Doon

by Carey Corp

  “How do you know?”

  He turned to me with his weary, honest gaze and a tight smile. “Because they were inseparable. If ye were to watch them, you could feel how happy they were. Romeo’s not been the same since his Juliet left him.”

  “What if you found him a new mate at the Centennial, maybe—”

  “No. He wouldna take to her.”

  His face held more than a deep empathy for the bird, something honest but unfathomable. The golden flecks in his chocolate eyes shimmered as he leaned slightly forward and reduced the distance between us. Caught in his magnetic pull, I struggled to recall our dialogue—oh, yeah, swans, and mating for life.

  I swallowed down the egg-sized lump that’d materialized in my throat. “It must be difficult to be a swan.”

  “But amazin’ too. Swans are nature’s true soul mates.”

  Duncan and I were not swans. Or Romeo and Juliet for that matter, and we hadn’t—uh—mated. We were humans—plenty of fish in the sea, and all that.

  Duncan cleared his throat. When he spoke, his voice cracked awkwardly. “Have you—uh—ever been to a funeral before?”

  Okay, that was a random, personal segue. As I pondered my answer, I looked into his guileless eyes and the world slipped away. I felt myself nod without any conscious decision to open up. “My mom’s—but I don’t remember much. And then when my aunt passed … I was twelve.”

  Quiet as a whisper, he said, “Tell me about it.”

  Under his hypnotic spell, I began to share. “I remember feeling devastated, lost. Everyone was telling me how sorry they were, but all I wanted was to be left alone. When I finally slipped away, I went to see an old friend. A boy, actually.”

  “And?” Despite the heaviness of the word, his face remained impassive.

  “He kissed me.” Never mind that Finn was imaginary—so the factualness of the kiss was questionable. Duncan didn’t need to hear that part. “It was the last time I ever saw him.”

  “Have you been kissed since?”

  “Oh, sure.” I’d had my share of lip locks and tongue tangles, both on stage and off, though none had come even close to Finn. Made up or not, it was hands down the best kiss I’d ever had.

  Following my unspoken thoughts, a deep sigh slipped from Duncan’s mouth. “But there’s nothing like your first.”

  “Exactly.”

  His dark, luminous eyes continued to work their magic, pulling me toward him like an invisible tether. As his lips came within striking range of mine, his long lashes fluttered closed. “Except, perhaps, kissing your soul mate.”

  Suddenly, I felt like I’d swallowed a mouthful of wriggling bugs. Pulling away, I tried to cover my panic by looking at the crowd. “When will the Coronation happen?”

  That stopped him. His eyes snapped open and he blinked his confusion away before straightening himself. “Day after tomorrow.”

  So Saturday, right before the Centennial. “And the Brig o’ Doon will open when?”

  Between one heartbeat and the next, Duncan flinched as if I’d slapped him and quickly recovered. “Day after tomorrow at midnight.”

  And Jamie will name his betrothed …? My mind flipped the sentence around trying to come up with a way of asking that wasn’t totally obvious. When I couldn’t work the question out, I gave up. Instead, I lowered my voice to just above a whisper. “And Gideon?”

  He matched my volume. “Still contained. With everything going on, he won’t be missed.”

  We just had to get through the next two days. “You’ve got a lot to do before the Centennial.”

  “Aye.” Duncan raked his hand through his hair to create those brown, spiky peaks that were both chaotic and modern. “You’ve got something to do too.”

  Figure out your feelings.

  He didn’t need to say it aloud. It was scripted in the yearning on his ridiculously gorgeous face. But my choice had already been made.

  I would have plenty of opportunity for romantic leads in my life. Once I returned to the real world. And Duncan would eventually marry one of the locals from his fan club. In time, we would be nothing more to each other than a bittersweet ballad of remembrance.

  Which was what I wanted. Right?

  “M’ laird.” A man from the village placed a sympathetic hand on Duncan’s shoulder. He nodded somberly. “It’s time.”

  With a final, sad smile in my direction, Duncan left to lay his father to rest.

  As mournful bagpipes underscored the fiery bier floating toward the center of the lake, I thought about the beauty and savagery of the ritual I’d just witnessed. The voracious fire that consumed the pyre seemed jarring juxtaposed against the gentle motion of the water. Yet somehow, together, the pervasive impression was one of peace.

  “Shall we return ta the castle?” Fergus, with Fiona clutched at his side, smiled down at me. Despite their obvious grief, they looked mighty cozy.

  As my gaze darted from one to the other, Fiona intercepted my train of thought. For the first time since I’d met her, she blushed, a pretty pink that accentuated her wide cheekbones. She held a thick shawl in her outstretched hand. “Take this, Mackenna.”

  Mesmerized by the funeral ritual, I hadn’t noticed how chilly it had gotten. Until now. The rain had finally stopped, but the cold front that followed in its wake seemed more like November than August.

  As I wrapped the thick woolen shawl around my shoulders, Duncan and Jamie drifted our way. Hopefully, Vee and Doon’s future king had been able to work some things out. I looked beyond the princes for some indication of her mood. But she wasn’t there.

  Doing a slow three-sixty, I examined the clusters of mourners to confirm what I already suspected. She wasn’t anywhere in the pavilion. The irrational concern I felt at her absence rocked me to my core. It’d been hours since she’d crept back toward the church with Jamie in pursuit. Was that the last time I’d seen her?

  “Jamie, where’s Veronica?”

  The tight smile on his face melted into alarm that mirrored my own. “Isn’t she with you?”

  “No. I haven’t seen her all afternoon.” In an effort to stay calm, I over-enunciated each word. Accusation flashed across his features and I clarified somewhat defensively, “She was upset and I was trying to give her some space.”

  Jamie’s dark eyes grew as round as saucers as he, too, began to scour the crowd. “You let her leave?”

  I began to doubt the assumptions that seemed so reasonable at the time. “I didn’t let her do anything. She left. I was going to go after her—but then I saw you follow, so—I thought—” Jamie’s lack of recognition made me want to hurl. “Why’d you go back toward the church if you weren’t following Vee?”

  “To pray for my father’s soul. ’Tis customary before the final rites.” His voice was thick with condemnation, as if my being an outsider didn’t excuse my ignorance.

  Vee’d been missing for hours.

  I sagged onto a nearby bench. Duncan’s arms caught me just before my backside hit the wood and he eased me the rest of the way down. My chest tightened. The air squeezed from my lungs and made it difficult to speak around my fear. “You really didn’t see her?”

  Equal measures of rage and concern mingled in Jamie’s scowl. He looked capable of flaying someone alive. “Nay.”

  Fergus cast a sheepish glance over the group. “She’s not been with Fiona since the service. I woulda noticed.”

  Duncan still held me loosely from behind, the soft, reassuring brush of his fingertips as he stroked my back at odds with the steel in his voice. “How long has she been missing?”

  I did some hasty mental gymnastics. “Three hours, at least. Maybe more.”

  Jamie swore and whirled around to bark at Fergus. “Where’s Gideon?”

  The gentle giant shot Duncan a guilty look while clearing his throat before answering his new king. Little beads of sweat appeared on his pink brow. Apparently lying was not one of his strong suits. “Gideon and his men are still in the eastern pad
docks following a lead on the disappearances. But we’ve no’ heard from him since yesterday.”

  “Bloody hell!” Jamie addressed me without apology. “Mackenna, are ye sure she didna return to the castle on foot?”

  “It’s possible.” I negated the words with a shake of my head. “But I don’t think so. We’ve been stuck in the castle for days. She’d be too stir-crazy to go back.”

  Fergus’s lips formed a grim line of resolve as he towered over us. I could see the self-recrimination on his face. He’d been focused on Fiona when his job had been to watch us—watch Vee. Now, he felt responsible. “I’ll have one of the lads organize a search o’ the castle. But we should search the village and the woods at the same time, m’ lairds.”

  Jamie’s response was practically a snarl. “Get it done, man.”

  Fiona put a gentle hand on my shoulder and spoke over my head to Duncan. “I’ll get Mackenna back ta the castle, m’ laird.”

  As I watched Fergus hurry away, my attention shifted to a single white speck floating downward from the sky. In slow motion, I reached out my hand and wondered as the tiny object came to a rest in my palm. A nearly perfect snowflake.

  “It snows in summer here?”

  Duncan, Fiona, and Jamie stopped mid-discussion to stare into my cupped hand. They watched the already melting snowflake dissolve into a speck of water. Duncan gaped in wide-eyed shock as Fiona pronounced, “Veronica’s tryin’ ta cross through the mountains.”

  Already on the move, Jamie growled at us from over his shoulder. “I’ll get Fergus to stop the search parties.”

  Totally confused by Jamie and Duncan’s reaction to the wintery weather, I twisted first toward Duncan and then Fiona. “Why is he calling off the search parties? And how do you know where she is? And what—”

  Duncan gently, but firmly, cut me off. “We’ve no time for this right now.”

  “Time for what?” I struggled free of Duncan’s arms and back onto my feet as Jamie and Fergus barreled toward us at a full run. Obviously, I was missing something. Something huge. “What the hell is going on?”

  “Hell is right.” Jamie skidded to a halt. His nostrils flared like a bull and his fisted hands jerked as if seeking something to hit.

  Fiona looked at me, sympathy radiating from her kind face. I knew that look—it was the one people gave before breaking terrible news. “Your friend’s tryin’ ta leave the kingdom.”

  “No, she’s not. She loves it here.” If anything, I’d have to hog-tie and carry her back to Alloway when the bridge opened for the Centennial. “And she’d never leave without me.”

  But the panic on the faces of the three guys before me made me ask, “Why do you think Vee’s trying to leave?”

  “Because—” Jamie harshly snatched another errant snowflake and held it before me as evidence. “The borders are tryin’ to stop her any way they can.”

  Fergus cleared his throat. “We must hurry, m’ lairds. The mountain range is vast. We’ll need ta split up.”

  I grabbed at Duncan’s arm in desperation. “I’m going with you.”

  “Nay. If your friend doesna turn back, there’s to be a full-on blizzard comin’. We’ll not risk any more lives than is necessary. Fergus and I will go.” Duncan stepped in front of Jamie and angled his body to block him. “You’re our king now. You should stay behind as well.”

  “Not a chance.” Jamie’s eyes were hard slits providing no context to his granite features or his flat voice.

  Duncan pulled free of my grasp and crowded his brother’s personal space. “So you’d risk the crown then?”

  Just as forcefully, Jamie leaned forward until their chests were less than an inch apart. “This isn’t just about Verranica. If she makes it across the mountains and through ta the other side, we’re all doomed.”

  “Whoa!” I appealed to Fiona and Fergus. “Would someone please explain?”

  As the brothers glared at one another, Fiona tersely elaborated for my benefit. “Doon’s borders are enchanted. Impassable. If anyone tries ta breach them, the kingdom itself’ll stop them.”

  I thought of Vee—of how stubborn she could be when she got an idea in her head. I had no idea what motivated her to leave, but she would not give up easily. “What if she succeeds?”

  “If she succeeds, the pact between Doon and our Protector will be broken,” Jamie ground out.

  As much as I dreaded what he’d left unsaid, I needed to hear it. “And?”

  He ran a trembling hand through his snow-coated hair, combing the wet, blond strands away from his face. “If she doesn’t get herself killed in her attempt to reach the border, the Covenant will be destroyed, and Doon will vanish into the mists. Don’t you see? If she succeeds, it will be the end of us all.”

  The end? Numerous questions flitted through my head, but now was not the time. The snowfall was thicker, making it difficult to look at Jamie without shielding my eyes. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Just get out of my way. I’m going after her. Alone.” He growled as I scrambled out of his way. But Duncan didn’t move. Coiled and ready to strike, Jamie angled himself closer to his baby brother. “You too.”

  When Duncan still didn’t budge, Jamie raged, “Thas’ an order from your king! Stand down!”

  A muscle ticked in Duncan’s jaw as he mutely took a halfstep to the side. Without the slightest hint of remorse, Jamie continued, “Don’t let that one”—he jerked his head my direction—“out of your sight until I return. That, too, is an order.”

  As Jamie shouldered his brother the rest of the way out of his path, Fergus pleaded with him. “But, m’ laird, how will you know where to look for the lass?”

  Jamie tensed, but didn’t turn around. In a voice thick with condemnation and colder than the winter storm, he answered, “Because I willingly gave her everything she needed, including her escape route. If Verranica succeeds, it will be me who’s destroyed Doon.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Veronica

  Relentless, icy snow pelted my face, sticking to my eyelashes and obscuring my vision. The hood of my thin cloak had long ago soaked through and lay like a wet second skin on my head. Covered by the saturated fabric, my ears felt as if stakes were being driven into them with a giant hammer.

  “Verrannica!”

  Clearly, I was hallucinating.

  I stumbled forward, my toes and fingers burning with a cold, penetrating fire. I’d almost turned back dozens of times, realizing the futility of getting anywhere in this raging blizzard. But despite the pitch-black night and the blinding snow, turning back wasn’t an option.

  The wind screamed through the mountain valley like an angry beast, pushing me to my knees. I sank down on my haunches in the snow and found I didn’t have the energy to get back up. As I slumped forward, my eyes drifted closed and I lay my head on my legs. I’ll just rest here for a moment, I promised myself.

  I had to get the journal out of Doon. No matter what the cost.

  That morning, while Kenna was in the bath, I’d thrown the book into the fireplace and watched the flames leap around it like it wasn’t even there. After twenty minutes, I’d pulled the unblemished journal out of the blaze with a pair of iron tongs—it’s flawless condition confirming my suspicion that getting the cursed object out of Doon was the only solution.

  Since the bridge was impassible until the Centennial, I’d snuck away from the funeral, headed for Muir Lea. If I’d read Jamie correctly, very few people knew about the secret cliff path that lead down to the beach and out of Doon. But none of my plans or calculations had included this freakish blizzard.

  The roaring in my ears clued me in to the fact I was not only hallucinating, frostbitten, and lost—but most likely dying. I should have confided in Kenna or even Fiona. If I perished now, the knowledge of the cursed journal would die with me and the witch would win.

  No freaking way was I letting that happen.

  Drawing together my last reserves of strength, I began to uncurl and
get to my feet when a strange warming sensation permeated the hood of my cloak. I opened my ice-crusted eyelids and lifted my head. But instead of finding the endless snow-covered landscape, I stared directly into the eyes of the biggest animal I’d ever seen—a giant brown bear crouched so close, I could smell its rotten breath.

  I choked on a scream and fell back onto my behind, the movement startling the animal into action. It took a step back and let out a furious, ear-splitting roar. I scrambled back on my arms and legs like a crab, cursing my snow-encrusted skirts. The angry beast stalked toward me, a deep growl vibrating from its massive chest.

  Heart hammering, I continued to move backward on all fours until my shoulder slammed into what I assumed was a tree. Unable to take my eyes from the advancing monster, I pushed myself to my feet. Big mistake. Apparently, the bear saw this as a challenge, and rose to its full height. As it lumbered toward me on its hind legs, I swallowed a scream, afraid the noise would trigger the animal to charge.

  If a bear attacked, you were supposed to poke it in the eye—or was that for a shark? I searched for a stick or rock, anything that I could use as a weapon. Nothing. Not that I had any delusions of defending myself against the eight hundred pound mass of muscle looming over me.

  The next raging roar shook snow from the leaves above my head. Wicked-sharp claws and huge jagged teeth flashed in my face. I sent up a quick prayer and balled my hands into fists, bracing for the first strike.

  Thwack!

  The bear stumbled back, roaring furiously into the sky with a red-feathered arrow lodged neatly in its chest. Then it charged, its razor claws slashing toward me. I ducked as another arrow whizzed close by my ear, landing in the animal’s muzzle. Dropping to all fours, it whined and swiped at the arrow with its paws.

  “Let’s go!” A tall hooded figure appeared beside me. He jerked me by the arm and we set off at a quick walk into the dark forest. The wind howled, whipping through the trees with an almost human anger. I leaned forward as my protector pulled me directly into its raging strength.