Forever Doon

by Carey Corp

  Slowly, as if I might shatter into a million pieces if he touched me, he raised his hand to my hair, his dark eyes turning liquid. Desperate to believe he was real, I threw my arms around him, even as doubts flooded my mind. The witch had fooled me before. She’d disguised herself as Allyson when we first arrived in Alloway, and then Emily to worm her way into my inner circle.

  Was I letting it happen again?

  “Yer Majesty, we’ve got company.” The urgency in Ewan’s tone brought me back to the present with a jolt. Shouts sounded in the distance, punctuated by hurried footfalls. My questions would have to wait. I fingered the teardrop-shaped bottle tucked in my pocket. The elixir was our best hope and we had to get it out of the castle.

  Jamie released me. “Escape and then we’ll talk, eh?”

  I nodded as we rose to our feet, my head spinning with the possibilities. If this were a zombie Jamie, wouldn’t he be a mindless killing machine like Drew? His skin melting off like Gregory? Or was that just from the effects of the zombie fungus?

  “I’ll jump across and throw the rope back,” Ewan called from where he perched on the stone rail, knees bent for the dismount.

  When we’d first returned to our escape route, we’d noticed the rope had come untied from the terrace. Now it hung useless from the yew tree, fifteen feet way. It was a leap I doubted I could make without the rope, but I had to let Ewan try. I gave a quick nod and he launched himself into the air. For a moment, he appeared suspended, arms spread, dark cloak flapping behind him like a flying squirrel. Then he gripped a jutting branch that bowed under his weight, and he swung to his perch in the tree.

  The pound of boots grew louder, intermingled with the yap of hounds. Jamie’s warm fingers closed around my bare wrist. His touch rocked me so deeply, I gasped. Refusing to look at him, I grit my teeth and pulled away.

  “Ye go first and I’ll follow.”

  I gave a nod, and when the rope slapped into the banister I grabbed it and climbed up onto the ledge. I glanced back to see Jamie retrieving his sword, just as guards rounded the corner.

  “Stop in the name of the queen!”

  The queen, my behind! Tempted to turn and face my betrayers, I forced myself to focus on my mission and leapt off the banister. I flew through the night, and before I had time to think, Ewan clutched my arms and steadied me on the branch beside him. Grabbing an overhead limb, I spun around, but could just make out flashes of movement in the alcove and hear the metallic clash of steel meeting steel as Jamie fought the witch’s soldiers. My heart hammered into my temples. “Throw the rope!”

  I grabbed it and tried to jerk it out of Ewan’s fist, but he held tight and whispered, “Wait.”

  “Wait for what?” I hissed, my head about to explode. “To watch him die in front of me this time?” Regardless of my doubts, I couldn’t let that happen.

  Ewan stepped backward along the branch, his body forcing me to move deeper into the tree. “The witch’s sentries may not have seen us. We canna risk lettin’ them inform her that ye’ve been in the castle.”

  “But we have no idea how many guards are over there. We need to help him!” My voice rose in panic as shouts and barking carried to us, followed by what sounded like a bar brawl. Grunts and growls. Crashing metal and the thump of bodies. I stared hard at the shadowed space, but could only see quick bursts of action.

  “The MacCrae is one of the best swordsmen I’ve ever seen,” Ewan answered while keeping his gaze glued to the terrace. “In the lists, I’ve seen him take down five armed guards by himself.”

  A body went flying over the balcony rail. My breath stopped, until the large man smacked into the water next to the dock, and I recognized that it wasn’t Jamie.

  “And he fights dirty.” A begrudging admiration laced Ewan’s words, as if he’d been on the receiving end of his leader’s particular brand of attack more than once.

  The commotion in the darkened alcove seemed to lessen, and Ewan inched forward along the branch. A familiar sharp command sounded, followed by the cessation of barking and a low whine—Jamie quieting the hounds. I’d always marveled at how he could calm Blaz with a stern noise and a touch to the dog’s neck. If he were the witch in disguise or a mindless zombie, would he know to do that?

  “Throw the rope.”

  Just as the words left my mouth, Jamie hopped onto the railing. Ewan rushed forward, tossed the rope, and we both worked our way back toward the trunk to make room on the branch. Jamie swung through the air and landed with the powerful grace of a big cat, the limb dipping gently beneath his added weight.

  “We should go,” Jamie panted as he swiped blood from a cut on his cheek. “One of the men escaped.”

  But I couldn’t move. My fingers gripped the rough edges of bark at my back as I examined his face. The moon filtered through the scattered foliage, peppering his countenance with blotches of night. Was this my Jamie?

  “Yer Majesty,” Ewan urged, and then turned to face Jamie. “Laird, as ye said, we must go. There’ll be time for makin’ cow eyes later.”

  Jamie tore his gaze away and gave a quick nod before he began to scramble down the tree. I followed and when I reached the lowest branch, dangled several feet from the ground. Before I could drop, hands encased my waist. “Let go, I’ve got ye.”

  I released my grip and fell, my stomach jumping into my throat before I felt Jamie take my weight. He lowered me down the strong plains of his body, and despite being in the lee of a cursed castle with enchanted guards on their way to find us, sparks skittered over my skin, leaving me breathless. Could a witch-created Jamie do that?

  There was an easy way to find out. My hands settled on the back of his broad neck and I stared up into his face as my feet touched the earth. “What’s your favorite food?”

  The corner of his mouth lifted and he answered without hesitation. “Churros from the mall in Indianapolis.”

  I blinked at him in awe; only my Jamie had traveled to America and fallen in love with all forms of junk food.

  His eyes still guarded, he asked, “What did I give ye before your last coronation ceremony?”

  “Handfasting ribbons.” I lowered my right arm and pulled up my sleeve to show him the scarlet ribbon, the one that signified strength, tied to my wrist.

  “Verranica.” His voice broke on my name. “I . . .” He raised his hand to my throat, brushing a thumb over my bruised skin. “I hurt ye . . . almost killed—”

  “Stop, okay? You’re alive, that’s all that matters.”

  He swallowed and his tortured gaze cut straight to my soul. “I’m so verra sorry.”

  Blinking tears from my eyes, I squeezed his hand. “You thought I was the witch, didn’t you?”

  His lips parted in wonder and he nodded before he crushed me to his chest and buried his face in my hair. And the link I thought forever broken snapped into place between us. The Calling’s indescribable bond that made us part of one another.

  This was my Jamie.

  I’d heard once that everyone gets one miracle in their lifetime. A whimper vibrated my chest, and I was unable to draw air as I clung to mine. From the first moment Jamie MacCrae had appeared to me in the modern world, my life had been one marvel after another. But holding him in my arms again topped them all.

  He murmured something about honeyed berries before releasing me and turning to Ewan. “I assume ye arrived in that.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Will the boat hold us all?”

  “With Oliver, just barely.” Ewan took off toward the trees where we’d left our injured friend.

  I turned to follow and felt large, warm fingers link through mine. Fresh tears prickled the backs of my eyes and I gently pulled my hand from Jamie’s. An emotional breakdown was a luxury I couldn’t afford at the moment. And if he touched me again, I might curl into him and never want to move.

  Focusing on the task at hand—getting us and the elixir safely away from the castle—I jogged after Ewan’s retreating shadow. Jamie followed and we b
roke through the stand of pines, just as shouts rose from the castle gates. Oliver, only half conscious, staggered to his feet. “Is that you, MacCrae?”

  “Aye.” Jamie’s eyes narrowed on the ragged flesh of the older man’s arm before ducking under his shoulder. Ewan did the same on Oliver’s other side, and they half carried him out of the forest.

  “I’ll get the boat in the water,” I called as I rushed to the muddy edge of the lake. The steady tattoo of booted feet echoed through the night air, but mist hung heavy on the loch. If we could just make it onto the water, the guards would never catch us.

  I pushed with all my might. My feet slipping and sliding in the muck, I only moved the craft a few inches. The odd shuffle of the guys approaching grew louder and I doubled my efforts, anchoring my heels. The prow sank into the lapping current as a cry sounded from the castle. “The intruders are entering the loch on the east side!”

  My arms shook as I pushed. Part of me knew that one of the men could get the boat in the water with a single shove, but the thought only made me more determined. I gathered strength from my core, let out a growl, and gave a mighty heave. The boat slid into the shallows, tugging me with it. I stumbled forward, then threw my weight back, just managing to keep the back edge of the craft on dry land.

  Jamie lifted Oliver into the boat. “Ewan, take the oars. I’ll man the rudder.”

  Ewan positioned himself between the oars and I hopped in beside Oliver. An arrow whizzed past my face and splashed into the mucky bank.

  “Vee, get down!” Jamie yelled as he shoved the boat the rest of the way into the lake and then jumped in. “Get this bucket moving, Ewan!”

  Ewan heaved the long oars through the water with as much speed as his thin arms could produce, but moving against the current slowed our momentum. I helped Oliver off the seat and we both sank into the icy puddle at the bottom of the boat as three more arrows landed in quick succession. One missed, but the other two hit dangerously close—the first stuck in the wood near my face, the other in the bench we’d just vacated.

  Jamie jerked the rudder, but the boat’s slow response didn’t produce the evasive maneuver he was aiming for. Why hadn’t I listened and brought the crossbow? At least then I wouldn’t feel like a duck in a carnival shooting game. The whiff of several more arrows flew toward us, one hitting the oar less than an inch from Ewan’s fingers. Frantic, he increased his speed and we entered a bank of fog so thick I could barely see my hand in front of my face.

  “Stop,” Jamie commanded in a sharp whisper. “Hold us here.”

  Ewan pulled back on the oars until we floated in roughly the same spot, completely shrouded in a cloud of vapor. The fog blocked us from even seeing each other, and for several moments, we were silent. My brain ran through all the possible scenarios, and by the time Jamie spoke, I dreaded the words he would say.

  “We’re too large a target. We’ll need to swim for it.”

  I shuddered. Everyone has phobias. This was mine. As kids, when I had agreed to a rare afternoon at the pool with Kenna, I’d watched others frolic in playful oblivion as I doggie-paddled with my feet suspended above twelve feet of open water, terrorized by all the ways I could die. Jumping into a hundred-foot-deep, pitch-black lake teaming with hungry fish, and who knew what else, had to be worse. Much worse.

  It was a losing battle, but I whispered, “What about Oliver?”

  “I can float on my back and kick my feet,” Oliver volunteered. “All you’ll have to do is tug me along.”

  An arrow thunked into the side of the boat. I heard Ewan set down the oars and then what sounded like the heavy fabric of his cloak falling as he readied himself to jump into the fathomless depths.

  Not as good at following orders, even when I knew they were sound, I turned in Jamie’s general direction. “We’re still too close to the castle. If we swim back to shore, they’ll easily overtake us on foot.”

  “There’s a small island just ahead. It’s where I was takin’ us. If we stick to the fog, they’ll think we headed to shore. Then, when things die down a bit, we can use the small craft we keep on the island to reach the other side of the loch.”

  Blasted Scotsman! Why was he always right? I jerked the tie at my throat and pushed off my cape. “I suppose we have to abandon our shoes as well?” My boots weren’t the custom-made leather creations I’d become accustomed to, but at least they fit my feet. I kicked them off and then pulled the small vile from my pocket. Unsure where to put it, I settled on tucking it into my bra.

  The boat shook from side to side and I almost shrieked when Jamie’s face appeared through the fog, a cocky grin tilting his perfect mouth. “I willna let ye drown, love.”

  My heart convulsed in my chest. Whether from the sight of that familiar, infuriating smile, or my mounting terror, I couldn’t be sure. Perhaps a bit of both.

  I tore my eyes away from his and began to knot the laces of my boots into a handle, planning to take them with me. “I know how to swim.”

  “The tremor in yer voice says otherw—”

  A flurry of arrows hammered into the boat in quick succession. We had drifted out of the fog bank, into open water. Missiles whizzed past our heads. Oliver screamed, a shaft protruding from his shoulder.

  “Saints, Murray! Keep us steady!” Jamie dropped down next to Oliver and snapped the stick end off the arrow. “ ’Tis buried deep. Keep the head in to staunch the blood flow.”

  Ewan grabbed and then fumbled the oars, one of them slipping out of its metal ring and into the lake. I sprang over the edge, reaching for the wooden pole as it floated away. I’d almost reached the tip when someone yanked me back by my shirt. I spun around, screeching, “I almost had it!”

  Jamie tugged me into the middle of the boat and then pointed. “Look.”

  At least twenty guards stood on the shoreline where we’d pushed into the lake, reloading their bows. At that close range they’d see us enter the water and could pick us off one at a time. But we had to try to make it to the fog. My throat tightening with fear, I gave the order, “Everyone jump in different directions, then swim under the water as long as you can. Jamie, take Oliver.” The arrows flew, smacking all around us. “Now!”

  Not giving myself a second to think, I wrapped the laces of my boots around my left hand and leapt into the lake. Water enveloped me with muscle-numbing cold and I sank like a rock. My ears filled with pressure and I opened my eyes to solid black. Deaf and blind, it was like floating in deep space. Forcing down my paralyzing fear, I swam with no idea if I headed up, down, or sideways. I heard arrows slice through the water, losing speed but still lethal.

  If I surfaced, the archers would have an easy target, but my lungs squeezed, already begging for air. Death by drowning or an arrow to the face—neither option sounded appealing.

  And then the water lit up like dawn. As a moth drawn to a bug zapper, I swam toward the light and popped up with a gasp. Streaks of fire arched overhead. Treading water, I turned in a circle and searched for the others.

  “Vee!”

  I swam toward the sound of his voice. “Jamie!”

  I rounded the back of the boat and met his grinning face, eyes sparking gold as more flames flew overhead. “The cavalry has arrived.”

  “What?”

  His free hand, the one not holding Oliver, found my arm under the water and turned me to face the source of our rescue. Like something out of a movie, two large boats floated nearby filled with men and women, shooting flame-tipped arrows at our attackers on shore. Legs braced wide, the archers streamed an almost constant barrage of missiles, lit and fed to them by a row of people seated in back. “Duck boats. They snuck across the loch under camouflage. Who else knew ye were comin’ to the castle tonight?”

  “Analisa.” The brilliant girl must have planned on following us all along.

  “Hurry!” Fergus’s voice boomed across the water as he loaded a bow. “We’ve got ye covered, but our arrow supply is no’ endless.”

  Clearly
, Fergus hadn’t spotted Jamie floating in the water beside me, or he’d be freaking out for a different reason.

  Bands of light smudged my vision, like the aftereffect of fireworks as we swam through the glowing water to the waiting vessels. Ahead, Ewan pulled himself onto a boat, and hands tugged him the rest of the way out of the lake. The return fire from shore had dwindled to almost nothing. We reached the first boat and hands reached down to lift Oliver. I pushed wet hair off my face and turned to Jamie with my first genuine smile in weeks. “Are you ready to come back from the dead?”

  Jamie’s eyes locked with mine, and I read something raw and intense in his gaze before he hooked a hand behind my neck and pulled me close. Our bodies sealed together as he pressed his lips to mine in a single, searing kiss. When he pulled back, I felt the heat of his words against my mouth, “I would die a thousand deaths, if it meant coming back to you.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Jamie

  A gentle wind caressed my skin as I sat by the banked fire enjoying the sensation of being warm for the first time in ages. Freedom tasted sweet like primrose, and alive, like . . . spring. No sign of the blizzard conditions that had plagued Doon before my capture. Which meant my queen had found her strength, despite our divided nation. Despite camping in the forest, hiding from her greatest enemy. Despite believing me dead.

  Pride swelled in my chest. I’d always told her she was stronger than she knew. The Protector would not have chosen her otherwise. But a small part of me grieved that she’d awoken to her potential without me. Not because she’d done it on her own; I just would’ve liked to have seen it.

  “So, I’m curious.” Fergus lowered his enormous frame onto the other end of the log, and I felt my seat rise a bit from his weight. I stoked the fire with a long stick, sparks flurrying into the misty air, and waited for my old friend to continue.