Free Finn Finnegan by Darby Karchut Page A

and poised for battle. The river seemed to laugh at them as it gurgled along.
    Then, the quiet of the night exploded.
    â€œ FAUGH A BALLAGH! ”
    Shouting the Irish war cry, Gideon burst out of the bushes a dozen yards downstream. He sprinted toward them. Without slowing, he flung a taunting challenge over his shoulder. In hot pursuit, a second shape crashed through the willows. Snarling like a pissed-off pit bull, the Amandán churned up sand and mud as it ran, its dangling arms almost touching the ground. It sped up and closed the gap between itself and the Knight.
    Finn’s heart flew into his throat. He watched as his master leaped on top of a goblin-high boulder nearby and took a defensive stance. Balancing easily on the rock, the Knight raised his weapon aloft. Moonlight danced along the blade. It flashed above Gideon’s head like a flame.
    Then he heard his master laugh. “Come closer, ye manky beast,” he shouted when the Amandán skidded to a halt at the foot of the stone. “I dinna’ sharpen this blade for nothing.”
    The goblin stretched to full height. With surprising speed, it swiped at Gideon’s ankle, managing to snag the hem of his jeans with black-tipped fingers. It bared its teeth in triumph.
    Without thinking, Finn threw the rock in his hand as hard as he could; it bounced off the Amandán’s head with a dull thunk . The goblin yelped, let go of Gideon’s jeans, and whirled around. “ Nar , one of the whelps.”
    When ye can, take the fight to yer enemy . His master’s voice seemed to speak in his head. Control the field of battle. A. timely attack has won many a war .
    Finn’s voice cracked as he let out a yell and charged.
    And tripped over a half-buried log in the sand.
    He slammed face-first into the ground, sand abrading his cheek. The air whooshed out of him. He laid there, mouth opening and shutting like a stranded fish. His lungs seemed to have forgotten how to operate. Dimly, he heard Gideon and Mac Roth shouting, one in anger and one in triumph. Suddenly, the shriek of the goblin pierced the night, then was cut short.
    Just as Finn’s lungs decided to get back to work, a pair of hands grabbed him and yanked him to his feet. The blade fell from his grasp as he was spun around.
    Gideon clutched his shoulders, his grip like iron and his eyes ablaze. Finn could almost feel the heatwaves of anger coming off his master. “What, in the name of all the gods, do ye think ye’re doing?” He shook Finn roughly. “I ordered ye to stay by the bleedin’ rock!”
    â€œBut I—” croaked Finn, then stopped when Gideon yelled again.
    â€œThe beast could have turned on ye! Before I could have reached ye!”
    â€œBut I—” His teeth clattered together when his master shook him again.
    A massive shape loomed up next to them. “Now, Lir,” Mac Roth said, laying a massive paw on his friend’s shoulder. “Go easy on the lad. Why, Finn was only doing what any apprentice should do.”
    â€œGet himself killed before his fourteenth birthday?”
    â€œNo, ye thick-headed bog trotter.” Unmoved by Gideon’s anger, he calmly wiped his hatchet with a rag. “Protect his master’s back on the hunt.”
    Gideon’s mouth tightened as he glared at Finn. The muscles in his jaw jumped. Without another word, he whirled around and stomped off, slashing at the tips of the innocent willow branches with his blade.
    Finn stood in shock, heart hammering against his ribs. For some reason, tears prickled his eyelids. He bent over and picked up his knife, then dragged a sleeve across his eyes. He glanced over at Mac Roth, mortified.
    The Knight pretended not to notice. “Ye gods, but Lir can scream like a banshee, eh, lad?” He gave Finn a wink.
    Finn sniffed and chuckled. “Aye, that he can,” he said, mimicking the Knight’s accent.
    Mac Roth patted his shoulder.