Only this time, Gideon scooped up a handful and held it tight in his fist.

“Gideon?” Something in his master's manner confirmed what Finn had thought earlier. “Are we where I think we are?”

“Aye, lad, we are.” Rising, he wiped his hand clean on his jeans, then reached down and pulled Finn to his feet. He swept an arm around, encompassing the hills and the sea and the falling rain. “Welcome home, Finnegan MacCullen, to
Éireann
.”

Finn's eyes widened. “Ireland,” he whispered.

“We best get out of the weather.” Gideon turned and began climbing back up the way Finn had come.

Finn followed, grateful to have the wind and rain at his back instead of in his face. “So are you going to tell me what happened? And why the
Scáthach
isn't here right now, trying to kill us?”

“It appears the goddess had caught a whiff of Iona's magic on you. She hunted down the sorceress, who has about as much courage and fortitude as an earthworm, and forced Iona to betray us. Lucky for us, Griffin was still nearby. He said that he became aware of the goddess' approach and hurried back to help you.”

“
Me
. Not all of you, as well?”

“From what the angel told me, his powers are to be used only to help mortals. While he can choose to help others, like bringing me here, it is at a great cost to him. You saw how weary he was. He doubted that he can make another trip.”

“So, how are we going to get home, then? Back to Colorado?”

“One step at a time. Let us first survive
this
adventure.”

“How did we end up here, anyway?”

“Although we could not stop the
Scáthach
from commanding her Shadow to capture you, Mac Roth and Kel O'Shea were able to keep her occupied long enough for me to direct Griffin to bring you here.”

“Why here?”

“Because it is the very last place the
Scáthach
would think you would flee to, since it is near to her isle.”

“Do you mean that island?” Finn pointed over his shoulder to the piece of land just off the shore.

“Aye. It's known by the local people as the
Scáthach's
Ring.”

Finn frowned. “The
Scáthach's
Ring?”

Gideon paused and pointed back to the pillars of stones on the island's top. Finn squinted, the wind still making his eyes tear. He noticed that the pillars were indeed arranged in a circle.

“She lives
there
? Kind of drafty.”

“There is more to that Ring than can be seen with the naked eye. And within that circle is something that just might help us end all of this. That is why I asked Griffin to bring you and me here.”

“What? How?”

“I'll explain in full once we're a bit more hidden and out of this storm.” Gideon continued hiking uphill.

“Where are we going?”

“A place where we will be safe and dry.” The Knight's stride
increased.

Stumbling along beside his master with his head bowed, Finn concentrated on not tripping over rocks in the darkening night. In spite of his training, he was panting by the time they reached the top of the hill. Without a word, Gideon strode down the other side. Finn followed, slipping now and again on the wet grass.

Able to breathe, Finn asked, “You said there was something inside the
Scáthach's
Ring that would help us?”

“Aye. Something Mac Roth believes can aid us, albeit in a rather roundabout way. The Burnt Bones.”

“You mentioned them before. What are they?
Where
are they?”

“Within the Ring, under a dolmen, lie the burnt bones of an ancient druid, who was reported to be so powerful he could bend time and alter events. After his death, they discovered that even his bones were imbued with that same ability. Legend has it that a person's wish can be granted when he or she holds the bones and speaks his or her heart's desire.”

“Like,
any
wish?”

“According to the legend, yes, any wish at all. But each person is allocated only that one wish. Use it foolishly, and there is no second chance.”

“So, what you're saying is all we have to do is get over to the island, sneak inside the Ring, grab the bones, wish away the
Scáthach's
obsession with wanting to train me, and bam, we're good to go?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“How?”

“I do not know. Yet.”

They hiked downhill through a fretful rain that couldn't make up its mind whether to soak them or not. At the bottom, Finn was grateful to spot a tiny stone cottage tucked at the base of a rocky cliff in a secluded valley. A faint trace of a narrow track wound along the valley floor from the cottage before disappearing into the mist. Gideon paused, staring at the cottage as if trying to see through its walls. Something in the set of his jaw made Finn's stomach tighten.

“What's wrong?” He tightened his fingers around his weapon. Ignoring the question, his master continued down the hillside.

The cottage looked more weather-beaten the closer they got. Finn could see where stones had fallen out of the wall closest to them. The thatched roof was missing a few chunks. As they drew nearer, he noticed that the grass was thick and uncut right up to the threshold. The single window was a black square and the wooden door sagged half-open on its hinges. He faded back at his master's silent signal.

Gideon scanned the area, head up and cocked to one side. It always reminded Finn of a wolf on the hunt when his master did that. He tried to do the same, mouth open slightly to hear better. All he could hear was the patter of rain on the thatch, the hiss of the wind as it whispered over the turf, and the rattle of the dried leaves of a nearby scraggly bush—a bush Finn recognized as a
sláinte
nettle hedge.

He held his breath when Gideon pulled out his moonstone.
Almost instantly, a pale gleam swelled out from between the Knight's fingers. Easing forward, Gideon ducked under the low beam and stepped inside.