Free The Eye of the Stone by Tom Birdseye

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.
    â€œVery 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.
    â€œBut 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? ”
    â€œOf 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.”
    Radnor looked at Tessa. “Here, take him,” he called out, turning Jackson toward her and giving him a playful shove in her direction. “But only for a few minutes. Get him some honey ice, there at Mook’s market stall.” He pointed to a canvas canopy strung across a side alley. “Cool him off, then bring him to the main gate where he is needed.”
    Stunned, Jackson watched as Tessa hurried to his side and clutched his hand in hers.
    â€œYes, honey ice at Mook’s, good idea,” she said, pulling him away from Radnor and Yed.
    â€œHoney what?” Jackson said, his mind spinning with Radnor’s words. Thirteen years old and ready to marry.
    â€œHoney ice,” Tessa said, stealing a quick glance over her shoulder at Radnor and Yed, who were still watching them go. “Here.” She guided Jackson under a low-slung canopy that smelled of wet straw and mint. “Honey ice. You’ll see.”
    A woman with plump, freckled cheeks rushed about in the small dark space, placing a large piece of wet cloth over a mound of straw. “Sorry, but I’m closing for—” She stopped when she saw Tessa and Jackson.
    â€œHello, Mook,” Tessa said.
    Mook gave Tessa a quick nod but kept her eyes on Jackson. “For such guests as you two,” she said, “I’m honored to make an exception and stay open. “Would it be all right if I join you?”
    Tessa looked out into the alley, then back at Mook. “Of course.”
    Mook bowed. “Thank you.” She pulled the wet cloth back, then pushed a clump of straw to one side. Beneath was a large block of blue-tinged ice. She tapped it with her finger. “Mine is the finest, sir,” she said to Jackson. “I gather it myself from the fields of ever-snow high in the Barrier Mountains. And my spice bowls”—she opened a wooden box and brought out three large oval-shaped green leaves, which she carefully placed on a small table “were carried here all the way from the South