Free Finn's Choice by Darby Karchut Page A

reluctantly took it. Pulling the cork out, he raised it to his nose and sniffed. “It smells like burnt…
something
.” He sniffed again.
    â€œDragon tongue.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThat’s what it smells like,” Iona said. “Burnt dragon tongue. At least, it does to me.” She snapped her fingers at him. “Now, drink the potion so we can begin and your master will stop glaring at me from across the room. He’s giving me frostbite. And don’t spill a drop.”
    Finn took a deep breath. Placing the bottle to his lips, he tilted his head back and gulped it down before his taste buds could call a strike. He fought not to gag. Swallowing, then swallowing again, he wished for some water to clear his mouth. Iona took the bottle from him, placed it back on the hearth, and studied him, head tilted to one side.
    Not sure what to do, Finn stared back. Suddenly, the room tilted. Heat broke out on his body, as if in the grip of the warp spasm. He staggered a step. The heat increased. His skin tightened, like he had a bad sunburn, as the moisture was sucked out. Panting, he fought the desire to rip off his clothes, jeans and T-shirt now soaked with sweat. Blisters broke out around his nose and lips. Indesperation, he looked over at Gideon.
    His master was already halfway across the room. Shoving Iona aside, he swept Finn up in his arms and rushed for the nearest glass door at the far end of the room. Finn almost passed out from the pressure of his master’s arms on his burning skin. He bit down on his blistered lip to stop from screaming. Dimly, he heard Gideon kick the door open.
    The night air, cold and stinging, and oh, so welcome, flowed over Finn as Gideon laid in him in a snow bank. The flakes sizzled and melted on his body as his master began scooping more over him. Iona joined them, standing over Finn and looking down at him, chewing on the tip of a manicured nail.
    Relief made him woozy. He closed his eyes, relaxing deeper in the drift, then turned his face to the snow, relishing the cool wetness on his skin. With a sigh, he sucked in a mouthful and let it melt on his tongue.
    Still kneeling next to Finn, Gideon snapped at the sorceress. “What the bleedin’ ’ell was
that
?”
    â€œYeah.” Iona raised a hand in admission. “My bad.” Hooking her thumbs into her pockets, she frowned. “Hmm. It
should
have worked. I mean, I know loads of others who have used this recipe without any side effects. In fact, it was the reason I decided to give it a try and…” She paused. Her eyes widened. “Of course. I forgot.”
    Finn peered up at her, his body not longer wanting to burst intoflames. “Forgot what?” he croaked.
    â€œYou’re half-human.” She clicked her tongue. “Guess the old ways aren’t going to work on you.”
    Finn could feel Gideon’s anger and frustration through the hand still resting on his chest.
    â€œWhat are you saying? That you cannot help us?”
    â€œNo, what I’m saying is that I’m going to have to get creative, as I can’t use my own magic without the
Scáthach
going super-freak. While she may not have the warmest relationship with you Tuatha De Danaan, she
really
hates me.”
    â€œWhy?” Finn raised himself to his elbows.
    â€œLet’s just say I borrowed something of hers and leave it at that.” She waved away Finn’s next question. “Now, this next potion may take some time, but it just might work.”
    â€œWe do not have
some time
,” Gideon said. “We have eight days.”
    Feeling more like a boy and less like extra-crispy chicken, Finn sat up with a groan, his clothes soaked from both sweat and melted snow. He took Gideon’s hand and allowed his master to haul him to his feet, shivering when a gust of wind blew over him.
    Iona turned and headed back to the house. Finn stumbled along behind her, Gideon holding his