Destined for Doon

by Carey Corp

  “I suddenly didn’t feel so good. The heat maybe, or something I ate.”

  He shook his head. “But you didn’t eat. At least not since I arrived.”

  Our close proximity made it difficult for casual chitchat. “You’re right. I forgot to eat . . . that’s probably it.”

  “Tell me, as your friend, how can I make you feel better?”

  If he wasn’t going to talk about us, I could at least get other answers. “Explain to me what just happened with Fergus and Fiona. And don’t tell me you don’t know, because I know you do.”

  Duncan stilled and looked over my shoulder at the black mountains. After what felt like an eternity, he sighed, shedding part of his shadows. “I’m guessing that Fergus told her.”

  “Told her what?”

  His low voice was barely discernible over the windstorm. “The truth about the limbus.”

  “Which is?”

  He cocked his head to the side in an effort to gauge my reaction. “It’s attacking our borders. Soon, we’ll be completely surrounded.”

  “How can you know?”

  “Because we took one of the Destined with us — a lad named Adam who studied environmental science at Oxford. He’s setting up a temporary base of operations at the hunting lodge. Based on the limited data, Adam estimates the Eldritch Limbus will encircle Doon in less than a fortnight.”

  That was bad, sure — but the way Fiona and Fergus were acting you’d think we were on the verge of another Doon apocalypse. Duncan knew me well enough to sense where I was headed, because he said, “Tha’s not the worst of it . . . The limbus is also expanding. If it keeps up, it’ll overrun the whole kingdom in less than a month. And then . . .”

  The final curtain call.

  A short while after Duncan escorted me back to my suite and left without so much as a peck on the cheek, Vee came knocking. Wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a tank top, she looked like her old self. Once again, I was reminded of how incomplete life was without her.

  Of course I ruined the moment by telling her about the limbus first thing. Although she listened without interruption as I recounted my conversation with Duncan, I could sense her growing agitation. When I got to the part about the final curtain, she pounded her fist into the comforter.

  “The moment I saw Jamie, I knew something was wrong!” she exclaimed. “The way he hugged Lachlan — I adore the jerk, but emotional availability is not one of his selling points.”

  She grabbed the brush from my dressing table, returned to the foot of my bed, and attacked her hair like it was a proxy for her boyfriend. “I begged him to tell me what was wrong and he just replied, ‘Nothing ye need ta worry about right this moment.’ Arrrrgh!”

  Her Scottish accent had gotten really good — but this was definitely not the moment to point that out. Instead, I reached for the brush, hoping she would surrender it peaceably while she still had some hair left. “Don’t you have maids or henchwomen to do this? What kind of queen are you?”

  “The kind who comes from Bainbridge, Indiana and is completely self-reliant.” She placed the brush in my hand and then shimmied forward so that I could scoot behind her. We’d done this countless times during sleepovers. “When I was back home, I couldn’t even afford to get my hair done. I’d save up for months only to have Janet give me some sob story about how we were on the verge of being evicted.”

  I laughed softly, but not because the memory was funny. “Then your mom would spend the money on box wine and Cheetos for Bob the Slob.”

  “Did you talk to her — you know, Janet — when you got back?”

  “Uh, yeah. I told her you met someone in Scotland and decided to stay for a while.”

  I noted the tiny hitch in Vee’s breath. “And what did she say?”

  “That the timing was perfect because Bob the Slob’s brother needed a place to stay.” Her mom had prefaced that statement by stating how she’d always known her daughter would turn out like her no-good daddy — but Vee didn’t need any more baggage from her train wreck of a parent. “On the bright side, she got rid of most of your stuff, so you don’t have to worry about Bob’s brother fondling your delicates.”

  Vee emitted a halfhearted laugh and then fell silent for a bit. I continued to stroke her hair, getting it smooth and glossy in a way I could never achieve with mine. Eventually she relaxed and admitted the truth. “Sometimes I think Jamie keeps things from me because he knows I’m a fraud. I’m not a queen — I’m a cheerleader.”

  “Shut up.” I tugged her hair just enough to get her attention. “You are the strongest, most stubborn person I know. If something is threatening Doon, you’ll find a way to save this place or die trying.”

  “This time the whole kingdom might pay for my stubbornness.”

  I touched her shoulder and swiveled her around to face me. “Anyone who knows you can see this is what you were born to do.”

  Her eyes dropped to the vicinity of the bedspread. “Except Jamie.”

  “Nonsense. More likely he was trying to protect you. Put yourself in his shoes. You’re the ruler — the fate of the kingdom rests on your shoulders, and if the natives get restless, it’s your head on the chopping block. He probably feels pretty powerless when it comes to you.”

  She looked up, tears trembling in the corners of her eyes. “I don’t need him to protect me!”

  “Wouldn’t you — haven’t you — done the same? It’s human nature to need to protect those we love. Not respecting that need is the same as negating your love.”

  Vee rubbed her face. “Is that what you were doing with Duncan when you abandoned him on the bridge, protecting him?”

  “In a way. Anyone with half a brain can see how much he loves his kingdom and people. Until I came, he never thought about what lies beyond.”

  “Still, don’t you think it was his choice to make?”

  I stood and tossed the brush on the dressing table. Keeping my back to my best friend, I busied myself with straightening bottles of nail polish. “Here he has friends and family. In Chicago, he’d have been alone and miserable.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  I shrugged, placing a bottle of Peachy Keen polish between Ruby Red and Sunset Glow. “I’m not . . . but it doesn’t matter now. I made my decision and I have to live with the consequences.”

  As I arranged Passion Plum next to Luscious Lavender, I heard Vee stand and braced for what I knew was coming.

  “Kenna,” she urged. “Look at me.”

  Adjusting the final bottle, Licorice Lust, I retreated deep within — to that place where actors lock their true selves away — and turned to face the person most likely to see through my act.

  Her turquoise eyes bore into mine. “No one would fault you if you decided you made a mistake. You know, if you’ve changed your mind about staying.”

  If I told her that I regretted my choice from the instant I walked away from the Brig o’ Doon and every day since, I would only get her hopes up. As much as I wanted a do-over, the dance had proven I couldn’t stay in Doon. I couldn’t watch Duncan be with someone else. Not even for the sake of my best friend.

  I met her gaze with what I hoped would appear to be a confident, straightforward smile. “Thanks, but I’m happy with my life.”

  And the Tony Award for the most miserable liar goes to . . . Mackenna Reid.

  CHAPTER 14

  Veronica

  Authority, I’d found, did not make one a queen. I closed the book, but the line from Queen Lynnette’s memoirs continued to play in my mind. I wished she’d been able to expound on that statement, but according to the timeline I’d constructed, it was likely the last she ever wrote.

  I’d stayed up half the night searching for some way that we could do things differently and stop the limbus before it got out of control, but what I’d found had me more confused than ever. I rubbed the heels of my hands against my stinging eyes. Honestly, perhaps a tiny part of me had waited up for a knock on my door — for a certain
blond prince to share what he knew about the increasing disintegration of the borders. Clearly, my wait had been in vain.

  “Why doesn’t my suite have one of these?” Kenna asked as she plopped down on the window seat beside me and pressed her face to the diamond-paned glass. “You can see the entire kingdom from here.”

  “Because yer not the queen, tha’s why.” Fiona set a plate of assorted scones beside the tea and coffee that had already been brought up, and slumped into the seat across from us.

  Kenna leaned away from the view and pinned our friend with a withering stare. “So glad you cleared that up, but not even a turret that looks like the inside of a genie lamp would make me want that staggering responsibility.” She reached for a cup and the pitcher of coffee. “No offense, Vee.”

  “None taken.” Staggering was actually a perfect word for it.

  Fiona leaned forward on her elbows. “I’m sorry, Mackenna!” she blurted, big tears swimming in her hazel eyes. “I dinna seem ta be quite myself these days. With the bans being announced this mornin’ . . . I . . . I love Fergus wit’ all my heart, but . . . I never pictured my wedding — ” Being held as a last-ditch effort to distract the kingdom from its impending doom, I finished for her in my head.

  Fiona buried her face in her hands, and Kenna rushed over, hugging the girl’s shaking shoulders. “Hey, don’t worry about me. You’ve got enough on your mind right now. I can take a little sarcasm. Plus, we all know I would make a craptastic queen.” She threw a helpless glance in my direction.

  “Yeah. Can you imagine her first decree?” Improvising, I stood and cupped my hands around my mouth. “Attention, Doonians: Every third Tuesday shall forevermore be Show Tune Day! All communication shall be expressed only through song and dance!”

  “You mean my first decree after I outlawed the color orange,” Kenna added as she released Fiona’s shoulders and reached for a scone. “It really does nothing for my complexion.” Wet giggles bubbled from Fiona like a soda fountain.

  “And,” Kenna persisted, “my third, and most important decree would require proper costuming for Show Tune day. All men would wear plaid knickers and buckled tap shoes.”

  “Can you imagine Fergus?” I demanded through my laughter.

  “We’d make a special costume to match his favorite tam.” Kenna nodded in decision.

  The thought of the giant tap-dancing in head-to-toe yellow plaid like some ginormous leprechaun was too much to take. The drink of tea I’d just taken spewed out of my nose in a decidedly un-majestic display. Fiona leaned back and clutched her stomach as tears of glee now rolled down her cheeks.

  After the burning in my sinuses subsided, and the much needed laughter had cleared the tension from the air, I got us back on task. “Thanks for meeting with me before services, girls. I read something rather interesting last night, but I’m not quite sure how it can help us.” Setting my plate aside, I picked up Queen Lynnette’s book and began to read the passage I’d marked:

  With the limbus creeping ever closer and the army yet to return, I have devised a plan. I shall utilize my previous acquaintance with the coven. When I was but a baker’s daughter and before I knew Adelaide and her sisters to be evil, I would often trade with them on market day — baked goods and bread for herbal remedies and such. Perhaps it is naïve, but I believe I can appeal to whatever good nature is left in them.

  I paused and looked up from the text. Fiona and Kenna sat across from me in identical poses, leaning forward with their elbows propped on their knees while clutching their mugs. Satisfied I had their attention, I opened to the next slip of parchment I’d used as a bookmark. “Here’s where it gets interesting.

  Under the cover of darkness, and without the king’s knowledge, I traversed the dark forest to the witch’s cottage. They welcomed me with open arms and listened respectfully to my proposal. The coven have agreed to a bargain. No more lives shall be lost to this heinous war, but we must leave Doon within a fortnight. Never to return. I’ve given Addie and her sisters the throne.

  I only hope Angus can one day forgive me.”

  The old leather spine creaked as I closed the book and pasted an expectant look on my face. These passages left me unsettled, a deep-seeded worry niggling at the back of my mind.

  “What happened?” Kenna prompted, waiting for me to wrap everything up with a neat little bow.

  “I don’t know, because then she died.”

  “She died?” Kenna slumped back against the pillows. “But she gave Addie what she wanted, right?”

  “I think that’s what she believed.” A chill stole across my skin, and I pulled a blanket over my lap. “But according to the legend of the Miracle, the coven had already made a bargain with the Great Deceiver, and he didn’t just want the land, he wanted the souls of the people as well.”

  “She didna have faith,” Fiona whispered. “She took matters inta her own hands, and she failed.”

  “So we’re supposed to just sit back, have faith, and poof . . . the limbus will disappear?” Kenna demanded.

  “Nay, but acting outside o’ the Protector’s will” — Fiona’s gaze drilled into mine — “is pure folly.”

  I cleared my throat. “Ah . . . there are a few more pages here, but they’re increasingly cryptic. It’s pretty clear that Lynnette realized she’d been duped before she passed on. I have some more books to read through,” I finished lamely, and stared at my folded hands.

  Queen Lynnette had done everything I would’ve done. She’d put the people above her own life, but it hadn’t been enough. Wasn’t self-sacrifice honorable? How was what Lynnette did different than me trading places with Jamie to save him from the same witch? I swallowed a gulp of tepid tea along with the lump in my throat.

  Fiona stood and began to tidy the table, and Kenna rose saying she needed to get ready for church. But I couldn’t move. The weight of my responsibility pressed me to the spot. Kenna glanced at me as she walked by, her eyes filled with questions. Attempting to reassure her, I shook my head and rummaged up a small smile. I didn’t want to talk through what was bothering me. For once, I didn’t think she’d understand.

  After my friends had gone, I couldn’t deny the questions burning inside me. What would the Protector want me to do? Me. A girl-queen with a handful of months on the throne. I’d lectured Jamie once about his lack of faith, about putting his own selfish desires above those of his kingdom and his Protector. But in fact, I knew nothing of the Protector’s will.

  I’d waited all day. Jamie’d been by my side through services, a stilted luncheon with my advisors, and our weekly calls on the infirm, and still he’d told me nothing about the ticking time bomb of the limbus. I’d spent the remainder of the evening scouring every book that had anything to do with the original curse on Doon and felt no closer to discerning the Protector’s will for me, or for the kingdom. And now, at the end of a very long day, I stood in the middle of my beautiful tower suite, my gut coiling like a python around a rabbit, squeezing tighter with every breath.

  Jamie’s lack of confidence in me only solidified that I was a figurehead — a queen in name only. I tugged at the tiara he’d given me, my scalp screaming in protest as the hair twisted around the edges fought to hold it in place. With a vicious yank, I pulled it off my head, and blinked back tears as a few strands of hair went with it. I held it out and stared at the intricate design; regal jeweled flowers entwined in a simple setting of silvery leaves, anchored by sturdy branches. In my heart, it represented everything I wanted to be — noble, humble, and strong. Everything I knew I could be, if only the boy who claimed to love me recognized it too.

  But if Jamie didn’t see it, how could I expect the people to? How could I be the queen they needed? The queen the Protector needed? I dropped the crown onto the table with a clink.

  I had to move.

  Sprinting into my bedroom, I stripped out of my dress and threw on my running clothes. I was halfway to the door when I remembered Kenna’s gift to me that morni
ng — a solar battery pack. It was the sole thing I would’ve asked her to bring me from the modern world. But I hadn’t needed to ask. One advantage of sharing a brain.

  After clearing a space in the middle of the room, I jogged over to the window seat and cheered. The tiny light on the box had turned green, indicating a full charge. I grabbed my cell phone, plucked out the small, flat battery, and replaced it with the charged one. The screen lit up with an electronic pixie jingle. As expected, the bars at the top of the display indicated zero connection, but I wasn’t trying to make a call. My fingers trembled as I plugged in the earphones Kenna thought to include and tapped the Play Music icon. I hit shuffle, and the first strains of a Justin Timberlake remix hit my ears and shot through my nerve endings.

  God bless solar power!

  Head bobbing, hips swaying, my chest throbbed with the beat. The deep bass line slammed into my brain, and then there was nothing but the music. Pieces of an old hip-hop routine flowed into pirouettes and leaps. Time had no meaning as every ounce of my being was consumed by the current of movement, the dance washing away every worry and fear. I twirled and let the ebb and flow of the rhythm guide me. Feeling like I could fly, I jumped, extending my legs into a jeté and then landed with a whirl, the weight of the world spun off my shoulders.

  As the beat built to a crescendo, I swiveled, tipped back, and extended my leg to the ceiling. Upside down, I caught a glimpse of tanned legs topped by a blue and green kilt. I straightened and pivoted so fast, I toppled to the side, barely catching myself on my other foot. Heat, which had nothing to do with the sweat coating my skin, prickled up my neck.

  Jamie lolled against the doorjamb, taking up most of the arched entryway. His time leading the guard had thickened his already muscled frame, causing his shirts to stretch across his chest and shoulders like an actor in a superhero movie. My heart hammered against my ribs as he shrugged off the wall and in a few smooth strides closed the distance between us.