Free Finn's Choice by Darby Karchut

could.”
    â€œHave you asked them? I mean, I would rather learn this stuff from them instead of
her
.”
    â€œAs would I.” He slowed, indicating for Finn to fall in beside him. “However, I would make a deal with the very devil himself if it will help you pass these trials.”
    Side by side, they walked up the two stone steps leading to the front door. Lacquered in a blood-red paint, it sported another
triquetra
inlaid with what Finn guessed was gold.
    The door swung open. A smoky blackness so thick Finn coughed billowed out to meet them. Warm and smelling of cloves, it coiled around them. One inky arm wrapped itself around Gideon’s shoulder and stroked his cheek.
    The look of disgust on his master’s face almost made Finn laugh. Almost.
    Raising his voice, Gideon called into the interior in Gaelic. Finn caught only a few words:
Blade
and something like
do not tempt me
.
    The smoke drifted away. Finn could swear he heard a sigh of regret. Then lights blazed up, as if someone had flipped a switch. Squinting and momentarily blinded, Finn didn’t see the woman at first.
    â€œYou can’t blame a girl for trying.” Iona stood in the doorway. Dressed in black pants tucked into high-heeled boots and a sleeveless red blouse, she leaned a shoulder on the door frame. Her upper arms sported wide cuffs of beaten gold.
    â€œAh, Gideon Lir. The Black Hand.” She looked the Knight up and down with an approving glance. A faint smile curled her lip. “Or should I say, the
Dark Knight
. And look.” Her gaze flickered over Finn. “Robin.”
    â€œI’ll explain later,” Finn muttered before his master could ask.
    â€œIona of the Hills,” Gideon said curtly, as if resenting giving her the title.
    She stepped aside. “Welcome to my not-so-humble abode.”
    Finn followed his master inside. “Whoa,” he breathed, his voice echoing weirdly.
    A spacious room, half the size of a high-school gymnasium, greeted him. Glowing wall sconces encircled the perimeter like diamonds on a necklace and pushed the shadows into the corners. In the center, a fire burned inside of a low, circular hearth craftedfrom marble blocks. Within the circle, the flames snapped and cracked with anticipation. The smoke twisted like a rattlesnake as it rose, adding to a smog-like layer obscuring the ceiling twenty feet above their heads. French doors took up the entire far side. Finn could just make out the woods outside through the panes. The only furniture in the room was an enormous cabinet standing by itself in the center of one of the walls. Its dark wood gleamed in the light of a nearby sconce.
    â€œCan I offer you something, Gideon? Wine, perhaps?”
    â€œI did not come here to socialize. I came for your help. As we agreed upon.”
    Ion sighed. “Fine.” She pointed to a marble bench near the door. “You wait there,” she said to Gideon. “You,” she beckoned at Finn. “Come with me.”
    Gideon put out a hand, stopping Finn. “First, I want to know your plans.”
    â€œI’m going to give him a potion that will enable him to control fire. Or, at least, be able to physically handle flames without being burned. And yes, before you ask, this is a fairly common potion, so no, it’s not cheating. Technically, I’m not giving you my magic, I am simply making you aware of common knowledge.”
    As Gideon stepped aside, Finn followed Iona over to the hearth. The tap-tap of her boot heels echoed around the room.
    A small container, made from dark brown glass—it reminded Finn of a vanilla bottle—sat on the low wall surrounding the flames. She picked it up and gave it a shake. “Drink this, kid. All of it.”
    â€œIt’s
Finn
,” he said through gritted teeth. He eyed the bottle. “What is it?”
    â€œWell, it’s not Irish whiskey, I can assure you.” She held it out to him.
    Finn