Doon (Doon Novel, A)

by Langdon, Lorie

  Next Fiona turned to me. “I know this has been hard for you, but when the time comes ye must be willing to sacrifice … for Jamie’s sake.” As she hugged me good-bye she whispered, “Pure, unselfish love can break any spell.”

  While I appreciated the sentiment, I had no idea how it could apply to saving Jamie. This wasn’t like one of those fairy tale movies where Love’s True Kiss could break any curse. But since she’d never steered me wrong before, I tucked the information away.

  Fergus, still mottled from their last encounter, cleared his throat shyly. “We may never see each other again. Won’t ye kiss me, Fee?”

  She leaned, doe-eyed with puckered lips, and whispered, “Come back ta me after ye help Veronica save the world. Then you kin have all the kisses ye like.”

  Abruptly, Fiona spun out of Fergus’s reach and mounted her horse. Without a moment to lose, the rest of us followed her example. Together, we galloped to the fork in the trail where Fiona would take the low road back to Doon while we climbed the high road toward Muir Lea. Just after the split, before she disappeared from sight, Fiona looked back over her shoulder and bellowed, “Believe!”

  CHAPTER 33

  Mackenna

  Thankfully, we encountered no bears or blizzards, which Vee had been worried about. But we’d had to abandon the horses at the end of the cart path and go the rest of the way on foot. It seemed a lifetime since I’d last hiked this hill carrying worries over whether or not the boy I liked wanted to kiss me. And if I’d let him. Now I fervently wished my cares were as trivial as kisses.

  As we approached the mountain meadow the sky began to lighten to indigo and then fuchsia. Moments later, crimson, orange, and hot pink streaked across the heavens at an impossible rate as dawn became day. When we entered the woods on the far side of Muir Lea, the sun blazed down from high noon. By the time we finally crossed through the passage in the rocks that would lead us to the beach, the sun already hung low over the ocean, bathing the modern world in gold as it prepared to say good night. The whole day had lasted maybe thirty minutes.

  The final descent into the real world had been murder in ballet flats. After Jamie’s kidnapping, Vee’d been so singularly focused on getting him back that she refused to waste any time on inconsequential things like practical clothes or clean underwear. The dress code for this pursuit was strictly formal.

  We stumbled onto the beach at sunset looking like something from a high school horror movie. My gorgeous teal ball gown had been shredded by thorns and low-lying branches, and my sagging hairdo, complete with twisted tiara, flopped annoyingly over my right eye. Deranged Homecoming Queen was not a good look on me.

  Duncan and Fergus, in their ragged dress kilts, looked like they’d just survived the Scottish zombie apocalypse. And Vee, well, she’d ripped off the bottom foot and a half of her scarlet gown ages ago. What was left of her tattered dress, plus the leaves and other debris poking from her hair, made her look like a crazed pixie. It gave me new insights into the integrity of some of my favorite TV shows. Saving the world while looking fabulous was next to impossible.

  Although the beach had looked deserted during the climb down, the minute we touched the sand clumps of vacationers materialized. Weaving through a touristy maze of plastic lounge chairs, striped blankets, and oversized umbrellas, Duncan and Fergus did their best to temper their reactions to the strange new surroundings as they followed our tiny fearless leader toward the parking lot.

  Trading sand for asphalt, I glanced back at the beach just as the sun dipped beneath the horizon with a flash of green. Soon it would be night—only a few hours until the Centennial was over. A nearby sign announced Ayr Beach back the way we came, and Promenade, which I remembered, thanks to Ally, was the main oceanfront drive. Alloway was only a couple of miles away, but without a car, it might as well have been light-years. I placed my hand on Vee’s shoulder, grateful for the momentary rest. “What now?”

  “We need a cab.” Without warning, she raced toward the promenade waving at a passing van. The cab slowed as the driver scrutinized our battered appearances. With a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, Vee explained, “Bridal party. We were celebrating on the beach and must’ve passed out. We need a ride back to Alloway.”

  The cabbie nodded and Vee wrenched open the door. I climbed in first. Without a word, Duncan followed, elegantly tucking his large frame into the bucket seat. But when it was Fergus’s turn, he began to backpedal like a cartoon elephant shrinking away from a mouse. “I’m not goin’ near that thing,” he declared.

  “You promised Fiona you’d follow me.” Vee balled up her fists, threatening the gentle giant with bodily harm, which under other circumstances would have been hilarious. But the frantic desperation that lurked just under her violent surface was no laughing matter.

  Fergus shook his head from side to side. “Not in that thing. What is tha’ foul beast?”

  In no mood to humor him, she grabbed his hand and twisted. “A horseless metal carriage. It’s not going to eat you. Now stop being such a big baby and get in!”

  In a death-defying feat of agility, she wrenched Fergus forward, single-handedly catapulting him into the “horseless carriage” with Taxi scrawled on the side. Before he could protest, she’d slipped inside and shut the door, and we were speeding off to rescue a boy-king by defeating an evil witch. Perhaps she was part ninja after all.

  CHAPTER 34

  Veronica

  Dunbrae Cottage loomed before us, dark and silent, appearing completely undisturbed. My chest tightened painfully. I’d had no tangible signs we were on the right track, but something in my gut had led me here. That same something made it impossible to be patient while Kenna searched for the spare key she’d hidden in the garden.

  “It’s near the door … somewhere around here, I’m sure of it,” Kenna muttered to herself as she and Duncan lifted every leaf and rock within ten paces of the entrance.

  About ready to break the cottage door down myself, I turned to Fergus. The gentle giant hopped up and down on the balls of his feet, his outward agitation a reflection of my own inner turmoil. “Can you open it?” I asked.

  “Aye, m’ lady.” He took a giant step forward, almost knocking Duncan out of the way in his eagerness. “Watch out! I’m going in.”

  In the same moment, Kenna yelled, “I found it!”

  Fergus stopped in mid-stride. Obviously annoyed to have no physical outlet for his fear, he balled his massive hands into fists the size of melons and glowered fiercely.

  “Thank the good Lord!” Duncan exclaimed as Kenna fit the key in the door and we all filed into the foyer. A stale smell of abandonment greeted us. Kenna flipped the light switch, but nothing happened. “Power’s turned off.”

  My heart raced, beating so loudly in the eerie quiet that I glanced at my friends to see if they could hear it. But they were all looking around in distraction, frozen with indecision.

  “Let’s split up,” I said. “Duncan, Kenna—you take upstairs. Fergus and I will search down here. Look for clues … anything, no matter how small, that seems out of place.” Three sets of eyes turned to me with undisguised skepticism.

  “Vee, sweetie,” Kenna said gently, “I don’t think he’s here. It doesn’t feel like anyone’s been here in a really long time.” Duncan and Fergus nodded in agreement.

  “Then the witch has done her job, hasn’t she? Don’t you see? She wants this place to appear deserted.” They all stared back at me, doubt clear on their faces. “Fine! You go, but I know he’s here.”

  He has to be, I thought as I pushed past them and into the entryway. I headed to the hall storage cupboard and rummaged until I found candles and matches. Holding the matchbox, I attempted to strike a stick across the flint, but my hands shook so badly I couldn’t bring the two elements together.

  “Let me help ye, lass.” Fergus’s voice, so close behind me, caused me to jump.

  I handed off my task without a word. As the candlelight filled the space
, I grabbed several candelabras on an upper shelf of the closet. Fergus inserted candles and lit the wicks one by one. In the shifting light, he appeared thoroughly chastised as he said, “I’m with ye, m’ lady. There’s a special connection between those who’ve received a Callin’.”

  “But I—” I started to deny his words, but Duncan interrupted me.

  “No, lass. Whether ye or my brother choose to accept it, the link between you is undeniable and should no’ be discounted. Hand me two o’ those candelabras. Mackenna and I will search upstairs.”

  “Thank you,” I breathed, swallowing the lump in my throat. No time for tears now.

  Two hours later, we’d found nothing. Kenna and I searched everywhere, pausing only long enough to get out of our cumbersome gowns and into modern clothes before ripping the cottage apart.

  I splashed cool water on my face and stared into the gilded bathroom mirror at my huge, haunted eyes. We were no closer to finding Jamie than we’d been when we arrived. None of us had found a single clue to indicate anyone had been in this house since Kenna and I left, let alone a sign that a witch harbored a young king here.

  Jamie’s image appeared before me, a cocky grin on his beautiful mouth, his dark eyes shining with love. With love? Did he love me? Or was I superimposing my own romanticized wishes on his memory? There was no point going there now … or ever. For Doon, I would find their new king and bring him home. Safe. From there I would let my future unfold, however it was meant to be.

  Taking several deep, cleansing breaths, I focused my heart and mind and prayed, Please, God, show me the way. In desperation, I waited, gripping the cool porcelain sink until my fingers went numb. What made me think the Protector of Doon would hear me, the girl who’d started all this trouble in the first place?

  Gradually, a pinkish light filtered in behind my closed lids. With a start, I opened my eyes and stared down at my hand. The Ring of Aontacht glowed, filling the small bathroom with a radiant light.

  Jamie was here!

  Grasping onto hope, I rushed from the bathroom. Kenna was nowhere in sight. I wanted to yell out for her, but as I opened my mouth some instinct warned me to remain quiet. If the witch was near, my shout would alert her to my presence.

  With only the dull glow of the ring for a guide, I took a tentative step into the foyer. The glow became startlingly bright. Curiously, I took a step back, and it dulled again. I rushed forward, and as expected the ring flared as I hurried into the middle of the entryway. According to the ring’s blazing light, I was on the right track.

  I considered my options. Fergus and I had searched the library together, removing most of the books from the shelves, so I stepped toward the front door … but the ring dimmed in response. Turning in a circle, I walked toward the stairway. The light within the ring remained unchanged. I backed off the stairs and moved toward the library, and to my relief the ring glowed brighter with every step.

  I entered the room and shut the door behind me. The luminosity of the red stone eclipsed the candles we’d left burning on the coffee table, casting macabre shadows on the walls and cold stone hearth. I fought back a shiver as I threw open the curtains and allowed a beam of moonlight to slice through the room. With singular focus, I ran my fingers around the edge of the hearth stones, testing the seal of the mortar. It appeared solid. Concentrating on the walls, I turned a slow pirouette, searching for any inconsistency … There!

  In the corner to the left of the hearth there was a gap between the wall and the shelf, wider at the top than at the base. The flame in the red stone danced encouragingly as I moved forward, my stomach doing sickening backflips. Slipping my fingers around the gap, I pulled with all my strength.

  With a great whoosh of musty air, the bookcase swung open to reveal an ancient stone staircase that curved down into blackness. Not wanting to risk the glow of the ring giving me away, I twisted the stone around and closed my fist over it. Saying a quick prayer, I stepped down into the unknown.

  CHAPTER 35

  Mackenna

  On the stage, conflict never resolves until the third act—at the eleventh hour. I tried to comfort myself, but the words felt empty. The eleventh hour had passed, and we were no closer to finding Jamie than we’d been at eight—or nine—or ten. With less than an hour left to save Doon, each futile minute scraped through me as if I were the narrow center of a sand timer.

  Throughout the day Addie had grown more Grimm-like in my mind, until she epitomized evil incarnate. Just like the storybook kingdom and fairy-tale princes come to life, the wicked witch lived in the flesh—and she was a mean, cunning old hag. Her magic had messed with Doon’s enchantment. If she was powerful enough to prevent the Brig o’ Doon from opening and fill us with such despair we were ready to roll over in defeat, what chance did our little Scooby Gang stand of defeating her?

  Unfortunately, we had to find her first. Despite Vee’s irrational insistence Jamie was here, we hadn’t found any evidence that Addie or the king of Doon had ever been in Dunbrae Cottage. We’d investigated every inch.

  With nowhere inside left to search, Fergus and Duncan had gone to inspect the riverbank while Vee and I reexamined the house. Exhausted and in desperate need of a timeout, I wandered upstairs to grab a few things. In the flickering candlelight, I hurriedly ransacked Vee’s drawers, stuffing cotton undergarments, jeans, a couple of hoodies, her jogging gear, and a few of her favorite books into a canvas bag. None of her other possessions would be of much benefit for her new life in Doon. After everything she’d gone through today, I refused to accept she and Jamie wouldn’t end up together.

  When I finished with Vee’s room, I headed to my own. I hastily searched for anything else that might be useful and added it to the bundle. Rifling through the closet, I grabbed my favorite jacket. As I shrugged it on, a crumpled rectangle of paper fell from the pocket to land faceup at my feet. My acceptance letter to the Adrenaline Theatre Company internship program, personally signed by Weston Ballard. Ever since I’d gotten it in the mail, I’d carried it around like a talisman, to ward off the spirits of an unremarkable life.

  Although half dead with fatigue and fear, that letter caused something inside of me to break. What would happen if I failed to save the boy I cared about? My life—my goal of a successful career on the stage—wouldn’t matter if Doon and all its inhabitants perished.

  And if by some miracle they were saved, what then?

  To his credit, Duncan had done his best not to gawk at his strange new surroundings, and he hadn’t said one word as I crammed him into the taxi. Although he was desperate to find Jamie, I knew a little part of him had been trying to prove he belonged in my world.

  But how? And as what? I suspected there weren’t too many job openings for the position of prince. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t reconcile the idea of Duncan working in a random office, or worse yet flipping burgers at some greasy fast food joint, with the daring Scotsman I’d first seen trying to pummel his brother to death.

  I guess he could always keep house. Shop at the local Walmart and cook misshapen meals while I pursued my career. Survive on misplaced infatuation while I embraced my dreams.

  My legs gave way and I slumped to the floor, too numb to go on. Duncan’s gorgeous yet tortured face appeared before me. His brown eyes held an unrelenting agony at the thought of his beloved home perishing. The hard set of his jaw conveyed his determination to save his world. His mouth clamped tight against unspoken fears that he might fail.

  All he’d ever wanted was to serve his kingdom, his king, and his Protector. He’d told me so at Muir Lea. Yet for me, he would walk away from his heart’s desires. How was that fair when I couldn’t—no, I wouldn’t—do the same for him? He deserved better: a long and happy life with someone who shared his ideals. Not some girl who insisted on putting herself first.

  Grains of sand continued to drop and shred my insides as I prayed for Duncan and Fiona’s Protector to work a miracle. Please save him, I begged. If you re
scue him, along with his king and country, I’ll give him back to you. I’ll give him up forever. I promise!

  A gentle whoosh resounded in the hall, followed by a blast of cool, dank air on my face. I blinked my eyes open to absolute black. The breeze that’d come out of nowhere had gutted the candles and left me in darkness.

  Was this the universe’s way of telling me to give up? Why would the Protector of Doon extinguish what little light I had? Wasn’t light synonymous with hope? And Divine promise?

  Please …

  My hand began to tingle. I watched a shimmering green flame dance in the emerald of my ring as amazement stirred in my chest. With each passing moment, Uncle Cam’s ring grew brighter. As the glow expanded to light the room, a great and terrible knowledge settled over me. The curtain had not closed on the final act. The plot still contained a few twists, and there was magic yet to do. In the grand scheme of the universe, my own dreams meant nothing; the only thing that mattered was saving those I loved.

  CHAPTER 36

  Veronica

  The stone felt cold and slimy beneath my fingers as I made my way down the passageway. To calm my nerves, I counted steps as I went. Twelve … thirteen … fourteen. The stairs funneled down in a tight circle. Moving silently, I descended into complete darkness. Eighteen … nineteen … twenty.

  I wouldn’t allow my imagination to form pictures of what I would find. Instead, I concentrated on keeping my balance and counting—as if my life depended on it.

  Twenty-six … twenty-seven … twenty-eight … twenty-nine … Whack!

  I pitched forward, hitting something solid with my shoulder. Belatedly, I realized the steps had ended. My pulse pounded in my ears as I explored the barrier in front of me. It felt like wood, warmer than the stone but still slick with damp. Images of spindly legged spiders dropping on my head and rabid, hungry rats milling about my feet almost paralyzed me. I opened my fist, and the red light of my ring erupted, illuminating a crude wooden door—thankfully, no spiders or rats were in sight.