Destined for Doon

by Carey Corp

  “Obviously of foul play,” I interjected.

  “But it was never ta be proved. Adaira, who was the last person to see the queen alive, claimed the queen took her own life out o’ grief over her husband’s death. With the queen out o’ the way, there was nothing to stop the Blackmores from merging their line with Doonian royalty.

  “At Prince Angus’s coronation, he performed the Completing by recording the name of his queen-to-be. That night at the coronation ball, Angus revealed that his parents had appeared ta him in a dream. They had come on behalf of the Protector of Doon to intercede for the welfare o’ the kingdom. Next, he revealed that his choice o’ bride as written on the paper was not Adelaide but a pious girl from the village.”

  A thought flickered across Vee’s face, and she gasped. “It was Lynnette Elizabeth Campbell, wasn’t it?”

  “Aye.” Fiona’s wide, rounded eyes dominated her grave face. “Then right in the middle o’ the ballroom, Adaira tried to curse Lynnette. The witches were seized. Adelaide and her sisters pleaded for their lives, claiming their innocence — that they, too, were victims o’ their mother’s evil deceit. The young king believed and pardoned them. However, as a warning, he made the triplets bear witness ta their mother’s execution. And as Adaira’s body burned away, her girls began plotting their revenge, an unholy campaign that would eventually bring about the Great Miracle.”

  The miracle she referred to led to Doon being enchanted — or blessed, whatever you called it. The Protector of Doon hid the kingdom from Addie and the rest of the world, so that it only appeared for one day every hundred years. But even when the portal on the Brig o’ Doon opened, the enchantment made it so the powerful witch couldn’t enter.

  Vee twisted her hair until it was gathered into a knot, a sure sign the gears in her brain were churning. “How do you know all this?”

  Fiona smiled. “My granny used ta tell it to me as a bedtime story. Scared the mischief outta me, it did.”

  While I like a good campfire tale as much as the next girl, I failed to see how Fiona’s spooky soliloquy related to the little green book. Sure, we now had an origins story on evil Addie, but the bottom line was our best shot at deciphering the images in the book resided with the person trying to kill us.

  Vee, who’d been cradling the book during Addie’s backstory, held it out to Fiona. “Can you translate the part that’s in Scots?”

  Taking the book, Fiona sank back into her chair. Vee and I remained on the sofa, fidgeting as she read the first two pages. Three quarters of the way through, Fiona made an excited breathy noise, flipped ahead to one of the Pictish drawings and then back to the text. She scanned the last bit and then looked at us with bright eyes.

  “This book pertains to the kind o’ witchcraft practiced by the Blackmores.” She held the book open to us like some twisted kindergarten story time. “The Pictish stones are spells . . . and the text below contains instructions ta break the spell.”

  Vee leaned in. “So it tells us how to defeat the limbus?”

  “I believe it does, but whoever created this book assumed tha’ the reader could decipher the Pictish symbols. I canna tell which o’ these is the spell responsible for the limbus.”

  Indicating the stacks of books littering the floor next to the couch, Vee murmured, “Maybe there’s something in one of these others.”

  “Nay. The only source I can think of would be the witches’ book o’ spells.”

  “And where is that?”

  Fiona frowned. “I presume it’s still in their cottage.”

  Vee bounced to her feet. “So let’s go get it.”

  As she passed, Fiona stood and grabbed her arm. “Nay, my queen. That cottage is the source o’ the witches’ evil. Granny said it was intentionally built over an ancient Pictish site of human sacrifice, and that every time the Blackmores slaughtered another innocent on the grounds, the dark lord hisself gave them a spell for their collection writ in their victims’ blood.”

  The day’s snackage congealed in my stomach. We weren’t dealing with some Scooby-Doo hoodoo; this was pure and terrifying evil at its worst.

  Maintaining her death grip on Vee’s arm, Fiona explained, “There’s a reason that cottage is not protected by the Great Miracle — it’s a foul, unholy place. After Doon was saved, King Angus decreed it forbidden ta set foot inside the malevolent boundaries o’ the witches’ cottage. Breaking this law is an act o’ treason.”

  Pulling away from Fiona, Vee crossed her arms. “I have to do what’s best for my people, even if it breaks the law.”

  “There are those in Doon who would like nothing better than ta see you stripped of your crown and thrown inta the dungeons . . . or worse. If you’re found guilty of breaking that decree, Jamie or anyone else who defends you will be punished as well. What’s best for the people is for you to adhere ta the law.”

  As Vee opened her mouth, Fiona added, “Your actions save or condemn us all. Promise me you won’t go after the witches’ spell book. Please.”

  “Fine. I promise.”

  “Thank you. Now, if ye have no objections, I’ll be taking my leave to tell Fergus the good news about my dress.” Fiona set the book on the coffee table and gathered her shawl. “We’ll find what we need. I do believe that. We just have to be patient.”

  As soon as the door shut in Fiona’s wake, Vee grumbled, “I believe we already know what we need.”

  For all Vee’s intelligence, she could be frustratingly short-sighted when she set her mind to something. “You heard Fiona. It’s against the law to trespass on the witches’ unholy ground. If you disobey, the villagers will chop off your head and burn you at the stake.”

  Vee rolled her eyes. “I’m their queen. They’re not going to kill me.”

  “Um, history would beg to differ. It’s full of royal heads that have been severed from their royal necks.”

  Her brow lifted. “History? Really, Kenna? Would you care to elaborate?”

  “Fine. HBO would beg to differ.” Before she could comment, I added, “I’ll go get it.”

  “Stop. I’m not letting you go alone.”

  “You have to. Don’t you get it? I’m the talent. I’m not under Doonian law, and I can see the limbus. This is probably what I’m here to do. So let me do it.”

  “Fine. But I’m going too — at least to the borders.” She approached the large bay window, staring at the deepening twilight. “It’s too late to go now.”

  She was right. By the time we got to the cottage, it would be pitch black. We wouldn’t be able to see a thing and we couldn’t risk using torches. Not that I was all that keen to go sleuthing around in the middle of the night anyway. “Let’s go at first light.”

  “Perfect. I usually go for an early jog, so you can join me.”

  Great. Not only was I intentionally going into the zombie fungus to some cursed cottage that may or may not contain a spell book dictated by Satan himself, but now there was jogging involved. Elphaba was right when she said no good deed went unpunished.

  CHAPTER 17

  Mackenna

  NARRATOR

  “Once upon a time — ”

  MACKENNA REID

  “I hope . . .”

  NARRATOR

  “in a kingdom outside of time and place — ”

  MACKENNA REID

  “More than Broadway . . .”

  NARRATOR

  “lived a colossally stupid maiden,”

  MACKENNA REID

  “More than London’s West End . . .”

  NARRATOR

  “an equally idiotic queen,”

  MACKENNA REID

  “and a — ”

  “Kenna, enough with the prologue!” Vee hissed at me over her shoulder without breaking her stride. “We’re trying to be stealthy, remember.”

  Of course I remembered. Stealthy had been my word. Inconspicuous had been hers, but there was nothing inconspicuous about two Midwestern girls — one of them a newly appointed queen — jo
gging through Doon at the butt crack of dawn.

  “To be continued . . .”

  She shot me another dirty look. I gestured to my closed lips, and Vee returned her attention to the winding, overgrown path. “If you can’t help yourself, then sing in your head.”

  Vee knew I was trying to keep my mind off the reason for our little journey through the woods. I wasn’t sure if I bought Fiona’s granny’s story about the witches’ cottage existing over a Hellmouth, but facing the zombie fungus again was terrifying enough. This time I would go through it alone. Would I be as brave when the life of the boy I loved wasn’t on the line?

  MACKENNA REID

  “I hope . . .”

  An unhappily familiar stench warned me that the limbus was close. I rounded the bend and collided with my bestie’s royal backside. Vee stumbled forward but managed to stay on her feet. As soon as she regained her balance, she hopped in reverse. As she backpedaled, I caught sight of the obstacle in her path. If she’d fallen, Vee would have face-planted in a patch of black petunias.

  Like every other time I’d encountered the limbus, the putrid smell threatened to drop me to my knees. The forest, which I remembered as skeletal from my previous visit, was overrun with black, slimy moss. Vee’d had the forethought to rub a pair of scarves with lavender. I pulled mine over my nose to ease the stench.

  Vee watched me and then stepped forward right to the edge of the limbus. “Does it smell bad?”

  I nodded and managed to croak out, “What do you see?”

  Vee shrugged. “The same old creepy forest as usual. Bare except for the flowers.” The Ring of Aontacht blazed bright on her hand as she reached toward the nearest putrefied tree.

  “Wait.” I batted her arm away. “Aunt Gracie’s ring didn’t protect Duncan.”

  “I know, but the limbus didn’t hurt you. So we can’t draw any conclusions without more tests.”

  “Tests? This isn’t an AP science fieldtrip. If you end up with a zombie limb, Prince Overprotective is going to kill me . . . and then you . . . and then me again . . . and then the world’s gonna end.”

  “The world’s ending anyway, Kenna. Besides, Jamie and I have a new understanding. We’re playing to each other’s strengths. While he protects the kingdom, my job is research.” She reached tentatively forward. “This is just investigating a research theory.”

  My hand hovered alongside Vee’s, ready to pull her back at the first shriek of pain. She reached into the limbus and then withdrew. “See? I’m fine.”

  “Sure — if fine means that your sleeve is rotting from your wrist.”

  Vee looked calmly at the disintegrated cuff of her hoodie. When she wanted, the girl could be as rational as a Vulcan. “We should have brought an extra set of clothes.”

  “I hope you’re speaking in the royal we — as in, ‘We should’ve brought extra clothes for Kenna,’ because that’s the only ‘we’ here. This is as far as you go, Queenie.”

  “But — ”

  In no mood to argue, I grabbed her newly exposed wrist. Before I could reach toward the limbus again, Vee began to gag. Her free hand covered her mouth as she pulled away from me. When I let go, her panic disappeared. She blinked at the forest, trying to make sense of her own perceptions.

  “What just happened?” she asked in a low voice.

  “I tested my own theory. You saw what I see, didn’t you?” Sharing my sight had been totally accidental — I’d meant to pull her back out of harm’s way. But if it changed her mind about coming with, I planned to use the fluke to my advantage.

  She faced me. “I didn’t realize . . . I mean, I knew it was bad, but I couldn’t see, or smell . . . Oh boy.”

  “Now you understand what we’re dealing with.”

  “But Duncan couldn’t see the true nature of the limbus when you touched him?” I shook my head back and forth, and she said, “What made you think that I could?”

  I held out my hand with my uncle Cam’s glowing emerald ring. “Fiona said the rings weren’t done with us, remember?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “But you had no idea that was going to happen when you grabbed me.”

  I should’ve known she’d call my bluff. “None whatsoever.”

  Vee pulled her scented scarf up to her nose and then lifted her ringed hand to mine. “Let’s see what happens if we actually reach in together.”

  She clutched my fingers.

  As we reached toward the limbus, the green glow of Uncle Cameron’s ring merged with the red light of Gracie’s to become dazzling white. The black flowers sprouting along the border shriveled, just as they had when Duncan hung over the crevasse. Wherever the light shone, the zombie fungus skittered away, leaving a bare and slime-free path. We swept our hands in a half-circle while watching the phenomenon. But as soon as the light moved on, darkness and decay crept back in with the promise of death.

  Like a perverse game of hokeypokey, we pulled our hands out and let go of one another with a little shake. I hadn’t noticed at the start, but the power of the combined rings gave off a charge of energy, like an electric current.

  The border of the limbus, which had been bare a second ago, was now overflowing with petunias once more. Vee’s eyes sparkled with discovery as her gaze leapt from the flowers to Aunt Gracie’s ring. “That was interesting.”

  “Little bit.” Prolonged exposure to the limbus made my throat feel scratchy, like I was on the verge of a cold. I coughed to clear it.

  Vee rotated her wrist back and forth. “No clothing damage that time. And did you notice the smell?”

  “No, I didn’t notice the smell. I was a bit preoccupied watching the limbus skitter away from the light like cockroaches . . . Wait, I didn’t noticed the smell.”

  Grinning, she said, “Exactly. When the light of the rings turned white, the smell was barely noticeable.”

  “Great, but so what?”

  “Don’t you see, we’re both supposed to do this.” She grabbed my hand. “The rings of unity. Together, the rings provide a small bubble of protection.”

  She did have a point. I wasn’t terribly keen on going into the limbus — with the horrible stench and the decomposing clothes — by myself. But I needed to look out for her the same way she protected me. “Are you sure you’re ready to commit treason?”

  “I never wanted you to face this alone. But this clinches things. We’re not even talking about the greater good here. This” — she shook our hands — “is a sign. The rings will help us defeat the limbus, but only if we work as a team. Besides, I’ve seen you search for things . . . Do you really want the fate of the kingdom resting on your Nancy Drew skills?”

  I didn’t need the ninety-minute sales pitch to know she was right. “If we are about to break Doonian law, then let’s be quick about it.”

  Using our intertwined hands as an anti-evil Mag light, we stepped into the limbus. Off in the distance, just to the left of the oozing path, I caught a glimpse of a crumbling stone structure. The dilapidated remains of the Blackmore cottage. If Fiona was right, the key to stopping the limbus was in a book somewhere in that ruin.

  The white light kept the limbus at bay just enough to keep the clothes from rotting off our bodies. After a short, blessedly uneventful walk, we arrived at another heavy patch of petunias surrounding the neglected fence of the cottage. Pointing to the flowers, Vee announced, “If the limbus is attacking the border of Doon, then this should be where it ends. Do you see any sign of it around the cottage?”

  I scanned for the black blossoms that heralded the zombie fungus. “No.”

  Wrenching open the dilapidated, iron gate with my free hand, Vee and I stepped across the threshold. As soon as our feet touched the other side, the bright white light faded so that the rings were once again glowing green and red.

  Vee let go of my hand and let out a slow yoga breath before she nodded toward the cottage. “Okay. Let’s go find that spell book.”

  Up close, the cottage reminded me of those ancient tourist
attractions. After five centuries of neglect, it just barely resembled a building. The walls were crumbling and in a few places had collapsed entirely. Parts of the roof had caved, the long wooden crossbeams resting across the rotting floor and dirty furniture like skeletal remains. The only thing that seemed unaffected by time was the heavy wooden door at the front.

  Cautiously, Vee and I circled around to our left until we found a space wide enough to enter the remains of the witches’ evil lair.

  “Watch the floorboards,” Vee warned as she stepped inside. “We can’t afford for you to have one of your clumsy moments right now.”

  As much as I wanted to take offense, she spoke truth. I slipped carefully in after her, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the task ahead. Vee was right; I didn’t want the fate of Doon resting on my inner sleuth. Now, if we needed someone to sing a magical aria that would reveal the hiding place of the book, I would be all over that. But creating order out of abandoned chaos was beyond me.

  Doing a slow three-sixty, I surveyed our surroundings. In the not-so-far distance, a garbled animal groan pierced the silence. I’d witnessed what the limbus had done to the crow, so I could only imagine what it would do to a raccoon or opossum. Zombie opossums of unusual size stampeded across my imagination, causing the hairs on my arms to stand on end.

  Vee must’ve been imagining her own zombie Jumanji, because when her gaze met mine with a reassuring smile, I noted fear around the edges. “There are only two rooms,” she said. “Why don’t we split up? You take the back one while I search in here.”

  “’Kay.” It was fine with me. The sooner we found the spell book, the sooner we could get the heck out of Zombie Dodge.

  Picking my way across the large main room, I approached the second room like a guest-starring detective on a New York procedural drama. Flush with the wall, my index fingers pressed together like a fake weapon, I pivoted and peeked into the back room. Resisting the urge to shout “Clear!” I stepped through the doorway.