Doon

by Carey Corp

  Rather than smile, Vee stubbornly shook her head back and forth. “This isn’t like that. I just need to find more proof.”

  That was my cue. I pulled the leather volume from my back pocket and pressed it into her trembling hands. “Here … It’s not like I was going to read it anyway.”

  Walking past my bestie, I stopped at the mouth of the bridge. Due to the streetlamps, it was as bright as high noon. There was no swirling mist, and thankfully no mythical kingdom in the distance. An unwelcome pang of disappointment registered as I accepted my aunt’s insanity. “What now, Vee?”

  In the quiet, she walked up beside me, arms crossed over her chest. “How do you think the rings work?”

  They don’t.

  But if she needed proof to get to that conclusion, might as well get started. “Why don’t we test them? Right here—right now.”

  Vee’s eyes grew wide as I reached into my pocket for Uncle Cameron’s ring and made a big production of placing it on my finger. Then I stepped onto the ancient cobblestones of the Brig o’ Doon.

  Nothing happened. Nada—zip—zilch.

  Vindication coursed through my veins as I charged to the center of the arch and pivoted to face Vee. “This myth is sooo busted! There are no magical forces at work here. No alternate dimensions or fantastical portals. I’m wearing Uncle Cam’s ring and I’m still right here in modern day.”

  With a half turn, I crossed to the far end of the bridge. “At least I believe I’m still in the present. The ultimate test will be when I step off the other end.”

  “Kenna, wait—”

  Flinging my hand up to cut her off, I stepped onto the embankment with exaggerated movements and turned to challenge my best friend, my hands on my hips. “If Doon is supposed to be my legacy, where is it?”

  Under the circle of lamplight, Vee’s crestfallen face had a jaundiced glow. She’d been throat punched by disappointment her whole life. First, her dad did a Houdini act, vanishing into thin air. Then her mom, reverting to her natural state of selfishness, blamed Vee for ruining her life. Finally, Eric cheated on her with a girl dumber than a box of Beanie Babies and lied about it. No wonder she fantasized about escaping into a perfect society that would treat her like royalty.

  I hated to shatter her delusions, but better now than after wasting the summer on some fantasy. “Now you,” I said, trying to temper the harshness in my tone. “Cross the bridge.”

  Vee stayed put. She shook her head vigorously back and forth as a distant clock began to toll the hour. Although I didn’t count the chimes, I guessed midnight—and the irony was not lost on me.

  Several tense seconds passed before Vee spoke. “What if nothing happens?”

  “That’s kind of the point, sweetie. Doon’s not real. And I’m not moving until you admit it. I’ll stay here all night if I have to.”

  “So you’d rather believe that your aunt was crazy than open up your mind to the possibility that Doon exists?”

  Was it Freaky Friday all of a sudden? Had Vee and I switched bodies in the attic? “Do you hear yourself? You’re supposed to be the logical one. What you’re suggesting—you know it’s impossible.”

  I expected her to answer defensively. Instead, she lifted her chin, her posture strong and confident as she replied, “This isn’t about what I know. It’s about what I feel, deep inside. It’s about my destiny.”

  “You make your own destiny in this world. You can be anything, do anything.”

  “Then I choose to believe in Doon.” With a deliberate step onto the bridge, Vee disappeared from the lamplight. As if someone cued spooky special effects, tendrils of mist began to curl over the sides of the Brig o’ Doon from the riverbank below.

  In the darkness, I could hear her measured tread on the stones. While I waited, the mists swirled and thickened, devouring the bridge until Vee’s footsteps became muffled and then vanished altogether. Had she paused halfway across?

  “Vee? Quit messing around.”

  The silence was as dense as the curtain of fog that’d sprung up out of nowhere.

  “Vee?”

  “Kenna?” She sounded miles away, but I would’ve recognized her panic at any distance.

  “Hold on. I’m coming!” Using the wall as a guide, I began walking carefully across the bridge. After a few steps, I lost all sense of relative space. Realizing I could easily pass her in the oblivion, I called her name.

  Her reply, while still distorted, sounded closer. “Here—”

  I shuffled blindly forward, hands thrust in front of me. “Where are you?”

  “I’m here.” Her voice reverberated stage left. Turning in that direction, I stepped toward the center of the bridge. At first there was nothing but impenetrable mist, and then a disembodied hand reached for me. Vee’s hand. Only it glowed blood red—like something from a horror movie. And mine, the hand that reached for hers, burned alien green.

  “Ken!” Vee gasped. She pulled me closer until we could see one another clearly in the strange light. “Look!” She lifted our intertwined hands, our rings blazing between our bodies. “This enough proof for you?”

  Too much. My lungs burned as my body went momentarily catatonic. I sucked in a shaky breath, wondering at the wheezy sounds coming from my throat. “This is not happening.”

  She met my eyes above the glowing rings. “I know you don’t want to believe in anything you can’t see or touch. I’m scared too. But we’re supposed to see this through. I know we are. Do you trust me?”

  I wanted to say no, but Vee’s certainty in the midst of the creepiness compelled me to admit the truth. “Yes.”

  “Try to believe.” When I nodded, she let go of my hand. “Put your palm against mine.”

  As soon as our rings touched, they glowed impossibly bright, like stage spots. Soon the red and green fused into a brilliant white beam that refracted through the mist like a prism. Fear kicked my heart into overdrive as I closed my eyes against the onslaught of blinding light.

  Vee’s voice, perfectly calm and clear as a bell, spoke reassuringly in my ear. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Then the light vanished. In its absence, spots floated across my vision. Breaking my connection with Vee, I stepped back to examine my ring. To my great relief, it wasn’t glowing green. It looked deceptively normal—like an antique handed down by a relative. Nothing more.

  After a moment of contemplation, Vee said quietly, “I suppose you’re going to tell me you didn’t see that.”

  “No.” Something had definitely happened. But even if our rings lit up like Christmas, it hadn’t changed anything.

  “You see?” Her reverent tone held no accusation as she spoke. “The rings are special.”

  “But it doesn’t mean Doon is real. We’re still lost in the fog on an old bridge in the middle of the night. In Alloway.”

  “Maybe we didn’t do it right.” Although I couldn’t see her face clearly, I could picture her concentrated frown in perfect detail. “I’ll bet the answers are somewhere in Gracie’s journal.”

  She reached into her pocket to retrieve the book, but I held up my palm to stop her. “Tomorrow, okay? I’ve had enough drama for one evening.” Had I really just said that? I turned to go back. Everything would make more sense—logical sense—after a good night’s sleep and a triple latte. “Right now I just want to go home.”

  “Wait!”

  It was the way she said it that stopped me. The expectancy in her tone—awed and hopeful, and totally out of place given the circumstances—made my heart drop. Then she said, “Look.”

  The mist began to form lazy swirls that evaporated before my eyes. I blinked, grasping for context as my lack of comprehension changed to shock. Sacred Stephen Schwartz! The bridge no longer spanned the river but ended in ruins at the halfway point. If I had taken two more steps, I would’ve been smashed into kibble against the rocks below.

  “What the—?” As if my brain finally caught up with my feet, I jumped back. My heart thumped painfu
lly in my chest as I knocked against Vee.

  One of her hands reached out absently to steady me. “Mountains.”

  Puzzled, I spun toward her. She wasn’t warning me about the drop-off as I’d assumed, but rather gawking in the opposite direction. In the distance where the sea should have been, huge purplish mountains stood silhouetted against a rose-colored horizon. Between us and the far-off peaks loomed gleaming white turrets.

  Vee’s soft whisper tickled against my ear. “Are we where I think we are?”

  What moments ago seemed like a fairy tale now appeared to be impossibly and unsettlingly real. Yet it couldn’t be true. My entire body began to tremble. Keeping my eyes fixed on the terrible castle in the distance, I whispered back, “I seriously hope not.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Veronica

  All the hope in the world hadn’t prepared me for standing on the soil of a mythical land, the sun rising where moments before the moon had dominated an inky-black sky. The realization that it should’ve been closer to midnight than morning must’ve hit Kenna and I at the same time. Instinctively, we clung to one another as we moved onto the riverbank. Somewhere in the distance a trumpet sounded, followed by the cheering of men—lots of them—their voices like shards of ice scraping across my skin.

  My friend yelped and grasped me even tighter.

  Struggling to gain my bearings, my gaze locked on mountain peaks that sprouted out of the ground like some monstrous version of Jack’s magic beanstalk. The tiny hairs rose on my arms. How was any of this possible?

  “I’m going back,” Kenna declared, letting go of my shoulders.

  I teetered precariously for a moment before gaining my balance. When I whirled around, Kenna was marching back toward the bridge, where tendrils of mist still swirled and coalesced, leaving only the first few feet of stone visible. Before my eyes, the undulating mass solidified into a giant barrier over seven feet high.

  “Kenna, wait!” I began to run, but my legs felt mired in knee-high mud. “The fog’s too thick!” If she tried to cross, would the ring light up and complete the ruined bridge, or would she topple blindly over the edge?

  Just as her feet hit the ancient stones, she stopped. The wall of fog loomed before her, pulsing like a living beast ready to suck her in and never let go. I reached out and grabbed her arm, hauling her backward so that she stumbled away from the bridge and collapsed onto the grassy bank.

  “This can’t be happening! The stupid bridge was supposed to—” Her voice broke as she buried her face in her hands. “What do we do now?”

  Kneeling beside her, I wrapped my arms around her shaking form. “Shh. It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”

  I glanced back at what was left of the bridge. “But I don’t think we can go back the way we came.” Even if the Brig o’ Doon had been crossable, I couldn’t have forced myself to turn back.

  Kenna lifted her head, and her wide gray eyes searched my face. “I can’t be stuck here. My internship … I have to be in Chicago in August.”

  “I know. Give me a minute to think.” And by think, I meant process.

  I pulled my knees to my chest and watched the morning sky awaken in brilliant Technicolor. As red, gold, and orange stretched over the landscape, it was like I’d just stepped from the broken farmhouse and onto the yellow brick road, the world shifting from black and white to dazzling color.

  Occasionally, a roaring cheer or collective groan carried through the valley, reminding me we weren’t in Kansas anymore. Lush green hills rolled into the distance, and just visible beyond the trees, sun-bleached castle turrets stretched toward a cloudless sky, confirming the impossible truth. I’d seen this magnificent place before, felt it in my soul—in the attic, when I’d slipped the ring on my finger. My vision blurred as tears gathered in my eyes. We’d found it—Aunt Gracie’s legendary kingdom. We were in Doon!

  And since Doon was real … Jamie! My heart stuttered and then skipped forward several beats. Was he really here, living and breathing, flesh and blood? I had to find out.

  “Vee?”

  I turned to meet Kenna’s unblinking stare, her eyes brimming with tears. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you and treated you like you were a lunatic. You’d be totally in the right if you wanted to do an I-told-you-so dance.” The words rushed out of her so quickly, it took me a second to decipher what she’d said.

  I shrugged. “It’s okay, I get it.” I couldn’t blame her for doubting my sanity just a bit; I had. “Being here is I told you so enough.”

  A grateful grin spread across her face and she pulled me into a hug. “Thanks.” She let go and pulled back. “Now what’s the plan?”

  I’d stuffed Gracie’s journal into the pocket of my hoodie for safekeeping. Pulling it out, I thumbed through the worn pages until I found the hand-drawn map labeled The Kingdom and then repositioned the book so Kenna and I could study the drawing at the same time. “Check this out.”

  Although I had the layout of the kingdom memorized, I traced my finger from the bridge past a forest and through the village, trying to calculate how far we were from the castle. There was no scale on the map, but if we could hear the voices it couldn’t be far.

  I stood and stuffed the journal back in my pocket. Brushing the grass off my jeans, I turned in a slow circle to get my bearings. Based on the map, we needed to head toward the mountains, keeping the castle turrets slightly to our right until we found the lake. Then we could follow the shoreline around to the left until we got to Castle MacCrae.

  Kenna cupped her hand over her eyes and squinted up at me. “Where are you going?”

  I extended my hand and helped her to her feet. “I say we head for the castle.”

  We stumbled through the never-ending forest for what felt like half a day. I completely lost my way—a few times. Apparently expert navigation wasn’t my strongest suit. All I knew for sure was that we were in a valley, the castle no longer visible over the trees. Thankfully, we could still use the escalating roar of voices as our gauge.

  “Any brilliant theories about what’s going on?” Kenna asked as she held a branch up for me to pass under.

  I’d cheered at enough football games to recognize the almost manic fandemonium of a full-scale sporting event. “I’m assuming it’s some kind of tournament.”

  Kenna froze in mid-step. “The kind where the losers get fed to the lions?”

  “That would be the Romans. Not to mention the fact we probably would have heard roaring by now if that was the case.”

  “Oh, okay.” Her head bobbed like a dashboard dog, and if I knew Kenna her mind was most likely racing through her tenuous grasp of ancient civilizations. “These people would most likely be from the middle ages, right? They’re not going to burn us at the stake, are they?”

  “They’re Scots, Ken, not Puritans.”

  “Still.” She clasped her hands and dropped her head to mumble a few hasty words. When she finished, she regarded me with a shrug. “It can’t hurt to pray Doon’s the singing, dancing, MGM-type civilization, can it?”

  I wanted to laugh, but a riotous cheer from the unseen crowd made it sound as if they were right on top of us. I pointed straight ahead. “It’s coming from the other side of those trees.”

  Kenna’s cheeks drained of color as her mouth pressed into a determined line. “The sooner we find out what’s going on, the sooner we can figure out how to get home. Let’s do this.” She took off at a jog and I followed on her heels.

  We made our way through the tree line and stopped, tilting our heads back in wonder. On top of an enormous hill sat a massive stadium-like structure. From our limited vantage point, the stone walls and multicolored flags stretched to the sky like some medieval Superdome—so much for my friend’s happy little musical theory.

  An impossibly loud cheer exploded from inside the arena and rolled over us like the aftershocks from a bomb, raising the hair on my arms. My heart threatened to pound out of my chest, the instinct for self-preservation warring
with my excitement—and the need to keep going.

  I felt a tremor run through Kenna’s frame as we huddled together. She took a shallow breath and wheezed, “Well, I’ve seen enough.”

  She turned to go back the way we’d come, but I grabbed her arm. Where had all her bravado gone? Usually she was the one dragging me kicking and screaming as she led the charge.

  “Not so fast, scaredy-cat. Let’s get a little closer and check it out.” I clasped her hand in mine and pulled. She pulled back. The reversal of our normal roles would be amusing if I wasn’t so focused. Nothing would stop me from searching every inch of this storybook kingdom for my kilt-wearing hero.

  After a brief tug of war, she gave up with a huff and blew a crimson lock of hair off her forehead. “Fine. Where was all this tenacity when I wanted you to audition for Hairspray?”

  We scrabbled up the hill and threw ourselves down behind the stone wall of the stadium, struggling to catch our breath. Not sure where to go from here, I indicated to Kenna with my own crude version of sign language that I wanted to get on her shoulders and look over the wall. Her brow lifted incredulously but then she nodded in agreement.

  Grateful for Kenna’s additional height, I arranged her long limbs in the proper squat pose, placed my foot on her thigh, and hoisted myself into a precarious position on her shoulders. Carefully, she rose to a standing position, both of us reaching out to the wall to steady ourselves. Without warning, visions of cheerleading formations flashed in my mind. Steph’s cruel voice screamed at me to stop slouching like a toad. I stiffened my spine and reminded myself that, thankfully, that chapter of my life was over.

  “For the love of Lerner and Loewe! What is taking so long up there?” Kenna demanded in a strangled whisper. “I’m not a human totem pole, you know.”

  Despite my inability to think of a snappy comeback, I was relieved Kenna had recovered her usual sarcasm. Swallowing my laughter, I peeked over the top of the wall. The arena was an oval about the size of a football field, with a dirt floor. Steep wooden bleachers filled with colorfully dressed spectators lined two sides of the playing field. To my left, I spotted a hidden opening leading under the bleachers.