The Lodestone

by J. Philip Horne

  Jack woke that morning with the number ten on his mind. He focused on the number as he forced his body into motion in spite of the searing pain in his ribs. His guards hustled him out of the room, offering him a piece of bread to eat as they walked through dark palace halls to the front entryway. Drakin awaited him there, and they went out into the dark of night. Jack sensed the faintest early rays of dawn to the east, but then they were on the path through the jungle, and the only light was from a lantern carried by Drakin.

  He counted his steps in tens, and then his breathing. He changed the pace of his breathing until it matched the tempo he had discovered last night. Ten. Ten breaths, then he’d finish this.

  They arrived at the hill, and Jack felt fear and doubt gnaw at him. His breathing became erratic, and he lost the tempo. He pictured his foster mom, who he still thought of as Miss Edna, though he now called her Edalwin. She’d been twisted up with Drakin and the Horned King two hundred years before, and now the past haunted them. She had done so much for him. He could do something for her. His breathing gradually regained the tempo, and he started counting again.

  He crested the hill just behind Drakin, and the wizard turned toward him. Jack looked at him, and for a moment Drakin’s eyes tightened as they stared at one another. Then Drakin dipped into his belt bag and pulled out the Seal. Dawn was close, but darkness still ruled in among the twisted, giant trees surrounding the hill, and the stone’s energy pulsed brightly. Jack looked again, more closely, and saw that portions of the stone looked smudged, cracked, and clouded. Traces of energy occasionally flickered out of the stone from the spider web cracks.

  Jack felt his resolve harden. Drakin was using the trips back and forth between the worlds to destroy the Seal and free the Horned King. He was using Jack to destroy the Seal.

  Drakin slipped the Seal back into the bag and looked at Jack, a malicious smile playing over his lips. His brow furrowed in concentration, and Jack found himself at Hillacre, facing past the Red Oak to the bluff. The air was much drier here, and the light plainly visible as the sun approached the horizon from below.

  TEN

  He took a measured breath in tempo, though his heart raced ahead. Looking out over Texas from this hill felt right. Jack had taken comfort in the solitude of the hilltop for four years, and he was glad it all came down to this moment and this place. He wouldn’t want it to happen anywhere else. It grounded him, assured him that what he planned was good and right. Drakin had to be stopped.

  NINE

  A breeze stirred, and Jack drew in the next breath. Just a few more seconds. He imagined saying goodbye to Miss Edna and finally telling her he loved her. He’d wished he had had the chance to say the words, but he was pretty sure she’d understand. In his mind, Jack said goodbye to Sally, the closest thing he’d ever had to a friend. Farewell to Gerlock and Fortuna, and Derek, and Verdag. He let out his breath.

  EIGHT

  Three more breaths and he’d start to run.

  “Jack!”

  Sally’s voice shocked him, and he jerked around, momentarily forgetting about his ribs, and felt a searing, tearing pain. He cried out in pain, and then he saw them. All the people to whom he was saying goodbye.

  “Goodbye,” Jack said, as loudly as his burning chest could manage.

  SEVEN

  Sally stood frozen for a moment longer, and charged up the hill. Jack judged the distance, and felt confident he’d be able to do what needed to be done without interference. He had one more thing to say. He looked and found Edalwin’s eyes.

  “I love you, Miss Edna.”

  It felt good. Felt like closure.

  SIX

  The others all started up the hill after Sally. He looked at her, and saw in the terror of her face true friendship. She was actually concerned for him. Somehow, that felt good. He smiled at her as he breathed out in tempo.

  FIVE

  He turned and started running. The pain consumed him. Each step sent bolts of fire through his chest, and the blood leaking out of his nose dripped into his open mouth. Amidst all his pain, Jack was surprised how bad his own blood tasted to him.

  FOUR

  Jack was running hunched over, and glanced up. He made a slight adjustment and turned a bit to the right. Wouldn’t look very impressive to run into the tree and brain himself.

  “No, Jack, please!” Edalwin called from behind him.

  She knew. Of course she did. She knew almost everything.

  THREE

  The hill had flattened out. Just a bit further. The pain was becoming a real problem, and Jack was now running bent fully over and hugging himself, trying to hold his ribs together.

  TWO

  The internal pull hit his innards, and Jack would have laughed with pleasure if he had been able. Instead, he grunted and pumped his legs harder, picking up speed as he ran toward the bluff.

  ONE

  Jack took two more running steps and threw himself off the cliff into the empty air far above the rocky riverbed. The sun was a hair’s breadth below the horizon, and in its early light he saw the vines hanging as always from the thick branches of the red oak far above. They hardly seemed closer than they did standing beside the tree, safe on the hill. He was never going to make it.

  CRACK

  Jack couldn’t see them, but he felt the arrival of Drakin and his two thugs just behind and below him. They screamed, and somewhere in his mind Jack recognized that the screams trailed off below him. The hammer-blow of wind and magical energy hit him, throwing him up and forward. The shock of it caused him to arch his back, and he screamed, his eyes closed in the grip of pain, as his ribs were stretched.

  Jack never saw the vine. He slammed into it blindly and instinctively grabbed hold. The vine hung fifty feet below the branches above, and as Jack held on with a death grip, he swung out and up in a giant arc away from the hill. At the peak he opened his eyes. He was facing east, and the first ray of dawn washed over him. Then gravity’s pull tipped the balance, and he rushed downward, swinging back toward the bluff.

  The vine had saved him, but Jack realized as he swung back toward the hill that he’d die if he didn’t let go of it. He clung through the pain, and closed his eyes so he wouldn’t see how far he was from safety. He felt his body level off. He was at the bottom of the arc, swinging at top speed.

  The vine arced back up toward the hill—toward safety—and Jack let go. His eyes popped open and saw Texas far below. He was still facing east, flying backwards toward the hill. Jack sailed through the air and slammed into something. For a split second he thought he’d hit the face of the bluff and was about to fall to his death on the rocks far below. But the something he’d hit grunted and went sprawling backwards with Jack on top. He rolled off and looked. It was Derek. Good man.

  Relief like he had never known swept over him, and he wept. He’d made it. He’d landed back on the hilltop. Arms encircled him, and Jack opened his eyes to see Edalwin hugging him.

  “I love you, too, Jack.”

  Chapter 27

  MOM

  JACK LAY IN bed and slowly sipped the broth Miss Edna had given him. He’d practiced calling her by that name so he didn’t slip up when the next group of FBI or police or reporter came to ask more questions. His ribs still hurt, but the broth soothed his body from the inside out. It was magical. Jack smiled. It really was magical. He’d asked her about it, and sure enough, over the past two hundred years, Miss Edna had become fairly proficient at imparting healing through the food she served, even with her powers limited on Earth.

  Derek had spun a story to pin the madness of the past two weeks on the three men who’d been found dead at the foot of the bluff. Drakin really was dead. Miss Edna had confirmed the fact before they left the hill yesterday morning. Jack’s bizarre idea to jump to his own death had taken an unexpected turn. He had lived. Life after impending death felt different than normal life. He still hadn’t figured out how exactly, but it definitely felt different.

  His finge
rs strayed up to his neck once again. Bandages covered the raw wound left by the collar when it had dropped from his neck shortly after Drakin died. Miss Edna’s salve would ensure it healed quickly, but Jack was pretty certain he’d have a weird-looking scar around his neck the rest of his life. There were worse things than scars.

  Verdag, Fortuna, and Gerlock were holed up in a motel in Turner near the Wal-Mart, and would probably be stuck there for a couple weeks until they could arrange a trip to Kansas. Derek seemed to have a keen interest in helping, and Miss Edna seemed content to let him make the arrangements for them.

  Sally stuck her head in his bedroom door. He waved her in and she came and sat on the corner of his bed.

  “Good to see you awake again, Jack,” she said. “Cleaned up, too.”

  “Your parents doing better?” Jack asked.

  Sally walked to the door and closed it, then came back and sat on the bed.

  “They’re in the living room with Miss Edna,” she said in a quiet voice. “It was just like Derek said. They were happy to have me home, and had no problem accepting the story he concocted.”

  “How? How does everyone accept it? What about the monsters that first night? And the sheriff’s office demolished? And the wyvern? Is it still flapping around in Kansas somewhere?”

  “You were asleep by the time we got to that,” Sally said. “Edalwin… Sorry! Miss Edna told us to ignore all that. She said people have an amazing capacity to ignore facts that challenge their beliefs. Oh, and the wyvern was put down by the FBI after Ryan, you know… so it was just a giant puddle of goo, like those other monsters.”

  “That makes no sense,” Jack said. “It was a dragon. No way will people forget seeing it.”

  “Yeah, but Miss Edna said to just look at what people have done with that dragon that got into the lake in Scotland.”

  “Wait,” Jack said. “The Loch Ness monster is real?”

  Sally smiled. “Guess so. Anyway, thanks, Jack. You were really brave.”

  Jack nodded as Sally got up and headed back out the door. A few minutes later he heard the front door shut, and then Miss Edna walked into the room.

  “Jack, I think we may even have some peace and quiet now for a time,” she said.

  “That’s great, Miss Edna,” Jack said. “I still haven’t heard about the Seal. What happened to it?”

  Miss Edna smiled sadly. “Jack, the Seal was cracked and lifeless. Drakin didn’t live to see it, but he destroyed the Seal.”

  “What does that mean,” Jack asked. “Is the Horned King loose on Artaeris?”

  “Not yet, I think. The Seal wasn’t the prison itself, just the assurance that the prison was holding and would continue to hold.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Miss Edna paused, and then looked him in the eyes. “I’m going to do whatever I can to stop it. And if it gets loose, I’m going to fight it.”

  “But not tonight, right?” Jack said.

  “Not tonight, Jack, or the next day or the next. But a storm’s coming.” She smiled. “Ah, the irony that I should be worried about a storm brewing.”

  “I need some time to get better,” Jack said, “but when I do, we’re going to deal with this Horned King.”

  Miss Edna smiled again at him. An idea that looked like a doubt formed in Jack’s mind.

  “Miss Edna?” he said.

  “Yes, dear?”

  “Why haven’t you ever adopted me?” Jack asked.

  “Long life has its challenges,” she said. “I’ve found it wise to have no legal connections to anyone else, to make it easier to change identities every few decades. It’s how I’ve lived for two centuries. ”

  Jack sat quietly for a few minutes.

  “I’d prefer to have a mom,” he said, “instead of a foster mom.”

  Miss Edna nodded her head. “Good. I think I’ve decided I’d prefer to have a son. Let’s see what we can do about that.”

  Keep reading for a two-chapter preview of

  Joss the Seven

  by J. Philip Horne

  Fourteen-year-old Joss Morgan loves a good prank, but the joke’s on him when he discovers he has superpowers. The Mockers are coming for Joss, and they’ll use any means necessary to force him into a life of crime.

  The Guild of Sevens asks Mara to secretly train Joss in his new powers. To fight back against the Mockers, Mara sends him on missions to steal corporate secrets. Fighting crime with crime feels upside down, and soon Joss wonders which side he’s really on.

  Then the Mockers show up at his house, and Joss is out of time. He sets up a desperate, high-stakes prank to save his family. If he fails, he won’t end up in the principal’s office. He’ll be six feet under.

  Amazon reviewers love it! "the best book I've read all year" "I didn't want to stop reading" "I have read nothing like this."

  Flip the page for a two-chapter preview of Joss the Seven.

  Chapter 1 of Joss the Seven

  One Last Day

  “We’re gonna go out with a bang,” I said. “Come on.”

  I yanked Thomas toward the bathroom door. At least, I tried to. He’d grown a ton during eighth grade. It felt like pulling on a tree.

  “Geez, Joss,” Thomas said, “do we have to go in there?”

  I pushed open the door and held it for him. “Come on.”

  The smell of chemical cleaners, mildew, and urinals used by boys who had trouble aiming washed over me. Everyone knew you avoided the bathroom closest to the cafeteria. In my book, that made it the perfect place to plot.

  Thomas rolled his eyes, but stepped past me. I slapped him on the back and took a last glance down the hall. A flash of motion caught my eye, and I jerked my head back around. The hall was empty. I frowned and let the door close behind me.

  “Did you see a cat or something out there?”

  “What are you talking about?” Thomas folded his arms across his chest. “What’d you want?”

  “Right.” I shook my head. I was sure I’d seen something small and furry dart around the corner at the end of the hall. “Look, we said eighth grade wasn’t going to be a repeat of seventh, right?”

  “Yeah. We’ve done pretty good.”

  “Here’s the deal,” I said. “We’re about to be on the bottom again. Freshmen. Losers. But we’ve been making a name for ourselves. If we go out big, they’re gonna remember us.”

  “And?” Thomas hiked up his shorts as he spoke. His mom kept trying to get ahead of his growth by buying him clothes that were way too big.

  “Mr. Sanders had us make homemade ice cream in first period, right? Who knew ice cream was science? What was the word?”

  “Colloid,” Thomas said.

  “A colloid. So there’s a bunch of ice cream in the freezer between the science classrooms. It’s still going to be a colloid when we’re done, it’s just going to include hand soap.”

  Thomas eyes got large, and then his face split in a grin. “That’s brilliant. Evil, but brilliant.”

  I stepped to the sink and swiped the small, clear bottle of liquid soap off the counter and tucked it into my back pocket. “Let’s do this.”

  Mr. Michaels’ science room was empty except for the oppressive odor of formaldehyde. I grabbed one of the stirring spoons drying in the sink and followed Thomas into the utility room. The faint sounds of Mr. Sanders lecturing his class penetrated the door opposite us.

  The big freezer stood against the wall just to our left. Thomas eased it open and we were greeted by a wave of cold air. Nine silver cylinders sat on the three shelves. I handed the wooden spoon to Thomas and pulled the soap out of my pocket.

  “All of them?” Thomas mouthed at me.

  I nodded. “Ours, too. Avoid suspicion.”

  One by one, we lifted the canisters out and stirred in several pumps of soap. The ice cream was getting thick, so we took turns stirring and were done in a few minutes. Once the containers were back in the freezer, Thomas started giggling. It felt contagious
, but there was no time to laugh. We had to get back to the hall before the bell rang.

  “Let’s move,” I whispered, and went to the door. I cracked it open. The room was still empty. I gave the spoon a quick rinse in the sink and put it with the others before we walked out like we owned the place. A moment later, the bell rang and students flooded the hall.

  “We’ve got to get back there right after school,” Thomas said. “I want to see their reactions when they eat it.”

  I held out my fist, and he bumped it.

  That feeling of victory lasted until twenty-nine minutes into seventh period. That was when Ms. Arnett’s phone intercom buzzed. She picked up the handset.

  “Yes? Well, I see... Yes, of course…. I’ll send him right over.”

  She hung up, and as she did, her gaze swung up from her desk and fell on me. Ms. Arnett was pretty cute for a teacher, but right then I felt like Frodo trying to hide from Sauron’s gaze, except my desk offered no shelter from the glare.

  “Joss,” Ms. Arnett said, “I believe you are wanted in the office. Please report to Mr. Nichols immediately.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said.

  “Take your bag with you. I doubt you’ll have time to come back before seventh period ends.”

  I shambled out of the room and headed toward the office. How had they known? The ice cream wasn’t going to be eaten until after school. No one should have even opened the freezer for another half a period. I paused at the door to the office and took a look around. A flicker of motion tickled the corner of my eye, but when I looked down the hall, there was nothing.

  What the heck? Was I going crazy? Why did I keep seeing mystery animals? I took a deep breath and opened the door.

  Mrs. Diebold perched at her spotless desk behind the chest-high counter. She gave me a hard look, her pudgy face looking like it was carved from stone. Very pudgy stone, with wispy, graying hair creating a halo around it. Her smelly perfume dominated the room. Without saying a word, she pointed toward Mr. Nichols’ office on the far side of the room.

  I went in.