The Eye of the Stone by Tom Birdseye Page B

through his head, jabbing, gouging. Then something inside him snapped, and all the hurts and humiliations of a lifetime swelled up from deep in his center, shrieking, “No more!” A mighty force burst from the stone pendant into his hands, increasing the power there tenfold, a hundredfold. As if possessed, Jackson lashed out in a blind fury, his hands now like clubs, and caught Dedron square across the face.
    Tessa and Arnica both screamed as Dedron fell back, a gash beneath his eye. Blood spurted from his nose.
    Tessa clawed frantically at Radnor, fighting to get free. “Stop, Jackson Cooper! Stop!”
    Eyes as fierce as they were wild, Jackson ripped the Shaw-Mara from Dedron’s hands.
    Dedron grabbed for it. “You’ll destroy us all!” His voice was full of terror. “ Listen to me! ”
    Jackson screeched like a banshee. “Stinking Yako!” He shoved Dedron back with such force that his head made a loud thud when it hit the planks of the bridge. “You’re the one who destroyed everything! And now I’m going to destroy you!” He crammed the Shaw-Mara into his jacket pocket, backed up a step, and leveled his hands at Dedron’s chest. Shaking with rage, tears streaming down his face, he concentrated all the hate and vengeance that had seized him into his fingers and aimed it right at Dedron’s heart.
    â€œ No! ”
    Tessa’s cry penetrated the wrath that gripped Jackson’s soul, and something within told him to listen.
    But he was already past letting go.

15. Battle Cry
    Like a demon unleashed, a terrible crackling blast ripped the air as huge, jagged bolts of lightning flashed from the ends of Jackson’s fingers. At the same instant a bridge plank only a fraction of an inch from Dedron’s neck exploded into splinters. Jackson’s hands jerked up and back as if kicked, his arm slamming into his forehead. He staggered, stunned, the acrid smell of sulfur burning in his nostrils. The thunder of the explosion echoed in his ears, then shifted into a deep rumble.
    Dedron lurched to his feet, wiping blood from his face. He looked around, dark eyes wide with fear, as the rumble continued. “Panenthe save us,” he said in a trembling voice. “This isn’t the work of the Otherworld, but the Under world. You— You , Jackson Cooper, are a servant of the Baen!”
    Jackson stared in a daze at his tingling, quivering fingers as—despite all reason—the rumbling echo grew louder, vibrated deeper, as if sinking into the earth beneath the bridge.
    Or as if coming from the earth itself.
    The notion felt disturbingly familiar to Jackson, yet he couldn’t remember why. He tried to wipe away the haze that clouded his mind, but with no success. He felt as if he were standing in a dark dream, awake and yet unable to move out of it and into the light, unable to see what would normally be clear.
    â€œJackson Cooper!” The voice was full of awe. Jackson turned to see Radnor. “Your magic—the power of Zallis—is great indeed!”
    â€œYes!” Now Yed was before him, a wide grin on his face. “Look, they’re shaking with fear!”
    Jackson looked to where Yed pointed. On the other side of the river, the Yakonan had retreated to the edge of the tall grass, many on their knees as if begging for mercy.
    Only their chieftess, Beromed, had rushed forward and was pulling Dedron off the bridge and back to his people, even as he resisted.
    â€œDedron!” Tessa cried out from the bonds of Radnor’s arms. Tears spilled down her cheeks. “Dedron!”
    Arnica started to cry, too. “What is happening?” she begged. “I’m scared!”
    Radnor clutched his daughters even tighter to him. “Don’t worry. The evil spell will wear off soon. Look at the Yakonan. They know their false magic is defeated. Jackson Cooper has captured their heathen relic. They’re afraid.