Forever Doon (31 page)

C
atching Vee mid-swoon, I tried to take it all in: the trumpets, the blinding gold light, and the awe-inspiring creatures heralding from the Brig o' Doon. Angels, just like the ones so many of the Destined had described seeing, lined both sides of the bridge like a celestial chorus line.

Along with the sound of trumpets, their terrible voices were lifted in song. Feeling like Dorothy and her companions about to meet the wizard, Jamie, Duncan, Vee, and I stepped onto the bridge and slowly walked to the center. Doonians and Destined, filling both sides of the riverbank, watched in breathless reverence.

Suddenly, the modern world—the tourists and the streetlamps—faded away as a voice as quiet as a blade of grass in the wind and more booming than a thousand giants pronounced, “Choose.”

My friends and I looked at each other uncertainly. “Choose what?” I asked.

“The modern world,” the voice replied. “Or a new covenant.”

As much as I vowed to accept the cost of breaching the borders, my heart leapt with this new proposition. After everything, would the Protector offer a new covenant that would safeguard the kingdom of Doon and its inhabitants from becoming the eighth wonder of the world?

Beside me, Duncan murmured, “The choice of the suspended man.”

I squeezed his hand and sought Vee's gaze. “Doon,” she said in a clear, musical voice. “I choose Doon.”

“Me too!” I added.

Jamie and Duncan spoke over one another, choosing Doon, followed by Fiona and Fergus. One after the other, both Destined and Doonian made their choice—all of them chose the new Covenant—until a last person, a boy with blue-and-green streaks in his hair, stepped forward.

“That's the magician dude,” I whispered to Vee. “The one with his own YouTube channel.”

Eyes shimmering with the force of his conviction, he addressed the queen. “Your Majesty, have you thought about how we're going to explain what happened here today? The modern world will be looking for a plausible explanation. And I think I have one to offer.”

Vee nodded. “Go on.”

“You see, Majesty, I'm an illusionist. Although I'm only eighteen, I'm fairly well known. And if you'll allow it, I'll take credit for this. I will make Doon my greatest illusion. If people think it was a magic stunt, they'll be more likely to let it go. News will eventually fade away, and this will become part of urban legend, just like the story of the bridge before.”

Vee gawked at him. “You'd sacrifice your Calling to protect Doon.”

The boy tucked a wayward strand of colorful hair behind
his ear with a shrug. “I think this is what I've been Called to do. I'm supposed to protect Doon from the outside. Is that okay?”

“Yes.” She hugged the boy. “And thank you!”

We watched Jeremy walk resolutely into the mists toward Alloway. Once he had disappeared, my friends and I joined hands and set off in the opposite direction with assurance of a new Covenant and the promise of a bright future.

S
unlight tumbled through the leaves, creating muted patterns on the carpet of moss under my feet as I trudged up the steep trail. A sweet, verdant breeze pushed the hair off my face, causing me to pull the shawl tighter around my shoulders. Morning in Doon was my favorite time for a leisurely stroll, but this day I was headed toward the hunting lodge on a mission. Jamie had been conspicuously absent the last two weeks, showing up for the occasional dinner peckish and exhausted. Whenever I'd question him about his day, his answers were evasive at best, and the night before, he'd fallen asleep at the table with his head propped in his hand.

The business of rebuilding the kingdom kept us both busy, and Jamie had taken a special interest in getting our latest Destined settled into their new lives; not to mention the fresh crop of kids he'd recruited for the Crew.

However, his recent preoccupation and secretive smiles told me he was up to something unrelated to restoring order to his land. As I still viewed any surprise as a bad thing, a few days
ago I'd begun systematically searching the kingdom. The exercise and the alone time gave me an opportunity to reflect on what we'd been able to do and where we were going next.

It was amazing what we'd been able to accomplish in the six months since we'd defeated the witch. The Protector, in his infinite mercy, had reestablished Doon's separation from the modern world. The first covenant had been formed against an immediate threat—an evil witch. This time we'd been shielded from a much subtler, but no less sinister fate: the corrupting influence of modern civilization on the kingdom and its people. Or as Kenna put it, becoming
Brig o' Doon World
. . . or worse.

There were still so many things we didn't know about the new covenant–would Doonians still experience Callings? Would there still be a Centennial? Would the portal ever open again? Since the battle, the Rings of Aontacht had remained silent—not even giving off so much as a spark—and I wondered if they'd served their ultimate purpose.

All the damage from Addie's black magic had been restored, all traces of her spells erased—except for the numerous friends we'd lost in the battle. Their loss had left a permanent hole in all our lives.

Gideon and his staunch determination to protect Doon at any cost. Calum, whose animated narrative was lost to us forever. Analisa, who had challenged and supported me in perfect measure. And of course, Ewan. I'd known him the least amount of time, and yet missed him most of all.

I kicked a pinecone with the toe of my boot and braced for the blinding pain to close my throat, but it never came. Time had begun to heal the open wounds of grief. Day by day, I was learning to live with gratitude that we'd been given the chance to build a new world.

My only lingering regret was that with the portal closed, I no longer had a way to bring Sofia's Called mate across the bridge. Kenna, refusing to believe that not everyone has a happy ending with a bow around it, flung her in the path of every eligible Destined boy in the futile hope that she'd find “the one.”

When she wasn't busy dodging Ken's setups, Sofia threw her energy into restoring the kingdom with a clarity of purpose that bordered on frightening. Every time I turned around she was there working to help someone else get their life back. When I pulled her aside to discuss it, all she would say was that she trusted the Protector had a plan.

A tiny fur-covered animal squeaked across my path and I paused, took out my flask of water, and turned to look back at how far I'd come. Raising a hand to shield my eyes, my breath caught at the sight. The bucolic scene was a far cry from the cracked, concrete landscape of my childhood. Hills rolled out below me covered in waves of golden gorse and wild heather, giving way to a patchwork of flatter geometric fields. A surge of puffy, white sheep returned from the high pasture, and just beyond, the spire of the Ault Kirk rose above the colorful buildings of the village.

Doonians, like tiny dolls, moved around the marketplace. But they were not faceless figures to me, as I knew every one of them by name; had fought beside them, cried beside them, and worked beside them. No longer their American queen, I was one of them. The fragile girl who'd crossed the bridge searching for her prince had found more than romance—of course, Jamie was the love of my life, but I'd also found a family, faith, and purpose.

From far below, a strain of fiddle and pipe caught the wind and wove through the trees. Joining my people in spirit, I
picked up my skirt and danced a quick jig, swishing the fabric around my calves. A giggle bubbled out of my throat as I twirled in a quick circle.

“Tha' be the most bonny sight I've seen in days.”

Choking on a laugh, I spun to face my prince leaning against a shade tree, arms crossed over his chest. Broad and strong, disheveled gold hair sticking out at odd angles, his tan cheeks streaked with dirt, he still managed to look magnificent. With determined strides, I climbed the path toward him. His dark eyes glinted, before a wide smile spread across his face, pulling out the dimple in his right cheek.

Ignoring the funny things the sight of him was doing to my heart, I poked a finger into his chest. “What are you up to, Laird MacCrae?”

He raised a brow. “
Up to
?”

“Don't play dumb! You know what I mean. What have you been doing every day?”

Jamie raked a hand through his hair, taming one side. “I dinna know what ye're referrin' to.”

“You know I hate surprises.” With a frustrated growl, I balled my fist and hit his arm as hard as I could. It was like punching rock.

He rubbed his bicep. “Och, lass, ye pack a wallop for such a tiny thing.”

Covertly rubbing my stinging knuckles on the inside of my elbow, I crossed my arms again, and tapped my foot in impatience. “I order you to show me what you've been doing . . . as your queen.” I lifted my chin and arched a brow, unleashing the Evil Highney.

“Oh do ye, now?” His gaze intent, Jamie pushed off the tree and took three long strides toward me.

With a half laugh, half squeal, I backpedaled fast, but he
reached out and clasped my arms, stopping my retreat. He tugged me against his chest and then lowered his mouth to mine. I raised my arms and threaded my fingers in his hair, the world spinning around me as his lips ignited sparks all over my body. It took every ounce of my willpower to end the kiss and push out of his arms. “Your distractions won't work this time!”

“Then let me try again.” He quirked a wicked grin and reached for me. “I know I can do better, Yer Highness.”

As tempting as that was, I shook my head. “No. Show me now.”

Our eyes clashed as we stared each other down. Birds tweeted, crickets chirped, wind rattled the leaves, and finally he huffed out a sigh. “Fine. If you really must know . . .” He pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket. “And knowin' you, I'll get little peace until ye do.” He spun me around and wrapped the cloth around my eyes. “Ye'll need ta let me blindfold ye.”

As he tightened the knot at the back of my head, I blinked and strained my eyes, but couldn't see a thing. “Wait! I didn't agree—”

“Hush! If ye insist on ruining the surprise, ye'll let me have my way on this.” He looped his arm around my waist and guided me up the trail.

“Do ye remember the mornin' after our night in the huntin' lodge?”

That twenty-four hours—our first kiss, the revelation that I loved him enough to let him go, and watching him be crowned king while believing the title would separate us forever—was burned into my brain. “Yes.”

Jamie's grip tightened on my waist. “Step up over this log.”

Blindly, I lifted my foot, probing the air with my toes until I felt something solid. I tapped my foot against the log,
measuring its height. Impatient, Jamie scooped me into his arms and continued on. “What about on our way down the mountain, when I guided you off the path?”

The sound of voices and banging filled the air, followed by a grating noise like someone cutting wood. I searched my memory of that long-ago day, but my overwhelming heartache that those would be our last moments together clouded everything. “Um . . .”

As we walked, the construction sounds grew louder, punctuated by occasional laughter.

“I teased you about needin' a wee bit o' privacy if I should take a queen . . .”

Then it hit me. The spot with the spectacular view where I'd suggested someone should build a house. “Jamie . . . you didn't!” Realizing we'd stopped moving and the noise had quieted, I reached up and tugged the blindfold off my head.

Blinking the sun from my eyes, it took me a moment to see the cabin made of wood and stone, perched on the edge of the mountain. My friends and half the Crew stood outside of the cottage holding tools and grinning from ear to ear—Gabby, Sofia, Duncan, Eòran, Cheska, Fergus, and even Fiona with her “wee” baby bump ballooning out her skirt. Blaz sat beside my pregnant friend, his tongue lolling out of his enormous head. My dog had taken to following Fiona around, as if he sensed the tiny life within her needed his protection.

Jamie set me on my feet and then leaned close to my ear. “The house is yer wedding gift, love. A place of our own.”

“No' until after the wedding, mind,” Eòran admonished with a chuckle. Since my guard had regained his power of speech, he rarely shut up—especially where my virtue was concerned.

Lachlan and the Rosetti twins waved, drawing my attention to where they perched on the roof.

“How did you . . . I . . . a place of our own?” Words tumbled out of my mouth as I wiped my wet cheeks.

“Aye, for when ye need some peace and quiet ta read, or just be.” My prince, who was soon to become my co-ruler and king officially, tucked me against his side and pressed a kiss on the top of my head. “This is a place where ye dinna need to be a queen.”

Kenna poked her head out of a side window and waved a paintbrush dripping dark stain onto the grass.

“You knew about this?” I accused with a laugh.

“Of course I did! You helped build my theater, I couldn't miss out on bringing your dream to life.”

My vision swam as I rushed forward and embraced my best friend. Only she knew how much my chaotic childhood had made me long for a safe haven, a home where I could cross the threshold and put distance between myself and the world; a place of comfort and security.

“Ekk . . . Ninja girl, you're about to cut me in half.”

I let her go as Jamie chastised his construction crew. “What are ye all starin' at? Back ta work!”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Duncan quipped as he snapped his brother a salute and then turned to me with a teasing grin. “He's only buildin' ye a house to keep up wi' me.”

“I'm no' so ostentatious.” Jamie rammed his fist into Duncan's shoulder. “If I'd wanted to outdo ye,
bráthair
, I would've had to build her a cathedral.”

Duncan returned his brother's punch with a shove then rubbed his arm and gave Jamie a nod, accepting the compliment.

Jamie was right. Kenna's Broadway Theater had been an effort of love by the entire kingdom; a project to bring us together after our losses. Everyone had a job, from sewing the
massive curtains to constructing the elaborate pulley system, or staining the scrollwork that surrounded the stage like an enormous frame—the names of those we'd lost in battle carved into the curves and eddies of the design. The resulting structure was nothing short of spectacular.

And there hadn't been a dry eye in the house during Kenna's inaugural one-woman show. I'd seen her perform many times, but the naked adoration on Duncan's face as he'd watched her had tugged at my heart. Perhaps he shared my memories because he leaned down, cradled the back of my best friend's head, and kissed her thoroughly.

“I need ta get back to work, love. An' so does my besotted brother, if he knows what's good for him,” Jamie threatened as I turned to face him. “It's no' finished, but go inside and let Mackenna show ye around.”

Not ready to let him go, I grabbed his hand, emotion thickening my voice. “What would I be without you?”

He lowered his eyes to the ground, a lock of hair falling over his forehead as color stained the slopes of his cheekbones. When he looked up, his gaze drilled into mine and a muscle rippled in his cheek. “Lost. Just as I would be.”

“Well, I'm glad we never have to find out.” I rose on my toes and planted a quick kiss on his mouth, before turning to go into the cottage.

The door stood open as I stepped onto the small covered porch where Fiona sat on a bench planting bluebells and yellow primrose in a flowerbox. “Any names yet, Fiona?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “If tha' dunderheaded husband o' mine suggests
Eunice
one more time . . .”

“Do you think it's a girl, then?” I could already picture the baby with wisps of strawberry blonde hair, pink cheeks, and Fergus' clear-blue eyes.

“I couldna say, but—” Her entire face appeared to glow from within as she placed a hand on the rounded curve of her belly. “Either way, this baby is perfect.”

“Vee!” Kenna called from inside. “Come here, you've got to see this!”

Giving Fiona's shoulder a squeeze, I said, “Don't work too hard, that baby needs all of your strength.”

“No worries. It's nap time for me soon.”

Following Kenna's voice, I stepped through the doorway and my breath caught in my chest. A wall of windows at the back of the cabin made it feel as if it were suspended in the sky. I turned a slow circle to see the room; a small kitchen, a wood-burning fireplace made of stone, and a set of narrow steps leading to a loft that I assumed would contain the bedroom.