Destined for Doon (10 page)
Finally, I felt the solid ledge beneath my feet. Easing my canvas bag to the ground, I rolled from my stomach to my back so I could get a better look at the situation. The rock shelf appeared thick and sturdy, about four feet long but only two feet wide. The plant root that supported Duncan protruded just above the ledge on the far right. Most of it had been pulled free of its earthly tether and the rest was in danger of giving way at any moment.
Sinking into a seated position, I shimmied forward onto my stomach so that my head faced where Duncan’s hands clung to the makeshift rope. Reaching out, I grabbed his wrists and scooted forward to look down at him. “I’m here.”
Rather than gratitude, he glared up at me. “I told ye not to come.”
“And I didn’t listen.”
“When do ye ever?” he grumbled.
Cold rain pelted my back as the canyon water flowed uncomfortably around me. “We can fight, or, since I’m here, I can save your sorry butt. Your choice.”
Blinking the rain from my eyes, I surveyed the ground below. A thin crevasse bottomed out about five feet below Duncan — which would’ve been good news except it was covered in dark slime. I tracked the zombie fungus up both sides of
the ravine. As I watched, a clump of grass level with Duncan’s abdomen withered and black blossoms sprouted in their place.
“Don’t move,” I cautioned. “The limbus is all around you.”
Duncan let loose a curse — one of the only times I’d ever heard him do so. “I can see the flowers, but naught else.”
“Just stay still. I’m going to pull you up.”
“Nay, Mackenna, ’tis impossi — ”
“Shut up and let me try!” I’d had it with his noble knight routine. The only way we would survive this would be to work together. I stretched forward, trying to get a better grip on his wrists, but the mud caking my hands made it impossible to improve my hold. “I need to clean my hands off. Don’t move.”
The minute I let go, the root gave way with a sharp crack. His fingers slid through mine as I reached for him. Then he was gone.
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think . . . until I heard an agonized shout. Tears stung my eyes as I wriggled toward the edge. Just below the rock ledge was another root. Duncan’s right hand grabbed it as his body smashed against the side of the ravine and into the limbus. A nightmarish shriek echoed from his mouth as the zombie fungus wrapped around his lower half. My own screams mingled with his as I scrambled forward until my torso hung over the ledge.
I grabbed for his hand again and again, straining against the distance between us until my fingers grasped his free hand. The instant I touched him, my uncle Cameron’s ring began to glow green. In answer, the ring on Duncan’s pinky flashed a brilliant red. The ruby light surrounded him like a spotlight causing the zombie fungus to wither away and his inhuman howling to stop.
Terrified to see what the limbus had done to him, I focused on his hand in mine. He let go of the root and clung to me with
his whole being, which was much heavier than I’d realized. My arms felt as if they were being pulled from their sockets but I was determined to hold on.
Dangling halfway over the ledge, I had no leverage and no way to hoist him to safety. His weight began to pull me over. As I slipped forward, my lower half scrambled for some sort of way to brace myself.
His pale, stoic face told me he understood the situation. He showed no pain, or terror, just a soft expression that caused my heart to ache. “You have to let me go,” he said calmly.
“No!”
Despite my obstinate refusal, I couldn’t hold on much longer . . . and we both knew it. His eyes were huge and warm as he nodded. “Let me go, woman.”
My eyes began to sting, and I furiously blinked back tears. If the Protector of Doon had a purpose for us, he wouldn’t let this be the end of Duncan MacCrae. And if this was it, I wouldn’t let him face the zombie fungus alone. I’d go with him.
“Please!” Not sure who I was begging, the universe or the Protector, or any other cosmic being within earshot, I pleaded, “Please. Help us.”
The space around us began to swirl with green and red rays of light. The colors merged, bathing the canyon in brilliance. As the light surrounded me, I felt hands fasten around my ankles. A glance toward my feet confirmed I was still alone — yet not alone. I suddenly felt stronger and less afraid. Those invisible hands anchored me to the rock while other hands surrounded mine, shouldering the burden of Duncan’s weight. Glorious bodies of light lay on both sides of me to help pull the prince to safety.
With minimal effort, I hoisted Duncan onto the rock ledge where he collapsed on top of me. As soon as he was out of
danger, the sensation of unseen help vanished. For the longest, time we didn’t move. We were both filthy and exhausted, but alive.
Duncan’s forehead rested against my dirty flannel pants on the curve of my calf. His hands wrapped around my leg as if he would never let go. Perhaps he wouldn’t. My face nestled into the muddy, tattered fabric covering his thigh. Below the knee, he looked as if he’d been through an explosion. The leather of his boots had been shredded. His socks and trousers hung in rotting scraps, but the exposed skin underneath appeared miraculously unharmed.
After an indeterminable length of time, Duncan asked, “How did ye do that?” His reverent voice caused chills to tremble up my wet back.
“I — don’t know.”
Something supernatural had happened, just like it had when Vee and I first crossed the Brig o’ Doon. But I couldn’t begin to explain it beyond that.
Duncan sat up and I followed. This was the point where he would take me in his arms and forgive me. Then I could confess Weston meant nothing and I was still crazy in love with him. I would tell him how I remembered everything about our Calling and how I wouldn’t let go because I couldn’t live without him.
Instead of declarations of love, his expression hardened as he became a soldier once again. “You should have obeyed me.”
“You mean I should have let you die . . . or zombify . . . or whatever happens when the limbus gets you?” He clearly had a head injury if he thought I’d walk away because he told me to.
Duncan raked his hand through his muddy hair to create chaos. “What I mean is, you shouldna have risked your life for mine. Doon still has need of you.”
Ignoring the sharp pain in my chest, I countered by saying, “Maybe Doon still has need of
you
. Did you ever think of that?”
“Regardless of my life, we need to get you across the ravine and away from the limbus.” He stood and nodded to the edge of our perch, where black petunias were sprouting.
There was apparently no rest for the angsty. Duncan reached out to help me to my feet, but I batted his hands away. If he wanted it to be every man — or drama diva — for themselves, then so be it.
The zombie fungus had encroached at least six inches in the time that we’d been recuperating. Soon it would overtake our little ledge. “Got any bright ideas?”
He pointed across the chasm. The other side didn’t look nearly as steep. Rocks jutted out at regular intervals to create a natural staircase. “See that outcropping on the other side? It’s about five feet away. I think we can jump across. From there, the climb up to the top should be easy.”
“You want to jump over the limbus?”
He was delusional. There was no way I could make that leap. When I told him so, he stated, “I can. We’ll leap together.”
“I can’t.”
Towering over me like a drill sergeant, Duncan barked, “Ye can and ye shall. You just lifted a lad more than twice your size. You can do this.”
While I silently debated my options, another patch of petunias sprouted at the far end of the ledge. We certainly couldn’t stay where we were. With no choice and no other options, I agreed with a nod. “How are we going to do this?”
Duncan pointed to the flower-infested end of our little shelf. “We start there. Run diagonally across the ledge and launch ourselves off the edge. That should enable us to reach the other side.”
“Okay. Let’s do this before I lose my nerve.” I’d had enough of these
Fear Factor
stunts — and I was beyond anxious to get this final one over with. I moved to the far end, careful not to step on the flowers while Duncan slung both our bags over one shoulder.
When he joined me, he started to curl his arm around my back and then hesitated. “May I make another exception?”
Geez!
I grabbed his hand and slipped it around my back. Then I wrapped my arm tightly around his waist. “This time I touched you. Now come on.”
He peered into my eyes. “Go on three.”
I nodded and he began to count. “One . . . two . . . three.”
We dashed across the outcropping, and just before we hit dead air Duncan pushed off from the edge. In half a second, I knew we would reach the other side. As soon as we did, Duncan lost his footing. I slipped from his grasp and stumbled forward, smashing my head into a boulder. Pain burst through my skull at the same instant that Duncan shouted my name. I ricocheted off the rock and fell backward. An instant after I felt myself toppling toward the bottom of the limbus-covered ravine, steady arms grabbed me.
Duncan’s shocked face filled my vision, but the world surrounding him grew fuzzy around the edges. Like in a dream, I sensed his hand touch my temple. Then I surrendered to spinning blackness, and as I did, I could’ve swore I’d heard him say, “I’ll be making another exception.”
C
radled against Duncan’s chest, I listened to the soothing percussion of his heart.
Ba-boom, ba-boom
. All the difficulties of the journey, all the tension in our relationship, seemed far away. When he stopped and gently lowered me into soft blankets, I clutched his shirt, pulling him down. My head felt pretty jacked up, my right temple throbbing with each breath. But despite the pain, my senses were achingly aware of the boy reclining at my side — his amazing scent, the delicious warmth of his skin, the confident yet vulnerable expression in his huge brown eyes as he hovered over me.
My eyelids fluttered closed as he eliminated the distance between us. Without a word, he pressed his lips to mine. His tongue caressed my lips in a kiss that was surprisingly . . .
juicy
?
I blinked against the shifting light. Rays of amber sunshine, thick with floating dust motes, cut diagonally above my head. I rubbed my eyes and peered into the gloom, trying to figure out exactly where I was.
As I struggled to focus, the variant angles of light and darkness reformed into the heavy crossbeams and wooden supports of a hayloft. In confirmation of my assumption, a cow lowed. I arched my neck to look behind me as a giant tongue swiped my nose and cheek.
Ewww!
I was being kissed by a bovine with no sense of boundaries. Pushing Elsie the Amorous Cow out of the way, I sat up and searched for Duncan.
Next to me, the hay vibrated in a deep, rumbling snore that caused the previous night to come back in a montage of images. I’d hit my head against a rock when we’d jumped the ravine — that much I remembered. Then I’d drifted in and out of consciousness in Duncan’s arms as he’d carried me out of the mountains. The last thing I thought I recalled was him lowering me onto a blanket — presumably in this barn. I could have sworn he kissed my temple as he whispered, “Sleep, my beloved.”
But my memories might’ve been compromised by the pervy cow. Confirming my suspicions, Elsie snuffled my hair and tongued my ear. I sooo didn’t swing that way but lacked bovine vocab to tell her so. Scooting away, I hissed, “Get off.”
Duncan sat upright, instantly alert, his posture rigid as he went into warrior mode. His dark eyes scanned the interior of the barn, taking in our surroundings in the span of a heartbeat. With no enemy in sight, he visibly relaxed. “Are ye all right, Mackenna?”
“I’m fine.”
“I thought I heard something.”
I glanced at Elsie, who batted her lashes innocently. Her large brown eyes looked suspiciously like the ones from my dream. Not about to admit I’d gotten action from a brazen beast, I mumbled, “The cow mooed.”
Duncan took a deep breath as if trying to untether his mind from the nocturnal world. “I was havin’ a dream. I was a wee lad waitin’ on the . . .” With a troubled glance in my direction, he trailed off.
I knew better than to try and force more than he was willing to share. But I couldn’t help the feeling that the dream had something to do with me. Rather than dwell on what he’d not said, I asked the obvious. “Why are we in this stinky barn?”
“You were injured. It was pourin’ rain, and we needed shelter. Don’t ye remember?”
My memories of the previous evening were jumbled, mixed with vague, crazy dreams and all-too-real barn animals. I shook my head, which was a big mistake. My right temple protested with agonizing throbs that crescendoed into nausea. Shutting my eyes, I steadied my woozy head between both hands.
After a moment, another set of hands gingerly joined mine. “You took a nasty blow to the head. Does it hurt badly?”
“A bit,” I confessed.
“Try not to move more than necessary.” Although he was doing his best to appear authoritative, bits of hay poked out of his disheveled hair at every imaginable angle. It was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen.
Curious about my own hair, I ran my fingers though the length and a rain of straw bits fell around me. Immediately, I sneezed. Not a high-pitched, girly sneeze, but a long, deep one — way too much
AH
followed by a head-rattling
CHOOO
. The violent backlash of the sneeze caused me to see stars. Bile filled my mouth with foulness, and I gagged.
Duncan rummaged in his knapsack and then handed me a green, downy leaf. “Here. Chew on this.”
I picked it up, and held it dead-fish-style between two fingers. “What is it?”
His eyebrows shot up toward his hairline in disbelief that I would question his offering. “’Tis mint.”
“Really?” I popped it into my mouth, and instantly savored the burst of spicy goodness that exploded over my taste buds, obliterating the lingering impression of Elsie. “Mmmm.”
