Finn Finnegan Read Free Page B

to harvest the deadnettle leaves. They are more effective when fresh, especially if we are making a poultice or salve, or for a curative tea.”
    Finn took the pail and headed outside. As he started down the steps, Gideon grabbed his arm and jerked him backwards.
    â€œAre ye daft? Never leave our house without taking a look about ye. Assume the Amandán are always hunting us. Remember, the slaughter of every living De Danaan drives them, day and night.”
    â€œBut aren’t crows supposed to warn us if any Amandán are nearby?”
    â€œThey are. But only short-lived warriors depend entirely on those trickster birds. So, be mindful of yer surroundings.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    They scanned the yard and the street beyond. Gideon kept one hand on the handle of the knife behind his back. After a minute, the Knight gave a nod. They walked down the steps and across the yard to the hedge.
    â€œI wonder why we call it deadnettle when it helps us heal.” Finn crouched down and eyed the sharp spines on the stalks.
    Gideon took a knee next to him. “‘Tis more commonly known as the slainte nettle.”
    â€œ Slawn-che? ” Finn said, mimicking the Knight’s pronunciation.
    â€œ Slainte means ‘health’ in Gaelic. A fitting title for a plant that does so much for us De Danaan. From a tea to promote swift healing to a paste for wounds and even broken bones, the slainte nettle is as important to our people as our weapons. Now, watch.” He reached over and gingerly took a leaf between finger and thumb and plucked it. “The trick to avoiding the spines on the stems, as well as the tiny pricklies along the edges, is to grasp the leaf in the dead center.” He dropped the first one in the bucket sitting between them and stood up. “I want this pail overflowing before dinner.”
    â€œIt’s going to take a lot of leaves to fill it.”
    â€œAye, that it will. Ye best get started.” He rose to his feet and left.
    An hour later, Finn straightened with a groan. He worked the kinks out of his back as he peered around the neighborhood. I wonder if any mortals know about us .
    Picking up the full bucket, he started for the house. His fingers smarted from the nettles, and his face and arms were reddened from sunburn. As he reached the steps, he flinched, almost dropping the pickings when a voice spoke from the shadowy corner of the porch.
    â€œAll finished, then?”
    â€œYeah. I mean, yes, sir.” Finn held out the pail as he joined his master. Gideon sat in a decrepit lawn chair, a knife across his knees. “Have you been there all this time?”
    â€œAye.”
    â€œWhy?”
    Gideon stood up. He peered into the pail as he took it and gave a nod of approval. “Why do ye think?” Without another word, he went inside.

Four
    Pulling on a tee shirt over hair still damp from his morning shower, Gideon stepped out of his bedroom. Silent even in work boots, he crossed the hall to Finn’s open door and leaned inside. Predawn shadows filled the room. A faint whiffling sound came from the mound of covers on the narrow bed.
    â€œWake, Finnegan.” He waited for any sign of life. There was a slight hitch in breathing from the mound, then nothing. “‘Tis time to go.”
    Something stirred. Then a bare foot poked out from under the cover.
    â€œNow, boyo.”
    The foot wiggled at him in annoyance.
    Gideon cocked an eyebrow. Stepping closer, he grabbed Finn by the ankle; he hesitated for a moment. But only for a moment.
    Then dragged him off the mattress.
    Well-cushioned by the comforter wrapped around him, Finn hit the floor with a thump. Breathless from shock, he stared up open-mouthed, his face a pale oval in the dim light.
    The Knight grinned back. “‘Tis certain someone forgotten lesson number one from yesterday. When I say move, I mean move.”

    Twenty minutes later, Finn sat in the truck’s passenger