by Tom Birdseye
“False magic!” the soldiers of the Steadfast Order shouted. They began banging weapon against weapon again.
Tessa winced at the clanking din. She scanned the sky, fear showing plainly in her eyes. The clouds had begun to swirl as if whipped by some gigantic hand. Thunder rumbled, deeper, more cavernous than before.
“See what they can’t see, Jackson Cooper,” Tessa pleaded. “In the name of Panenthe, in the name of love and harmony, help us. Now is the time.”
“Yes, now is the time! In the name of Zallis, do something!” Radnor demanded.
Jackson’s stomach twisted, his head swam. He began to tremble, then shake. How could Tessa talk of love when she’d turned so quickly from him to this—Jackson looked at the boy called Dedron—this Yako? How could she—
“Jackson Cooper.”
The words began low in Dedron’s throat, like a soft growl, so much like an animal, full of wildness. “Jackson Cooper.” He stepped up beside Tessa, his dark eyes locked onto Jackson’s, a penetrating stare that seemed to pry Jackson open, expose his very soul. Like a rabbit caught far from its burrow, like doomed prey, Jackson froze, his mouth suddenly wordless, his mind blank.
“Listen to me,” Dedron said. “After the Baen was defeated, the earth opened up and swallowed it, leaving only the tips of two of its fangs that had broken off in the battle. With those two fang tips Musa and Grier made this.”
Not taking his dark eyes from Jackson’s, Dedron reached under his cloak and pulled out what looked like two short bone flutes lashed tightly together with a leather thong.
“We call it the Shaw-Mara.”
A rich amber color, the twin flutes shined as if polished smooth by the touch of many hands.
“Its notes, if blown together by a Timmran and a Yakonan, are the only thing that can stop the Baen from returning.”
Even as Jackson recoiled from Dedron’s unnerving stare and animal voice, he felt himself being pulled toward the Shaw-Mara, wanting to touch it, to hold it.
Dedron held the Shaw-Mara out toward Jackson. “But the Baen has somehow snuck his power into the Vale and silenced it. No matter how hard we blow, it makes no sound. Help us.”
Jackson’s hands began to twitch, to ache for the flute.
“Use your power to fix the Shaw-Mara.”
A sudden spasm wrenched Jackson’s fingers out straight. His bow fell with a clatter onto the bridge planks.
He started to reach out for the Shaw-Mara.
“Don’t listen, Jackson Cooper! It’s a trick! He’s trying to capture your soul, too!”
Yed’s voice jolted Jackson as if he had been in a trance. Relief flooded him, along with deep fear and anger. He had almost been bewitched by Dedron. It was evil magic. He did have Tessa and Arnica under a spell.
“Destroy him and set my daughters free!” Radnor commanded. He scooped up Jackson’s bow and thrust it at him. “Use the magic power Zallis gave you!”
But Jackson waved the bow off. Yes, his power—not the bow but the incredible black stone. How could he have forgotten, even in all the turmoil? Jackson reached up and grasped the pendant. Strength, more than ever, much more, instantly flowed into his hands. He glared at Dedron. “Leave me alone!” he said, his voice coming out like thunder.
“Jackson, please,” Tessa begged. “The Baen!”
Dedron held the flutes out toward Jackson. Jackson looked down at the fingers and palm that only moments before had been pressed against Tessa’s back. They looked calloused and capable, but oddly unreal, more a foreign object than part of a human body. Anger swelled and rose in Jackson’s chest at the sight of them.
“Listen to your heart,” Dedron said. “Don’t be afraid.”
“Afraid?” The word was like a spark set to gunpowder. Jackson’s hands began to tremble with concentrated force. It surged into his fingertips, vibrating with a sensation like electricity ready to release. He held his hands up and shook them in Dedron’s face.
“You’re the one who’d better be afraid!” he shouted, and a tiny spark shot from the tip of his left index finger with a sizzle.
Radnor’s scowling face snapped into one of shocked wonder. “Your hands! But I thought—Is that a gun?”
A collective gasp filled the air. “A gun!” Several of the Timmran soldiers standing nearby stepped back, eyes fixed on Jackson’s hands as another spark—longer this time—shot out of his fingertips. As if in answer, lightning flashed across the sky and the rumble of thunder surrounded them.
“You don’t need that kind of power, Jackson Cooper.” Dedron stepped out in front of Tessa, who stared wide-eyed at Jackson, clutching Arnica to her side.
The stone pendant flared on Jackson’s chest, now radiating power like a sun. All of Jackson’s fingers began to spark. Foot-long arcs of jagged light crackled in the air, answered again by lightning and rumbling thunder from above. “Don’t tell me what I need!” he boomed, and leveled his fingers on Dedron. He felt all-powerful, invincible, filled with righteousness.
“Yes, Jackson Cooper!” Radnor urged, his voice hot in Jackson’s ear. “Break the Yako spell on my daughters.”
“Show them the power of Zallis!” Yed said into the other ear. “Show them the power of the Steadfast Order!”
“But you don’t understand,” Dedron said, for the first time a hint of fear seeping into his voice. “It is Panenthe who sent you, not Zal—”
“Shut up!” Jackson bellowed, and the next thing he knew he had erupted, lunging at Dedron, seizing him around the neck.
“No, Jackson Cooper–Jackson Cooper!” Arnica cried. She rushed forward with Tessa, who was shouting, “Stop!” Tessa grabbed Jackson, digging her fingernails into the backs of his hands.
In one quick motion Radnor was yanking her away, corralling both her and Arnica in his massive arms. “You don’t know what you’re doing! You’re under a Yako spell!”
Jackson’s hands tightened on Dedron’s neck. It was as if they had a mind of their own. “Break the spell on Tessa and Arnica!” he demanded.
Dedron struggled in Jackson’s grip, wrestling to get free. “But I didn’t put them under a spell!”
“Liar!” Jackson thundered. He tightened his grip even harder. Dedron gagged. “Heathen liar!”
“Jackson, stop!” Tessa screamed.
Arnica cried, “You’re hurting him!”
“PI—please …,” Dedron choked out. “In the name of Panenthe … I can’t … breathe …”
For an instant a memory flashed across Jackson’s mind. Seth had gotten mad and punched him in the stomach once, doubling him over. Jackson had lain in the playground dirt, gasping for breath, thinking he might die, feeling like he wanted to. Now a momentary rush of regret filled him and his grip loosened just a little. In that second Dedron twisted desperately to get free, his elbow slamming into Jackson’s forehead.
It was as if lightning had struck, then thunder, knocking Jackson back. For a moment patches of light and dark were all he could see. Intense pain shot 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.
“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.
“Jackson Cooper!” The voice was full of awe. Jackson turned to see Radnor. “Your magic—the power of Zallis—is great indeed!”
“Yes!” 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.
“Dedron!” 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. They’re cowards.” Eyes mocking, he jeered at Dedron and Beromed. “Yes, fear the Steadfast Order and all Timmran! Fear Jackson Cooper. Fear the power of Zallis as it poises to destroy you!”
“Three cheers for Jackson Cooper!” Yed shouted.
“Yes, three cheers!” Radnor commanded.
The soldiers of the Steadfast Order moved in close around Jackson, weapons raised, pumping them in the air, shaking them at the Yakonan.
“Jackson Cooper!”
Their faces swam before Jackson’s eyes.
“Jackson Cooper! Jackson Cooper!”
More joined in, until it became a chant.
“Jackson Cooper! Jackson Cooper! Jackson Cooper!”
Jackson turned in a slow circle, the cheers for a moment drowning out the rumbling echo under the bridge.
“Lead us, Liberator!” Radnor said. “Lead us to victory!”
Jackson blinked, then blinked again. Did this mean …? Yes, he’d done it. He’d been afraid but hadn’t run. Instead, he’d stood his ground and fought—really fought—for what was right, and he’d won. He gripped the pendant where it hung from the necklace, now snug around his neck, and felt yet another surge of power pass from it into his pulsing hands.
“Jackson Cooper! Jackson Cooper! Jackson Cooper!”
A smile slowly worked its way onto Jackson’s face. They wanted him. Him, Jackson Cooper, the Liberator, sent by Zallis, whose name they chanted. They wanted him to lead them to victory. Then surely the spell the Yakonan had put on Tessa would break and she’d see him for what he truly was—a hero, just like he’d dreamed of being. He lifted his hands—his powerful, magic hands—over his head.
“Forward!” Jackson shouted his battle cry. “In the name of Zallis, fight for Timmra, fight for what is—”
A great thundering roar came from under the bridge. Jackson looked down to see the river churning in frenzied whitecaps beneath them, the mud quivering. The timbers of the bridge creaked and groaned, then trembled.
Fear flickered in Yed’s eyes. “The earth is shaking again!”
“Everyone off the bridge!” Radnor ordered, picking up his daughters, one under each massive arm.
Tessa fought to break free. “Dedron!” she called again. “Dedron!”
Yed grabbed Jackson’s elbow. “Come on, Jackson Cooper,” he urged. He pulled Jackson with him as he followed his father and the soldiers of the Steadfast Order back off the bridge on the Timmran side. “Stay with me.”
The roar came again, even louder than before, building in volume, swelling. The earth under Jackson’s feet shuddered, and he was knocked to his knees.
The bridge convulsed and heaved upward. With a huge splintering crack it shattered, then fell down into a great fissure that was opening beneath it in the center of the river. The water rushed in after the timbers and boards, sending billowing clouds of harsh, sulfurous steam into the air.
Jackson staggered to his feet and stumbled back, coughing and covering his nose and mouth as a hot fog engulfed him, burning in his nostrils. “What—What is happening?”
But no one answered. All were retreating from the riverside, even Radnor. He sheltered his daughters with his cloak, though Tessa still struggled to escape.
“Dedron! Dedron!” she screamed.
With a deafening boom the fissure in the river grew into a gaping abyss. From the chaos of breaking stone, raging water, and billowing steam came a terrible, cavernous roar so wild and fierce it made the hair come up on the back of Jackson’s neck. He stared in helpless horror as out of the abyss climbed a huge beast, dreadful beyond imagination.
16. The Baen
Leather-skinned like a lizard, yet with the maned head of a lion, the monstrous creature rose up on powerful back legs to twice the height of a grown man. The hooked claws of its toes sliced into the hard earth like knives into butter. It glared around with blazing red eyes.
“The Baen!” Tessa cried at Jackson. “You’ve freed the beast!”
“No!” Radnor shouted as the creature whipped its long spiked tail about behind it. “It’s Yakonan evil. They conjured this up. Kill it, Jackson Cooper! Kill it with the gun of Zallis!”
“Kill it!” Yed said, backing away, his eyes wide with fear. “Kill it now!”
The beast unfolded sinewy fingers, each tipped with a hideous, curled, daggerlike talon. In his mind Jackson ordered his hands to do as Radnor commanded—to use the power of the pendant to send a bolt of lightning crackling from his fingertips, slamming it into the beast’s chest, crumpling this nightmare into a smoking cinder and saving the day once more. Be a hero.
“Kill!” Radnor shouted again. “I command you!”
But Jackson’s body would not respond. He stood petrified with fear, unable to move, his hands hanging limp at his sides.
Radnor shoved Tessa and Arnica at Yed. “Hold them!” He yanked his bow from his shoulder and shook it in front of Jackson. “It shoots only arrows!” he said. “See?” In one swift movement he fit an arrow to the string, aimed, and released. It zipped through the air and buried itself deep in the beast’s shoulder.
With a snarl the beast wrenched the arrow free and threw it to the ground.
“We need the fire of Zallis!” Radnor said. “We need it now!�
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Still, Jackson could only stand and stare.
Radnor spit in disgust, then fit another arrow to his bowstring. “To arms, soldiers of the Steadfast Order!” he commanded. “Kill the Yako beast! Kill it and defeat the Yakonan forever!”
Arrows and spears filled the air. One struck the bone above the beast’s right eye, the shaft splintering. Most bounced harmlessly off the beast’s armor-like hide.
Radnor threw his bow to the ground and drew his sword. “Blades and spears!” he yelled above the confusion. “Surround it. Attack!”
With a wild battle cry Radnor charged, a wave of soldiers rushing behind him. The beast roared. Its muscles rippled into tight bands. It slashed out at Radnor. He leaped to the side, barely escaping the cruel talons. Whirling, he brought his sword down, hacking off one of the beast’s fingers, leaving it wriggling on the ground in a pool of black blood. The Baen screeched in pain.
Radnor shook his sword in the air. “We’ve got it! Kill!”
The soldiers of the Steadfast Order swarmed in. One thrust his spear at the beast’s underbelly. With a blinding swipe the monster broke the spear shaft as if it were a toothpick and raked the man’s chest with its claws. The man fell back screaming, bright red with blood. An instant later another soldier was pulled into the beast’s grasp, his shriek of terror coming to an abrupt end as the beast bit down on his neck with jagged yellow fangs.
Jackson shook his head, trying to clear away the shock of violence in which he found himself swimming. Another wave of soldiers surged forward, slashing with their swords, thrusting with spears, hacking wildly with battle-axes.
Snarling, roaring, the beast lashed out again with its great claws and spiked tail. Men spun and fell, twirling partners in a dance with death. The ground turned crimson with blood.
“Deliver us!”
Jackson turned to see Yed release Tessa and Arnica and drop to his knees. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he bowed his head and clamped his hand over his eyes, then drew it away. “In the name of all that is Steadfast, I beseech thee, Zallis.…”