Forever Doon (18 page)

N
ot so much as a twinkle.”

I stood in the center of the newly restored Brig o' Doon, shaking the silver and emerald ring on my hand and hoping for a miracle. One that would get us to Doon, reunite me with my best friend, and confirm that Jamie had been saved. Overcast skies blanketed us with misty rain that coated my bare arms. Little droplets flung in all directions as I shook my hand again.

Nada
. Frustration hitched in my chest as I stared at the stone. I wasn't sure what I was expecting—it wasn't like the ring had a supernatural short that could be fixed with a little rigorous jiggling.

Duncan stood on my right side. Despite the fact that he was close enough to touch, the boy kept his hands to himself—a wise move considering his recent confession. The balance of our small crossing party, Alasdair and Eòran, waited to my left.

Throughout the afternoon I'd successfully avoided him by staying in my bedroom and skipping meals. But now, as
he stood next to me on the bridge, I could feel the distance between us as insurmountable as a fractured portal.

I looked up and accidentally met his dark scowl. Shifting my gaze to the vicinity of his recently injured bicep, I said, “I told Vee we were coming and to meet us at the bridge.”

“And you told her that ye were having a Calling?”

“I tried.” Crossing my arms over my chest against the chill, I continued to speak to his shoulder. “That part got a little muddled.”

“Never mind,” he stated. “All that matters is that you can open the portal.”

From his expression—equal parts expectancy, urgency, and frustration—I concluded that was my cue to try again. But I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. Each time I'd crossed the Brig o' Doon, the rings had done their thing, regardless of what I wanted.

Saying a mental
abracadabra
, I waved my free hand over the ring. When that did nothing, I mentally recited the lyrics to “Defying Gravity,” which seemed fitting for the circumstances. And finally, I closed my eyes and in true Veronica Welling fashion summoned my inner Jedi to will the ring into action. Apparently, I was not strong in the Force. “It's not working . . .”

“Mackenna—try again.”

Duncan's stern voice made me want to throat punch him. Making a fist, I thrust my hand out in front of me. “Work, you stupid piece of junk! Open the portal.”

The mist picked up, but that was the only change. Tears began to fill my eyes. Unwilling to let him see me cry, I stalked away from the others. “Let's just forget it, okay? We're never going to make it back.”

“I beg ta differ, child.” Mrs. Fairshaw's voice echoed from the riverbank as she and Fiona appeared at the mouth of the
bridge. Behind them, barely visible through the mist, stood several hundred people, the Destined newcomers arm in arm with the native Doonians.

As I stared at all the smiling faces, the emerald in my ring began to flicker. It was just the faintest spark of light, but still it was something. “How did you know to come?”

From behind me, Alasdair chuckled. “I sent fer reinforcements. I suspected we'd have need o' them.”

I swung around to confront the old man. “Why—I mean, what made you think to bring them to the bridge?”

Alasdair stepped toward me and placed a withered hand on my shoulder. “Lass, don't ye know that everything happens fer a reason—even when it defies our comprehension? When yon newcomers began ta cross ta Scotland, they each brought a fragment o' the portal with them. However, they didn't just appear fer the sake o' restoring the Brig o' Doon.

“Each one possesses a special gift or skill we'll have need of in the upcoming battle—but alas, their role is even more significant than that. These Destined are Doonians sure as you an' Queen Veronica. Have ye not wondered at how easily they accepted their Callings?”

I shook my head. Honestly it hadn't occurred to me. I'd been too preoccupied with my own drama.

He raised his brows in mild reproach. “I've spoken ta each an' every one—an' the one similar thing between them is the feeling that they were meant ta do more with their lives. There's unity when like-minded beliefs lead ta a shared cause an' great power in that unity.” He paused. “What I'm tryin' ta say, lass, is that we're no' meant ta do this alone. We need ta help one another—it's our only hope.”

With that, he nodded to Caledonia, who reached for her
daughter's hand and then declared in her clear, unwavering brogue, “For Doon!”

Fiona, in turn, grasped Cheska's hand. “For Doon.”

Echoing the words, Cheska took the hand of Ezekiel, who took the hand of his brother, Jerimiah. Both boys said in unison, “For Doon.”

The pattern continued with each person grasping the hand of the one next to them and pronouncing their allegiance with two simple words: “For Doon.” Like the turning of a switch, my ring glowed a steady green that grew with each declaration.

When the chain was completed and the final person had spoken their oath, Alasdair grabbed Eòran's and Duncan's hands. “Fer Doon,” he uttered.

Duncan's severe gaze bore down on me as he threaded his fingers through mine and proclaimed, “For Doon.”

At last it was my turn. My whole body buzzed with the power of my uncle Cameron's ring and the power of the restored portal. I thrust my fist in the air. “For Doon!”

The green glow emanating from my hand turned white. The beam burned though the mist as Alloway and the people on the riverbank disappeared. Instead of the rainy night, it was a clear spring morning. In the distance, the proud turrets of Castle MacCrae stood out against the purple mountains. And at the opposite end of the bridge, with a radiant smile on her face and her arms open wide, stood the true queen of Doon and my best friend in both worlds, to welcome me home.

A
s the glow of our rings faded, Kenna ran the rest of the way across the bridge and smashed into me. I stumbled back until a firm hand stilled my fall. Glancing over Kenna's shoulder, I saw Jamie lower his hand and then stride toward his brother. Both their eyes liquid, they embraced. Not a one-armed, tight-fisted, back-pounding guy hug, but a full-on, arms-wrapped-around-each-other, rib-cracking squeeze. Overwhelmed with emotion, I stepped back to see Kenna's face.

Tears streaked her cheeks and her body shook with sobs. “I didn't . . . think it was . . . was going to work. We rebuilt the . . . the bridge . . . and the dreams . . . and the people came, just like in
Field of Dreams
but . . . Duncan, he . . . I don't. . . .” Her head whipped around to glare at the MacCrae brothers, who had separated but were gripping onto each other's shoulders, tears freely streaming down Duncan's face.

“Shh . . .” I pulled Kenna back into my arms and stroked her hair, concerned that the deep hurt behind the look she'd given
Duncan indicated more than a passing annoyance. “You're home now. You can explain everything later.”

My own eyes were strangely dry, even as my heart felt full to bursting. I lifted a hand to wave at Eòran, who returned my greeting with a rare smile and a bow. Perhaps my reticence was due to the old man standing at the mouth of the bridge watching us all with tender affection. He looked so . . . proprietary, as if he had a right to stand on Doon's soil and share our intensely personal moment. He shifted his gaze to meet mine. Keen blue-gray eyes, a roadmap of wrinkles over his weathered face, and his animated countenance brought to mind a scene from long ago . . . a low-beamed ceiling coated with smoke and grime, the bitter taste of ale on my tongue, and the anticipation that my life would never be the same.

Slowly, I extricated myself from Kenna's arms.

The man nodded at me, and I remembered.
“This tale is not for the faint of heart, lasses.”
The Tam O'Shanter Inn. He'd told us the real story of the Brig o' Doon at the request of Ally—the pierced and glittery fashionista who'd later transformed into the Witch of Doon before my eyes.

“What did you do?” I asked Kenna before rushing toward the old man. “You're not welcome here!” I grabbed his sleeve and began to tug him back toward the mouth of the bridge, which was already fading into a ruin. I'd toss him over the edge if necessary. No way would I allow another traitor into our midst.

“Lass, I'm no' who ye think I am.”

“Don't call me lass!” I snapped at the old storyteller and raised my chin. “I'm the queen of Doon, and your time here is over.”

“One way or another,” Jamie threatened as he clutched the old man's other arm and pressed a short blade into his back.

Eòran appeared between us and the bridge, his arms crossed over his boulder-like chest, and shook his head emphatically.

“Get out of my way,” Jamie growled as he rammed a shoulder into my guard. Eòran stumbled back before turning an irate scowl on Jamie and yanking a knife from his belt.

“Wait, it's okay!” Kenna shouted as she and Duncan rushed toward us.

Dark rage flashed across Jamie's face as he smashed his fist into Eòran's mouth, snapping the guard's head back.

“Whoa!” Duncan rushed in between the two of them, bracing a hand on each of their chests to keep them apart. “I can explain.”

Kenna stepped up and placed her hands on the old man's thin shoulders, halting my attempt to drag the betrayer back to the bridge.

I released his jacket and whirled toward Duncan. “Start talking.”

After ordering Eòran to stand down, Duncan took Jamie by the arm and turned him to face the old man. “This is Alasdair MacCrae, our kinsman.”

Jamie crossed his arms over his chest and leaned into Alasdair's face with narrowed eyes. “I dinna care if ye're the sainted Bruce himself. Why does the queen no' trust ye?”

“ 'Tis quite the tale, Jamie,” Duncan said. “We can explain on our way—”

The old man's eyes warmed. “So this is yer brother. He's alive!”

Jamie pulled back, but his posture remained tense and he turned to me with brows raised in question.

“It's not so difficult to explain. I met Alasdair through Ally, who turned out to be the witch in disguise.”

A muscle in Jamie's jaw jumped as he turned to Duncan. “Ye'll explain now.”

And so they did. A crazy tale about how Alasdair, fearing for
his life, had fled across the Brig o' Doon at the exact moment the Miracle shielded the kingdom. He'd been trapped on the bridge and the Protector had given him a choice—go back to Doon or leave forever. But before young Alasdair could make up his mind, the witch had snatched him into the modern world.

As Duncan finished speaking, his brows drew together, telling me he had reservations of his own. I would just have to trust he had a good reason for bringing the man with him through the portal.

“You're the Suspended man.” Jamie's arms dropped to his sides as his mouth opened in astonishment.

Alasdair gave a tight nod, clearly not proud of his legacy. “I'm also the brother to King Angus, makin' me yer many times removed grandfather.”

I shook my head. “But how are you still alive?”

“My life force was linked to the witch, trappin' me all these many centuries so close to my home and yet never able to return.”

“Why didn't you cross during one of the Centennials when the bridge was open?” I asked, still not convinced.

Jamie answered for him. “Because he couldna enter until the witch did.”

“A day I ha' longed for with both hope and fear,” Alasdair replied, almost too low to hear.

I exchanged a glance with Jamie, and then with Kenna, and we began to walk back toward the path. Blackened trees, arched and broken, littered the landscape where the Eldritch Limbus had scorched the earth as it burned away. We stepped over a narrow fissure in the ground and Duncan helped Alasdair across as Jamie answered the old man's questions about the destruction. I glanced over my shoulder to see Eòran hanging back, his eyes glued to the back of Jamie's head, distrust clear on his face.

Before I could go back and speak to him, soft fingers linked through mine and I turned to smile at my BFF. She looked different, a bit leaner and harder around the edges. But I had a more pressing question that needed answering. “How did you tell me you were coming? I woke up knowing I needed to meet you at the bridge this morning.”

“Don't you remember all of our dreams, silly? Me calling you Wonder Woman during axe-throwing practice?”

I started and stared at her hard. How had she known about that?

“The icky supply boat and me warning you that the first floor of the castle was cursed? Our conversation—”

“By the campfire in our sleepover PJs!” I finished for her, the revelation hitting me like a smack to the face. “We had a Calling?”

She smiled wide. “Have a Calling. We're connected in here.” She pointed to her chest.

And the tears finally came, rushing down my face as ugly sobs racked my chest. I'd felt alone for so many long weeks, grieving for Jamie and my best friend. Resolved to protect our people and be strong on my own. Now they were both here with me.

Kenna pulled me close and wrapped her arm around my shoulders. We'd been through so much, fought so hard for our happiness, but it still wasn't over. Kenna let me bawl, her own eyes dry now. That's how it worked with us; when one of us was weak, the other was strong. A balance I'd never truly appreciated until that moment. The thought gave me hope. Individually we were strong, but together we could do anything. Even take our kingdom back from an evil witch and an army of the undead.

I
bolted into Vee's empty teepee like a hunchback in need of sanctuary. Returning to the Doonian camp had been . . . a lot. Most everyone wanted news of their loved ones, assurances they were alive and well, messages from beyond the Brig o' Doon—but I didn't have that much to offer. Yes, we have your child. Yes, your aging mother is well. No, we haven't seen your brother or your sister.

Alasdair had immediately been accepted as long-lost royalty and was surprisingly good at passing along news from Alloway. He seemed to personally get to know everyone in the camp and had an endless supply of anecdotes to share. He was also quite skilled at comforting those to whom he could offer no news. Who knew he would be such a godsend?

As I plopped onto a floor pallet, Fergus appeared at the entryway. I'd asked him to follow me. I only had one written message, and with so many Doonians hungry for news, I had been waiting to pass the message along. He'd already been
given assurances that his wife was well, but that was as much as we'd spoken so far.

Looking like a true hunchback, the big man had to bend in half to fit inside. “How does Fiona fare?”

“She's amazing. I mean, she misses you so much, but she pretty much runs things back in Alloway.”

“And ye said that there's hundreds of Destined at your camp?”

“Yes. They're all ready to fight for Doon—and your wife is overseeing them all.”

I watched my big friend's chest swell with pride. “She's not one to remain idle when there's somethin' that needs doin'. Especially for her kingdom.”

“She sent you a note.” I reached into the gym bag I had packed for the trip and pulled out a folded sheet of pale purple paper. When I handed it to Fergus, he frowned and held it up to his nose.

“It's scented,” I explained. “Lavender like the color.”

Fergus nodded. “Aye. Do ye mind if I read Fee's letter in private?”

He actually looked concerned that I would be offended by the request, which caused me to smile. “Not at all. Go.”

With a thankful smile, he shuffled out of the teepee. And as soon as he left, Vee darted in. Since we shared a brain, I knew she'd been waiting outside for the right time to enter. Unlike Fergus, she didn't have to duck at all to fit inside.

She dropped to the pallet next to me with a frown. “Duncan says you aren't going to the mountains with us.”

Since our arrival in Doon, the ache in my heart had subsided. Now it returned so fast and hard I actually clutched my chest. “He said that?”

“What's going on with you two? Spill.” Vee arched a brow
and hiked up her chin, clearly accustomed to using the Evil Highney to her advantage.

I opened my mouth only to discover that the lump in my throat prevented me from forming words. Tears stung my eyes as I shook my head back and forth. Finally, I managed to squeak, “We broke up—I think.” With a gasp, I began to sob.

Vee pulled me to her shoulder and let me ugly cry all over her. As I sniffled and snorted, I choked out the details of my training and Duncan pulling away. “The worst part is—with Jamie alive, it doesn't even matter. Except that it does because he can't take back what he said.”

Vee rubbed my arm, comforting me like she had ever since we were little girls. “It sounds to me like it's just a misunderstanding.”

All cried out, I rested my cheek against her shoulder as she rocked us back and forth. “I don't think so. He's mad at me for forcing a conversation he didn't want to have. Sometimes when you say things, you can't unsay them. And once they're said, you understand why they weren't said before. You wish you'd never forced them to be said in the first place.”

Vee snorted in agreement, prompting me to demand that she spill as well. “Try having the opposite problem.”

She went on to tell me about Jamie's escape from beheading and recapture. “I found him when I stormed the castle—thanks for the warning, by the way. But ever since Jamie came back, he's different too . . . Not all the time—but he can change without warning. And of course he won't tell me what happened during that time with Addie.”

She lapsed into silence for a moment before continuing her rant. “I'm not just his girlfriend or his queen, we're supposed to be getting married—”

“When?” I demanded.

“Someday . . .” She paused and twirled her hand to indicate the tent and everything that implied. “Before all this, we were going to tie the knot right after the coronation. But I have no idea how we can build a life together when he won't open up to me.”

“You want to know his darkest secrets.” Vee nodded, which I felt rather than saw, and I continued. “I'd settle for knowing what Duncan's thinking at all. It's like he's made some decision that affects us both, but he won't tell me what it is.”

Vee's hand moved from my arm to smooth my hair. “He's just protecting you. And I guess, in his own way, Jamie's protecting me.” She sighed. “Why don't they understand that we need to protect one another?”

“Because boys are stupid,” I blurted out. Suddenly we were laughing like a couple of deranged lunatics—until our faces hurt and our eyes gummed shut. Wiping my nose on her shirt, I said, “I've missed you.”

Her fingers continued to thread their way through my hair. “Me too, Ken.”

After another long pause, I sat up to face her. “So how do we convince our princes to stop protecting us for our own good?”

Vee reflected for a moment. “I think we start by going to the mountains as a team.”

“But Duncan thinks it's not safe for me to go. I'm sure Jamie feels the same way about you going.”

“Actually, he won't go without me. Which is another issue all in itself.”

Jamie MacCrae wouldn't do something on his own? That
was
weird—especially where Vee's safety was concerned. But I didn't voice my shock.

“You know,” Vee drawled. Her lips twisted into a mischievous grin. “There are perks to being the queen.”

“Yeah, I get it. You can do whatever you want. Are you just trying to make me jealous?”

She shook her head, the smile growing wider. “You're the queen's BFF. So if
I
want you to come with me to the mountains, you're going to the mountains.”

“Do you want me to come?”

“Of course, Kenna. We're stronger together than apart.” She threaded her fingers through mine so that our rings touched. Which gave me an idea . . .

“Hey,” I said. “Remember when Addie had Jamie at Dunbrae Cottage, and your ring showed you where he was?”

“Yes.” Her brows scrunched together as she tried to fill in the gaps of my seemingly random segue.

“I want to try something. Come outside?”

“Okay.” Hands still clasped, I stood and pulled her up.

The afternoon had become almost warm, with the sun shining through the clouds like a long-lost friend. Camp life seemed to be in full swing and everyone scurried around with a sense of purpose. A group of women hung laundry from ropes strung between the trees. Matteo Rosetti helped his father, Mario, roast meat at the cook fire while the older Rosetti brother chopped wood with a fellow ginger nearby. The red-haired guy paused mid-swing and shot my bestie a lopsided grin that in our middle-school days would've rocketed her straight into crush-mode. She lifted her free hand and gave him a wave. He nodded and then arched the ax over his head, grunting as he let the blade fall.

“Good thing Prince
Jekyll & Hyde
isn't around to see
that
.”

“Oh, shut it. Ewan's been a good friend.” Vee tugged me toward a maze of teepees and tents.

“How good a friend?”

“You know me better than that.” And I did. No one could
replace Jamie in her heart. But something told me that Ewan didn't know her as well as I did.

When we reached the edge of the camp, Lachlan and the youngest Rosetti boy raced past chasing a leather ball with two sticks, the Rosetti twins and Blaz on their heels. Twin one and twin two, their moves eerily in sync, flanked the younger boys and stole the ball. With a growl, Lachlan ducked his head and gave chase, his feet moving so fast he looked like the Road Runner. With a powerful swing, he snatched the ball back and wacked it hard toward the makeshift goal.

“Nice move, Lachlan!” Vee called. The boy turned mid-cheer and answered his queen with a smart salute. With a grin, she saluted him back.

I marveled at the unity Vee had created in the middle of the forest, in the midst of such dire circumstances. You'd think the people were at a clan gathering instead of hiding from a wicked witch and her evil minions. “How'd you do it?”

“Do what?”

I swept my arms outward toward the camp we'd just passed through. “All of this.”

Not missing a beat, Vee answered, “Believing is half the battle. And we all believe that together we can win.”

Together . . . just like with the Destined at the bridge.
I was sensing a theme in all of this.

Taking her dainty hand in mine, I turned to face the purple peaks in the distance. Vee's thoughtful eyes followed my gaze. “What are we doing?” she asked.

“We're going to use the rings to locate the people in the mountains.” My voice sounded far more confident than I felt. So far my success wielding Uncle Cameron's ring had been spotty.

“You're brilliant!” Vee gasped. High praise, indeed, coming
from a brainiac like her. She tightened her hold on my hand so that the silver of my ring touched the gold of hers. Vee inhaled slowly and then said, “Show us our people in the mountains. That we might find them . . .”

“And save them,” I added.

Instead of the red-and-green glow that preceded the white light, the rings flashed yellow and the streak of light zigzagged through the trees. Astonished, I watched it weave across the mountains until it disappeared in a small burst on the horizon.

Vee giggled. “If I didn't know any better, I'd think the Protector of Doon had the Flash working for him. That's where the rest of the Doonians are.”

There was no way that Duncan could leave me behind now—despite how mad he was. Our gift, mine and Vee's, would enable us to find the others. And perhaps the journey would give me the opportunity to figure out where Duncan stood. But the truth of the matter was, I was scared I'd already lost him.