The Eye of the Stone (7 page)

Yed's voice came at Jackson from the other side. “Think the arrow to its mark, Jackson Cooper.”

Jackson's arms began to quiver. The strain of holding the bowstring back was quickly taking its toll. Sweat trickled over his temples and down the sides of his face.

“Relax,” Radnor said. “Breathe in, then halfway out, then release. It's the Way.”

Jackson forced all of his concentration into what he was doing. It had become very important to him to do well, to look good in both Radnor's and Yed's eyes. Not in the same way he had always wanted Chris's and Seth's approval. That was out of fear of their teasing, their ridicule. This was different. Radnor and Yed were … well, really nice and patient with him. It seemed as if they wanted him to succeed, where Chris and Seth had always seemed glad when he failed. Jackson breathed in as instructed, emptied his lungs halfway, then held steady.

“That's it,” Radnor said softly. “Thaaaaaat's it.”

Jackson released. “Ow!” He bent over, hugging his left forearm. The bowstring had slapped against it when he shot, stinging him like a wasp.

“Much better!” Yed said.

Jackson looked up. The arrow was lodged in the hay, still high and wide to the left of the target. He let out a long sigh of frustration. “But I missed again.”

“Not by as much, though,” Radnor insisted. “You're close. You're almost part of the bow now, part of the arrow as it flies. Once you get that, it will never leave you. There will be no pain. And you
will
reach that point, Jackson Cooper.”

Jackson looked into Radnor's eyes. “Really? You think so?”

Radnor leaned close, bringing with him the smell of leather and something Jackson could only think of as completely male. “I
know
so,” he said with such confidence that Jackson, despite his stinging arm, couldn't help believing him.

And so it was, as if Radnor were some kind of a fortune-teller, that four shots later Jackson felt that now-familiar warmth in his chest from the stone, a sudden sense of calm, then a shift within himself. Not in how he planted his feet or notched the arrow or held the bow. Not in how he drew the bowstring back or sighted the target or released. The change was in none of the steps, but in how he went through the entire process. He came to see it not as a series of motions but as a complete thing, mind and body together. The arrow drew closer and closer and closer still to its mark. Until finally it hit dead center, and Yed let out a loud whoop, clapping Jackson on the back so hard it almost knocked him down.

“He did it!” Yed crowed.

Radnor nodded. “I told you so. Just as it was spoken to me.” He thrust his right hand up in front of his eyes, then drew it slowly away. He held the same hand out toward Jackson, palm down.

Yed did the same. He gripped Radnor's wrist at a right angle, their arms forming a T. “Hold my wrist in the same way I am holding Radnor's,” Yed instructed Jackson, “and let Radnor hold yours.”

“Yes,” Radnor said. “This is how we begin the Ceremony of Unity, stronger together than alone, bound in the Steadfast Order.” Radnor looked long into Jackson's eyes. “Join us in our quest for what is right, my friend.”

“Yes,” Yed said. “Join us, friend.”

Friend?
The word startled Jackson. Radnor and Yed wanted him to belong? Really? He looked from Radnor to Yed, then back again—father to son to father. And he could see that, yes, they really did mean it. It was as clear as the blue of their eyes.

Jackson smiled.
The Steadfast Order.
It sounded so mysterious, so magical. He shouldered his bow like Radnor and Yed had done, then reached out and gripped Yed's thick wrist as instructed. Radnor gripped Jackson's, completing the triangle.

“Friends,” Jackson said, the word as sweet as honey on his lips.

“Yes,” Radnor said. “Now on to the Chamber of Initiation. So it is spoken.”

“Then so it must be,” Yed said.

“So it must be,” Jackson chorused.

Still clasped together, Radnor and Yed led Jackson back into the torchlit Hall of the Steadfast Order.

10. Pendant Power

Later, walking back in the bright afternoon light with Radnor and Yed toward the village square, Jackson couldn't stop grinning. He'd done it! He'd faced his fear and let Yed rub the ground herb leaves on the palm of his hand, then let Radnor burn the sign of the Steadfast Order into his skin with a hot brand.

Jackson looked down at the circle with a triangle inside it. Radnor had called it “the symbol of unity and all-encompassing strength for what is right before Zallis.” Jackson wasn't sure what all that meant, especially
Zallis.
They said the word with such reverence. Was it what they called God? Seemed like he'd heard something to that effect. Or had he? Memory could be such a fuzzy thing sometimes. Oh, well, it didn't matter. Whatever Zallis was, Jackson knew there was magic in it.

Like in the stone he wore as a pendant around his neck. Yes, he was sure now. The black polished oval with the etching on it had magic in it. It had brought him to Timmra. It was what continued to give him that warm sensation in his neck and chest and the sudden sense of calm when he really needed it. And then it had protected him from pain. He'd found himself clutching it in one hand as Radnor brought the brand down onto the open palm of the other. To his continuing amazement, he had felt nothing other than pressure. Getting branded hadn't hurt. Not even a little. The magical power of the stone had apparently shielded him. He hadn't even flinched.

Radnor and Yed had both nodded. Then, to Jackson's surprise, they had bowed to him as if he were royalty. And Jackson had known that he had proved himself, just as he had with the bow and arrow. He'd passed their tests, and now he was really one of them. To show for it he had a bow and arrows of his own and a brand cooler than any tattoo he'd ever seen, even cooler than the one Seth had snuck off and gotten on his bicep last summer. That was just an eagle. It meant nothing. But his was the mark of the elite. He was the youngest member ever of the Steadfast Order, ever.

Jackson shook his head in wonder. Only in Timmra. Despite the bizarre and confusing chain of events that had brought him here, now all he could think was, What a place! So incredible, so full of possibilities. Here, time seemed to warp and twist into compacted coils that gave him ten years—no, a
hundred
years—more life for each minute. Time to become what he'd always wanted to be. In Timmra, he felt strong; he felt powerful.

Jackson smiled. He could almost feel himself getting bigger in the glow of his triumph, like a plant moved from the shadows into full sun. If only Chris and Seth—and his dad!—could see him now, walking with the Chieftain of All Timmra and Commander of the Steadfast Order, and the heir to the Chieftain's Chair. Would they ever be impressed. Tessa, too. He couldn't wait to show her how he and her father and brother had become friends.

Jackson gave Radnor a high five, then Yed, just like he'd taught them, each using the hand branded with the sign of the Steadfast Order. Jackson's grin grew even bigger. He rounded a narrow corner, head held high, only to run smack into Tessa racing in the other direction. The impact knocked Jackson back. His heel caught on a stone, and he sat down with a thump.

“Ow!”

Tessa's hands went to her mouth “Oh, Jackson Cooper! I'm sorry! I didn't see you. I've been looking all over for you. Where have you been?” She offered Jackson a hand to help him up.

Radnor stepped in front of her, a stern look on his face. “That is none of your business, Tessa.” He leaned down and lifted Jackson out of the dirt with one strong pull.

“Thanks,” Jackson mumbled, embarrassed that a girl had sent him flying.

But no one seemed to notice. Tessa was scowling at her father. “Jackson Cooper is
everyone's
business.”

Radnor scowled right back, a threatening growl creeping into his voice. “Watch your tongue, daughter. Remember to whom you are talking.”

“To whom
am
I talking?” Tessa demanded defiantly, hands on her hips. “Since you heard this voice and took the Chieftain's Chair, I don't understand you anymore. What has happened to the man I called Father?”

Yed leaned over and whispered in Jackson's ear, “Only Tessa could get away with this. This morning Radnor knocked out two of Latsi the Tailor's teeth for less.” He shook his head. “Sisters!”

Jackson looked from Tessa to Radnor, Radnor to Tessa. He could understand how hard it must be for Tessa to have to call her father Radnor and share him with so many other people. But couldn't she see the importance of his position? Radnor had tremendous responsibility. He was in charge of everything. The future of all Timmra rested in his hands. Jackson wished Tessa would just accept the facts and stop arguing. He'd experienced enough family battles to last a lifetime.

Radnor glared at Tessa. “I am Radnor now, so I have to take care of all my people.”

A pained look came over Tessa's face. “Take care of all your people? You call forbidding contact with the Yakonan—”

“Stop!” Radnor roared.

A deep fierceness rose up in Tessa's eyes. “No,
you
stop!”

Radnor's face went red, his fists clenched, and for a frightening instant Jackson was sure he was going to hit her. But instead the big man struggled to calm himself, then reached out gently for his daughter. “Not now,” he pleaded. “Not in our time of greatest strength. We've just initiated Jackson Cooper into the Steadfast Order.”

Tessa stepped back, a look of surprise on her face. She stared at Radnor, her mouth hanging open. Only after a moment did she blink and look to Jackson. “Really?”

Jackson stood up a little straighter. He'd thought she'd be impressed. He presented his palm. “Radnor gave me a bow and arrows too,” he couldn't help but add. “See?”

Tessa's eyes darted over the circle and triangle burned into Jackson's skin, the bow over his shoulder, the quiver of arrows at his side, then back to his face. “I see,” she said.

Radnor cleared his throat. “Is that all? Have you forgotten your manners? Your position?”

Tessa looked away and took a deep breath. “Forgive me,” she said, her voice a near whisper. She turned again to Jackson and bowed. “Congratulations on your initiation, Jackson Cooper.”

Jackson beamed with pride. “Thanks!” He returned the bow.

Radnor let out a humph and pulled Jackson back upright. “Enough of this!” he grumbled. “We have to go. There's much to do.”

“Yes!” Yed said. He winked at Jackson.

Radnor and Yed both started off toward the square. Jackson grinned, feeling very much like one of the guys. “Later, okay?” he said to Tessa, as if he'd always been that confident around girls. He turned to catch up with Radnor and Yed.

“Wait,” Tessa said, her voice urgent. She reached out and grabbed Jackson's arm. “I need to talk to you.”

“Come on, Jackson Cooper!” Radnor called. He and Yed had turned and were waiting.

Tessa tightened her grip on Jackson's arm. “No, stay,” she whispered, pulling him closer to her, “just for a minute.”

Jackson felt like a rope in a game of tug-of-war. Although the tension between Radnor and Tessa made him uneasy, the fact that they both wanted to be with him felt great.

“Hear what I have to say,” Tessa begged. She glanced at the sky, which was growing cloudy. “
Please
.”

Jackson looked into Tessa's eyes. They brimmed with emotion. Was that longing? He remembered the feel of her lips on his, so soft and smooth and warm. The flowery smell of her filled his nostrils.

“Okay,” he said, and found himself trotting over to Radnor and Yed. “You guys go on,” he told them, again with a confidence he could not have imagined before. But hey, he was Jackson Cooper, a member of the Steadfast Order. He was feeling downright cocky! “I'll be along in a minute or two. Just tell me where to meet you.”

A spark of anger flickered across Radnor's face. But before even the faintest hint of worry could work its way into Jackson's mind, Yed broke into a wide grin. He leaned close to Radnor and whispered in his ear. Radnor's eyebrows went up in surprise. He looked at Yed, then at Tessa, then at Jackson. A smile worked its way onto his face.

“Very well, then, Jackson Cooper,” he said. “Since it would benefit our cause, I'll not be the one to stand in the way of love.”

11. Their Only Hope

Jackson's face flashed hot with embarrassment. “
Love?
” he said with hushed intensity. “I don't love her!” As quickly as his denial came out, though, he knew it rang false.

Radnor threw back his head and laughed. “And I don't love roast stag!”

Flustered, Jackson stumbled over his words. “Yeah, but—uh—”

Okay, so he had come to care about Tessa a little. Okay, okay, more than a little. Who could blame him? She was, after all, the first girl ever to kiss him. She cared about him, that was obvious. And being with her felt so right. It seemed as if they'd known each other forever, as if they were meant to be. Still, he hadn't thought about it as
love.

“But Radnor,” he said. “I mean, she's—” He looked to Yed for help, but Yed just shrugged and kept grinning. “She's—well, she's your
daughter
!”

Radnor elbowed Yed. “Yes, and thirteen years old and ready to marry!”

Jackson's mouth dropped open. “
Marry?
”

“Of course,” Radnor said. “All Timmran women get married when they're thirteen. It is according to the law.” He laid a burly hand on Jackson's shoulder. “Go enjoy yourself, my friend, but be sure to keep your magic about you. You'll need it to tame someone like Tessa. As you've seen, she has a very strong spirit.”