Forever Doon (21 page)

Sometime later, after Vee and the MacCraes had spoken to
everyone individually, I nibbled on my supper ration of half a stale roll and some dubious dried meat, and my mind wandered to my own star-crossed love story. I thought I'd done well in the recent battle with Addie's guards, shown that I could handle myself . . . until Duncan had called me off. That moment and his lack of confidence in my fighting ability continued to fester, fueling my ascent to the cliff. Now in the dimly lit space, it was a six-foot, three-and-one-half-inch tall pooka standing between us.

Scanning the crowd for the shadow who stood head and shoulders above the rest, I walked over to where Duncan chatted with a group of men and thumped him on the bicep. “Can we talk?”

Then I turned and wove my way through the large cave toward the back, in search of a little privacy. My heart felt like it was about to beat out of my chest. But as much as I dreaded the impending confrontation, I couldn't allow us to remain in limbo as danger grew all around us.

Ducking into a small recess off to the side of the main grotto, I waited for Duncan to join me. In the space between one breath and the next, he stopped beside me. In the gloom, I rummaged through my bag until I felt a small box.

Inside was a folded scrap of plaid paper, a silly memento I handed to him. “Here.”

“What's this?” I watched as he unfolded the paper and then looked to me for an explanation.

“It's your heart,” I said without preamble. “I'm giving it back to you.”

“I dinna want it back.” He shoved the paper back into my hand and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Then what do you want? 'Cause I've been trying to figure that out. You don't want your heart; you don't want me. Do you want me to go away?”

The tension in the darkened alcove was palpable, like an impending thunderstorm or the moments preceding the opening night of a play that's had a bad tech rehearsal. Unable to take the silence, I continued to force the conversation. “Say something. What do you want from me?”

“I want you ta not fight,” he hissed. “I want to chain you up in this cave an' leave you here until the battle's over!”

My eyes began to sting as my vision turned glassy—but I refused to cry. Instead, I let the emotion fuel my anger. “You don't want me fighting by your side? Fighting to save Doon?”

His response spewed forth in a heated rush. “Nay. I do, it's jus' . . . if you or Jamie should get inta trouble in battle—I dinna want to have ta choose which one to save!”

I crossed my arms, mirroring his posture. “I guess you won't have to now that we're broken up.”

Duncan snorted. “I never broke up wi' you. You're the one who got angry an' broke up wi' me.”

“No. You got mad and broke up with me.” Suddenly, it hit me. His messed-up, macho, boy logic. “So we're not broken up?”

He shrugged. “I guess not . . . unless you want it to be so.”

I gave him an ineffective shove as the emotions of the last couple weeks boiled over. “You self-righteous, stupid ogre. We are stronger together. Haven't you figured that out yet? You've heard that saying about a cord of three strands not being easily broken? Well, you, me, Jamie, Vee, Fergus, Fiona, and the others, we're a tapestry that the witch cannot unravel. So quit being all noble and martyr-like and, for heaven's sake, stop being mad at me. 'Cause I love you!”

“I love you too!” he leaned into my face and barked.

“I know!” Our eyes locked, like lovers from a Noel Coward play, both too stubborn to show vulnerability.

Unable to say more, I turned and stalked away. Determined
to find a quiet corner in this madhouse to decompress, I stomped through the crowd. I got halfway across the cave before Vee intercepted me. “Ken, what's the matter?”

“Duncan and I made up,” I growled.

“Oh, that's good . . . right?” Her response took some of the heat from my agitated state.

“Yes.” I glared at her for a half a second before cracking a smile. Had I really just had a make-up fight with my boyfriend?

Y
ou know ye cannot win . . . I will take everythin',”
the voice hissed through my dreams, sinking deep into my heart.

“Your people will die. Your kingdom will fall.”

I fought to wake up, but the bonds of sleep held me tight.

“And when ye are gone, my weak little queen, your prince will rule by my side. It is what he wants. What he longs for, but cannot say aloud. We've shared experiences that you could not possibly understand.

“I've marked him as my own. Can ye no' tell that he is different? He's not your Jamie anymore . . . He's mine . . . body and soul. Everything ye have is mine . . .”

I jerked awake and blinked at the falling ceiling, its spindly fingers stretching down to crush me. My breath came in short gasps until I remembered we were in Oxter's Cave, the “fingers” stalactites reflecting the glow of multiple campfires. My pulse calmed, but the voice from my dreams still echoed in my head.
Her
voice. The witch. She'd gotten into my head once, long ago, but I couldn't be sure if it had truly been her or my own fears.

I turned over on my pallet of blankets. Jamie lay beside me on his back, eyes closed, hands folded on his chest, dark lashes resting against his cheeks. I studied his profile; strong, straight nose, perfect lips, square jaw covered in light brown stubble. His hair had grown enough that one stubborn strand curled behind his left ear.

Biting my lip, I reached toward him, my fingers tingling in anticipation. My heart beat faster, my skin flushing. But I stopped. Terrified to wake him and see his cold gaze and hear his emotionless voice, I pulled my hand back and tucked it under my cheek. The voice was right . . . He
had
changed.

Jamie twitched, his brows lowered, and his hands clenched into fists. Lips moving, his unintelligible words became more urgent. I reached over and laid my hand on his chest. His heart slammed against my fingers as his limbs began to jerk. I scooted closer and whispered in his ear, “Shh . . . Jamie, it's okay. I'm here . . . you're safe.”

“Let me out . . .” Jamie thrashed and I pulled away. “Please . . . no . . . ye're no' Verranica!”

“Jamie, wake up.” I leaned over him and shook his arm. “It's just a dream.”

His eyes snapped open and locked on my face, fierce and intense, before he grabbed my shoulders and threw me down on my back. Baring his teeth, he snarled in my face, “Dinna touch me. Do ye hear me, witch?”

His eyes fathomless pools, he stared right through me.

“Ja—”

His mouth swooped down, his lips crushing mine. The kiss was demanding, almost painful, but my body didn't seem to care. Powerful yearning rocketed through me, stealing every thought but one—Jamie. I clutched his shoulders and tugged him closer. His skin burned against my fingertips and I couldn't
get enough. Slanting my mouth on his, I kissed him with every ounce of love and yearning I'd buried these long, lonely weeks.

I felt the moment he came back to me, his body melting into mine. He cupped the back of my head and took control of the kiss, slowing down to gently worship my mouth with his. Delicious sparks sizzled up from the base of my spine and I pressed into him, needing to get closer to his heat. I ran my hands over the muscles of his arms and back up to the exposed skin of his neck.

Mine.
Jamie MacCrae was mine and no shriveled hag of a witch was going to take him from me—body
or
soul. I pulled back and cradled both sides of his face, searching his gaze.

His eyes churned like a dark storm as he gasped for breath. “I dreamt I was kissin' you . . . but . . . I . . .” He rose up on one arm and raked the hair off his forehead.

I lifted on my elbows, trying to hold his attention, but his gaze shifted beyond my head, the impassive mask dropping into place over his face.

I couldn't let him slip away from me again. “What did she do to you, Jamie?”

Without looking at me, he cracked a sardonic smile. “Mind games, imprisonment, torture . . . you know, the usual witchery.”

“Don't make light of it!” I gripped his arms, digging my fingers into muscle. “Before you kissed me, you called me witch! You were still trapped in a nightmare . . .”

Several moments passed and I remained silent. Holding my breath on the hope that he would tell me of the memories that lingered just behind his eyes.

His mouth opened and then closed. He searched my face, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “You're bleedin'.”

He reached out and brushed a finger over my swollen lips
and then stared at the red stain there. His brows lowered, then his eyes snapped back to mine in horror. “I made ye bleed.”

I licked the metallic taste from my top lip. “It's nothing. Really. Probably just left over from the fight with Addie's guards yesterday.”

He shrugged off my hands and rolled away. “Maybe it's no' a good idea for ye to be alone wi' me.”

I sat up to find him tugging on his boots. “Jamie, I wanted you to kiss me, okay?”

“But I didna have to hurt ye, did I?”

A shadow loomed over my shoulder and I looked up to find Eòran, arms crossed over his chest, feet wide. He couldn't speak, but he didn't need to; his body language said it all. My guard hadn't left me alone for more than five minutes since his return to Doon. But at that moment, I didn't want him hovering like a nanny.

“Eòran, I'm fine. Give us a minute.”

Jamie sprang to his feet. “The sun will rise soon. We need to go.” Without looking at me, he strode away.

As we made our way down the mountain, I moved from group to group talking to individuals about their family members and asking what their duties had been at their own camp, so I could assign them a job at base camp. Housing would be an issue, but the weather had turned again, the sun shining strong and warm with a slight cool breeze. Sleeping under the stars would no longer be a danger.

Eòran had gone ahead with a scouting team, but Ewan shadowed me everywhere I walked, and I wondered if my guard had put him up to it. I hadn't seen Jamie since we'd left the cavern.
He'd organized the descent down the cliff face and then disappeared. At least Duncan and Kenna had found their rhythm. When she'd told me they made up, she still seemed angry, but now, they walked just ahead of me, hands linked and smiling.

My heart warmed and ached at the same time. What had happened with Jamie this morning had been another setback in a long line of obstacles with him.

“Yer Majesty.” Ewan jogged up beside me. “May I speak freely?”

I glanced at my friend, red hair flopping over direct green eyes, and something in the set of his mouth bothered me. I'd never really seen him angry and I wasn't sure this was it, but I hesitated before replying, “Yes.”

“Something is no' right with Laird Jamie.”

Didn't I know it. But I would defend him until my dying breath. “The prince was kidnapped by the witch . . . we don't know what he's been through, Ewan.”

“Well, I realize tha'. But he . . . well . . . I dinna think . . .”

I stepped over a small fissure in the earth before glancing at my friend. He ran a hand over his head and gripped the back of his neck—clearly unused to being at a loss for words. I knew Ewan had developed feelings for me, but I'd figured it was a passing crush, and once I discovered Jamie alive I hadn't given it a second thought. Until now.

Not wishing to hurt him, I searched for the right words to let him down easy. “Ewan, Jamie and I have a Calling. Surely you know what that means.”

“Aye, I do. But he doesna treat ye right!”

A few faces turned in our direction at his raised voice. “Ewan, please! Maybe we should talk about this later.”

“Nay.” His voice had quieted, but was no less passionate. “He's sullen and angry and he ignores ye, but worse, I can tell
he's hidin' something. I've known him all my life and this just isna him!”

My chest squeezed at his words. The witch's voice echoed back from my dreams.
He is mine . . .
I set my jaw and focused on the blue sky peeking through the clouds. I
would not
let her into my head.

“And where is he now?” The boy had leaned close to my ear. When I snapped around, he pulled back, but his gaze locked on mine. “I fear he has been bewitched somehow.”

My gut clenched as Ewan's word confirmed my own fears. I looked straight ahead, and thought for several moments before I spoke. “Did you see where he went?”

“I was one o' the last to scale down the cliff face. He pulled up the ropes and I never saw him come down.”

It was curious, but I still believed in Jamie. Regardless of what Addie had done that he wasn't telling me or my own reservations about his behavior.

“Look, Ewan, I appreciate your concern, but I'm sure Jamie has his reasons for taking off on his own.”

“He did.” The deep voice gave me a start, and I whirled to find Jamie right behind us.

“Where did you come—”

“I need ye to come with me. Now.”

“Wait.” Ewan gripped my forearm. “Yer Majesty, I dinna think ye should go on your own.”

Jamie inserted himself between us, forcibly removed Ewan's hold on me, and then looped his arm around Ewan's shoulders. He spoke low, but I could still make out the words. “Ye are no' Queen Verranica's guard, or her betrothed. She is none o' your concern, Murray. However, she is mine. Now leave off!” Jamie released him with a push and Ewan stumbled into a group of men who laughingly steadied him on his feet.

“Best no' to anger the laird, young Ewan!” The blacksmith smacked him on the back so hard, he stumbled again.

“Jamie!” Worried he might snap, I followed, reaching an arm out to . . . what? If he decided to hurt Ewan, there wasn't much I could do to stop him.

He returned to me with a rueful grin, and I let out a sigh of relief.

Looping his arm around my waist, he guided me quickly through the slow-moving crowd. “Sorry, love. I've needed to do tha' for several days now.”

“If it makes you feel better. But there's nothing going on between us.”

“I believe ye, but that doesn't mean I have to sit back and let him disparage me to ye.”

“He's only watching out for me.” He lifted a brow in challenge and I decided to table that conversation for later. I asked, “What's going on? Where did you go?”

“I need to show ye,” he insisted as he made a beeline for Kenna and Duncan.

When we reached them, Jamie gripped his brother's shoulders and said a few urgent words close to his ear. A few minutes later, Jamie led Duncan, Kenna, and myself through the forest at a breakneck pace. It seemed we were headed back the way we'd come. Following a sharp switchback trail, we were forced to climb single file. Jamie took my hand and practically ran the rest of the way. “Almost there!”

We reached the top and burst onto a ridge, the world opening up below us. Fallow fields bisected by low walls and rushing streams stretched out like a patchwork quilt of browns, greens, and blues. In the distance, the castle turrets rose above the trees. The view was breathtaking, but I knew that wasn't why Jamie'd brought us here.

“Wow,” Kenna said under her breath.

Jamie stepped up beside me. “I was scoutin' the woods for guards and a place to camp, if tha' became necessary, and I found . . .” His voice trailed off as he took a tubular object out of his pocket and held it to his eye. He muttered a curse and handed me the small telescope. “Look, just north o' the brook.”

I focused on what appeared to be a field of tilled earth, but even before I raised the spyglass, I could discern an undulating movement, like worms churning up the soil and figures that looked strangely humanlike, but couldn't've been. Their shape was . . . off. Squinting into the magnifying lens, it took me a moment to find the correct spot. I focused on a patch of ground that churned from underneath, the soil spewing up until a skeletal hand broke the surface, reaching for the sky. “What in the—”

I swung the glass in a slow arc to take in the rest of the field. Skeletons were emerging from the ground. One, half out to his waist, pushed against the dirt with both hands. Another got stuck, snapped off its leg, and then clawed itself the rest of the way out. The creatures who had made it out stood in rows, shoulders slumped, like marionettes without a master. There were rows upon rows of them . . . “Oh no, no, no . . .”

Jamie took the glass from my trembling hands and handed it to Duncan.

“What is it, Vee?” Kenna had slipped her arm through mine and gave me a little squeeze.

I faced my best friend, unable to disguise my panic. “Skeletons . . . zombies . . . I don't know what they are! Gideon said she would do this, but I didn't think . . . this is just crazy!”

Kenna released me and marched over to snatch the telescope from Duncan. “Let me see that.” She let out a curse of her own and then said, “Well, I guess that guard made it back to the castle.”

“That's why I felt her rage last night in my dreams.”

“Aye,” Jamie agreed as he took my hand in his and met my gaze, communicating something I couldn't quite grasp. “I felt it too.”

“But, how do you think she's doing this? According to Gideon, she needs souls to raise an undead army. The camp is heavily guarded and the people from the cave are with us. So where did she get the souls?” My words dropped off as the realization slammed into me.

Jamie's stricken eyes met mine. “She must be usin' the souls of Doonians who pledged to her. Cannibalizin' them to raise the skeletons.”

“What an evil witch!” Kenna spat, but she didn't say
witch
.

I wholeheartedly agreed, but I had to force myself to think. The skeletons were immobile, but I had a feeling they wouldn't stay that way. We needed to get everyone back to base camp quickly, then get a closer look at the zombies while they were still inactive.