Doon (Doon Novel, A) (30 page)

D
unbrae Cottage loomed before us, dark and silent, appearing completely undisturbed. My chest tightened painfully. I’d had no tangible signs we were on the right track, but something in my gut had led me here. That same something made it impossible to be patient while Kenna searched for the spare key she’d hidden in the garden.

“It’s near the door … somewhere around here, I’m sure of it,” Kenna muttered to herself as she and Duncan lifted every leaf and rock within ten paces of the entrance.

About ready to break the cottage door down myself, I turned to Fergus. The gentle giant hopped up and down on the balls of his feet, his outward agitation a reflection of my own inner turmoil. “Can you open it?” I asked.

“Aye, m’ lady.” He took a giant step forward, almost knocking Duncan out of the way in his eagerness. “Watch out! I’m going in.”

In the same moment, Kenna yelled, “I found it!”

Fergus stopped in mid-stride. Obviously annoyed to have
no physical outlet for his fear, he balled his massive hands into fists the size of melons and glowered fiercely.

“Thank the good Lord!” Duncan exclaimed as Kenna fit the key in the door and we all filed into the foyer. A stale smell of abandonment greeted us. Kenna flipped the light switch, but nothing happened. “Power’s turned off.”

My heart raced, beating so loudly in the eerie quiet that I glanced at my friends to see if they could hear it. But they were all looking around in distraction, frozen with indecision.

“Let’s split up,” I said. “Duncan, Kenna—you take upstairs. Fergus and I will search down here. Look for clues … anything, no matter how small, that seems out of place.” Three sets of eyes turned to me with undisguised skepticism.

“Vee, sweetie,” Kenna said gently, “I don’t think he’s here. It doesn’t feel like anyone’s been here in a really long time.” Duncan and Fergus nodded in agreement.

“Then the witch has done her job, hasn’t she? Don’t you see? She wants this place to appear deserted.” They all stared back at me, doubt clear on their faces. “Fine! You go, but I know he’s here.”

He has to be
, I thought as I pushed past them and into the entryway. I headed to the hall storage cupboard and rummaged until I found candles and matches. Holding the matchbox, I attempted to strike a stick across the flint, but my hands shook so badly I couldn’t bring the two elements together.

“Let me help ye, lass.” Fergus’s voice, so close behind me, caused me to jump.

I handed off my task without a word. As the candlelight filled the space, I grabbed several candelabras on an upper shelf of the closet. Fergus inserted candles and lit the wicks one by one. In the shifting light, he appeared thoroughly chastised as he said, “I’m with ye, m’ lady. There’s a special connection between those who’ve received a Callin’.”

“But I—” I started to deny his words, but Duncan interrupted me.

“No, lass. Whether ye or my brother choose to accept it, the link between you is undeniable and should no’ be discounted. Hand me two o’ those candelabras. Mackenna and I will search upstairs.”

“Thank you,” I breathed, swallowing the lump in my throat. No time for tears now.

Two hours later, we’d found nothing. Kenna and I searched everywhere, pausing only long enough to get out of our cumbersome gowns and into modern clothes before ripping the cottage apart.

I splashed cool water on my face and stared into the gilded bathroom mirror at my huge, haunted eyes. We were no closer to finding Jamie than we’d been when we arrived. None of us had found a single clue to indicate anyone had been in this house since Kenna and I left, let alone a sign that a witch harbored a young king here.

Jamie’s image appeared before me, a cocky grin on his beautiful mouth, his dark eyes shining with love. With love? Did he love me? Or was I superimposing my own romanticized wishes on his memory? There was no point going there now … or ever. For Doon, I would find their new king and bring him home. Safe. From there I would let my future unfold, however it was meant to be.

Taking several deep, cleansing breaths, I focused my heart and mind and prayed,
Please, God, show me the way
. In desperation, I waited, gripping the cool porcelain sink until my fingers went numb. What made me think the Protector of
Doon would hear me, the girl who’d started all this trouble in the first place?

Gradually, a pinkish light filtered in behind my closed lids. With a start, I opened my eyes and stared down at my hand. The Ring of Aontacht glowed, filling the small bathroom with a radiant light.

Jamie was here!

Grasping onto hope, I rushed from the bathroom. Kenna was nowhere in sight. I wanted to yell out for her, but as I opened my mouth some instinct warned me to remain quiet. If the witch was near, my shout would alert her to my presence.

With only the dull glow of the ring for a guide, I took a tentative step into the foyer. The glow became startlingly bright. Curiously, I took a step back, and it dulled again. I rushed forward, and as expected the ring flared as I hurried into the middle of the entryway. According to the ring’s blazing light, I was on the right track.

I considered my options. Fergus and I had searched the library together, removing most of the books from the shelves, so I stepped toward the front door … but the ring dimmed in response. Turning in a circle, I walked toward the stairway. The light within the ring remained unchanged. I backed off the stairs and moved toward the library, and to my relief the ring glowed brighter with every step.

I entered the room and shut the door behind me. The luminosity of the red stone eclipsed the candles we’d left burning on the coffee table, casting macabre shadows on the walls and cold stone hearth. I fought back a shiver as I threw open the curtains and allowed a beam of moonlight to slice through the room. With singular focus, I ran my fingers around the edge of the hearth stones, testing the seal of the mortar. It appeared
solid. Concentrating on the walls, I turned a slow pirouette, searching for any inconsistency … There!

In the corner to the left of the hearth there was a gap between the wall and the shelf, wider at the top than at the base. The flame in the red stone danced encouragingly as I moved forward, my stomach doing sickening backflips. Slipping my fingers around the gap, I pulled with all my strength.

With a great whoosh of musty air, the bookcase swung open to reveal an ancient stone staircase that curved down into blackness. Not wanting to risk the glow of the ring giving me away, I twisted the stone around and closed my fist over it. Saying a quick prayer, I stepped down into the unknown.

O
n the stage, conflict never resolves until the third act—at the eleventh hour. I tried to comfort myself, but the words felt empty. The eleventh hour had passed, and we were no closer to finding Jamie than we’d been at eight—or nine—or ten. With less than an hour left to save Doon, each futile minute scraped through me as if I were the narrow center of a sand timer.

Throughout the day Addie had grown more Grimm-like in my mind, until she epitomized evil incarnate. Just like the storybook kingdom and fairy-tale princes come to life, the wicked witch lived in the flesh—and she was a mean, cunning old hag. Her magic had messed with Doon’s enchantment. If she was powerful enough to prevent the Brig o’ Doon from opening and fill us with such despair we were ready to roll over in defeat, what chance did our little Scooby Gang stand of defeating her?

Unfortunately, we had to find her first. Despite Vee’s irrational insistence Jamie was here, we hadn’t found any evidence
that Addie or the king of Doon had ever been in Dunbrae Cottage. We’d investigated every inch.

With nowhere inside left to search, Fergus and Duncan had gone to inspect the riverbank while Vee and I reexamined the house. Exhausted and in desperate need of a timeout, I wandered upstairs to grab a few things. In the flickering candlelight, I hurriedly ransacked Vee’s drawers, stuffing cotton undergarments, jeans, a couple of hoodies, her jogging gear, and a few of her favorite books into a canvas bag. None of her other possessions would be of much benefit for her new life in Doon. After everything she’d gone through today, I refused to accept she and Jamie wouldn’t end up together.

When I finished with Vee’s room, I headed to my own. I hastily searched for anything else that might be useful and added it to the bundle. Rifling through the closet, I grabbed my favorite jacket. As I shrugged it on, a crumpled rectangle of paper fell from the pocket to land faceup at my feet. My acceptance letter to the Adrenaline Theatre Company internship program, personally signed by Weston Ballard. Ever since I’d gotten it in the mail, I’d carried it around like a talisman, to ward off the spirits of an unremarkable life.

Although half dead with fatigue and fear, that letter caused something inside of me to break. What would happen if I failed to save the boy I cared about? My life—my goal of a successful career on the stage—wouldn’t matter if Doon and all its inhabitants perished.

And if by some miracle they were saved, what then?

To his credit, Duncan had done his best not to gawk at his strange new surroundings, and he hadn’t said one word as I crammed him into the taxi. Although he was desperate to find Jamie, I knew a little part of him had been trying to prove he belonged in my world.

But how? And as what? I suspected there weren’t too many job openings for the position of prince. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t reconcile the idea of Duncan working in a random office, or worse yet flipping burgers at some greasy fast food joint, with the daring Scotsman I’d first seen trying to pummel his brother to death.

I guess he could always keep house. Shop at the local Walmart and cook misshapen meals while I pursued my career. Survive on misplaced infatuation while I embraced my dreams.

My legs gave way and I slumped to the floor, too numb to go on. Duncan’s gorgeous yet tortured face appeared before me. His brown eyes held an unrelenting agony at the thought of his beloved home perishing. The hard set of his jaw conveyed his determination to save his world. His mouth clamped tight against unspoken fears that he might fail.

All he’d ever wanted was to serve his kingdom, his king, and his Protector. He’d told me so at Muir Lea. Yet for me, he would walk away from his heart’s desires. How was that fair when I couldn’t—no, I wouldn’t—do the same for him? He deserved better: a long and happy life with someone who shared his ideals. Not some girl who insisted on putting herself first.

Grains of sand continued to drop and shred my insides as I prayed for Duncan and Fiona’s Protector to work a miracle. Please save him, I begged. If you rescue him, along with his king and country, I’ll give him back to you. I’ll give him up forever. I promise!

A gentle whoosh resounded in the hall, followed by a blast of cool, dank air on my face. I blinked my eyes open to absolute black. The breeze that’d come out of nowhere had gutted the candles and left me in darkness.

Was this the universe’s way of telling me to give up? Why
would the Protector of Doon extinguish what little light I had? Wasn’t light synonymous with hope? And Divine promise?

Please …

My hand began to tingle. I watched a shimmering green flame dance in the emerald of my ring as amazement stirred in my chest. With each passing moment, Uncle Cam’s ring grew brighter. As the glow expanded to light the room, a great and terrible knowledge settled over me. The curtain had not closed on the final act. The plot still contained a few twists, and there was magic yet to do. In the grand scheme of the universe, my own dreams meant nothing; the only thing that mattered was saving those I loved.

T
he stone felt cold and slimy beneath my fingers as I made my way down the passageway. To calm my nerves, I counted steps as I went. Twelve … thirteen … fourteen. The stairs funneled down in a tight circle. Moving silently, I descended into complete darkness. Eighteen … nineteen … twenty.

I wouldn’t allow my imagination to form pictures of what I would find. Instead, I concentrated on keeping my balance and counting—as if my life depended on it.

Twenty-six … twenty-seven … twenty-eight … twenty-nine …
Whack!

I pitched forward, hitting something solid with my shoulder. Belatedly, I realized the steps had ended. My pulse pounded in my ears as I explored the barrier in front of me. It felt like wood, warmer than the stone but still slick with damp. Images of spindly legged spiders dropping on my head and rabid, hungry rats milling about my feet almost paralyzed me. I opened my fist, and the red light of my ring erupted, illuminating a
crude wooden door—thankfully, no spiders or rats were in sight.

With trembling fingers, I lifted the heavy wrought-iron lever, cringing as a squeak echoed through the corridor followed by a soft, creaking moan. The door opened about a foot and stuck, forcing me to squeeze through the opening. Flickering torches lined the stone passageway that led to another windowless door at the far end. On tiptoes, I jogged toward the end of the hall as every instinct within me screamed in warning.

I put my ear to the wood, held my breath, and listened. Nothing. I braced for the screech of metal on metal, but this door didn’t make a sound as I slowly inched it closer to me.

Pressing my spine against the gritty wall, I peered through the opening. A single candle flickered in the far corner of a small, cell-like room. I blinked against the shifting light, sifting through shadowy details. A bare cot … a wooden table … Jamie!

He was bound to a chair, his head resting on his chest. Was he unconscious, or was I too late? All thoughts of caution gone, I pushed into the room and ran toward him as his eyes rolled open.

“Stop. ’Tis a trap,” he groaned.

Heedless of the warning, I ran forward. But just before I reached him, something slammed me back against the wall. I hit so hard, my legs collapsed, sending me to the floor.

“Vee!” Jamie cried.

I sucked air into my burning lungs and searched for the source of attack. Through the gloom, a slight figure with long, wavy blonde hair emerged. “Allyson?” She glanced up at me, her green eyes huge in her pale face, her diamond nose ring glittering in the candlelight. She wasn’t bound like Jamie, but she was trembling. There was no one else in the room—it didn’t
make sense. “Ally, run and get help! My friends are upstairs.” I pushed to my feet. “I’ll untie him and meet you there.”

Hyperaware of the time slipping away, I stumbled over to Jamie, who barely seemed to be able to lift his head. “Jamie?”

He turned toward my voice, his eyes unfocused. “It’s her.”

“What?” I began working on the rope binding his hands behind his back, but it was stuck tight.

“Veronica.” It was Allyson’s voice but—different. A chill rushed down my spine. I raised my eyes to find the girl walking steadily toward us, her edges strangely blurred. “You’ve done well.”

Something was wrong with her face. Slowly, I straightened and placed my hands on Jamie’s shoulders, my heart dropping to the floor. Impossibly, Ally’s hair began to shrink, growing shorter and straighter before my eyes. Her rounded cheeks sharpened, the skin on her face pulling tighter over her cheekbones. As she drew closer, tiny lines spidered out from her eyes. The nose ring was gone and her mother, Addie Dell, stood before me.

Oh no
. I shook my head in denial as my knees grew weak and I gripped Jamie’s shoulders harder. Allyson and Addie were the same person? And they were both Adelaide Cadell—the witch of Doon.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the terrible excitement lighting her face as she purred in a silken voice, “I’m so glad to see you. Come here, my dear.”

“Stay away from her!” Jamie growled. The wooden chair legs knocked against the floor as he struggled against his bonds.

It occurred to me that my hands should’ve been resting on his shoulders, but he was suddenly several feet away. I hesitated mid-step, unsure how I’d gotten halfway across the room.

“Be still and silent, young king o’ Doon,” Addie commanded.
She flicked her wrist in Jamie’s direction and he froze, unable even to speak.

“Strong willed, that one,” Addie said with a glow of appreciation in her eyes. “I’ve had ta enthrall him thrice now.”

Focusing her full attention back to me, she announced, “Veronica, I wanted ta thank ye for delivering my spell inta the proper hands.”

I stared in shock at Jamie’s eerie, lifeless form across the room. “I didn’t deliver anything for you.”

“’Tis no matter, really. It got ta him somehow. I must admit, though, I was beginning ta despair that my plan had failed.”

Blood rushed in my ears as I clenched my hands into fists. I already knew she’d manipulated me like an empty-headed marionette, but hearing her gloat about it made me dizzy with rage. I’d never wanted to punch someone more in my life. “And what plan would that be?”

“My plan to destroy Doon, o’ course.” Addie arched a golden brow. “It’s just an added bonus that ye’re here ta watch your sweetheart die at midnight along with his kingdom.”

Something about her gloating statement caught me off guard. “Wait. What makes you think he’s my sweetheart?”

Her laugh was musical, like the tinkling of breaking glass. “I knew from the moment I touched ye that you’d received a Calling. It was delicious, really. Though it negated all the effort I’d gone to in conjuring a vision o’ the crown prince and planting the enspelled sketch in Grace Lockhart’s journal for Mackenna to find. I no longer needed young James’s beautiful face ta lure her to take the journal over the bridge. The power of the Calling did all that for me.
You
did all that for me.” Her focus shifted back to Jamie as she stalked toward him. “And o’ course Gideon’s eyes were an invaluable tool. I just wish he’d been able to find the journal sooner. ’Twas a truly brilliant
hiding place, Veronica. But ’tis no matter now.” She laughed as she waved her hand in a dismissive motion.

My mind tumbled back to all the times I’d caught Gideon lurking in the shadows, and wondered how often the guard—or rather Addie—had been watching us over the past weeks.

The witch moved to Jamie’s side and ran her fingers through the layers of his hair. “Your prince and I get on quite well. A pity we don’t have more time.”

Speaking of time, I knew the long-winded explanations were her way of trying to run out the game clock. I needed to make my move. As I glared at the lazy movement of her hand, a reflection on her finger caught the candlelight. She wore a ring almost identical to the Rings of Aontacht in size and shape but with a flat black stone. Was it a source of power, like Gracie and Cameron’s rings? Or merely a benign piece of jewelry? I’d almost inched to Jamie’s other side when I noticed his eyes following me.

“A pity one so lovely has ta be destroyed.” She ran one long violet fingernail down the strong lines of Jamie’s immobile face.

I ground my teeth together, my blood boiling hotter every time she touched him. “Maybe he doesn’t.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them. I had no plan. No reason for her to change her mind. But there had to be some way, some bargain I could make—in exchange for Jamie’s life. “Have to be destroyed, I mean … We could make a deal.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “I’m the most powerful witch in my line, fer generations! What could one little girl possibly have ta offer me?”

With a calming breath, I tried to place myself in her black soul, to figure out what dark thing the witch might crave—that I could provide in the next thirty minutes. Would she want the ring now that I’d brought it back across the bridge? Probably
not. If Doon’s sacred rings were any use to her, other than a host for her parasitic spells, she would’ve exploited them by now. Instead, she’d planted them for Kenna and me to find. But there had to be something else.

I watched as she stared at Jamie hungrily, like she might devour him to the bone. She ignored me, disregarding my presence as if I was no match for her power and therefore no threat. Her arrogance was a weakness that I might be able to use.

Adrenaline rolled through my body as I considered the odds of taking her out the old-fashioned way. She moved to light another candle, and I saw my chance. Clenching my fists, I hurtled toward her back.

With a mumbled word and a flick of her wrist, she propelled me through the air as if I were nothing more than a feather. But I landed like a boulder. My head bounced on the concrete floor and I struggled against the blackness that threatened to swallow me.

Addie’s dark form knelt over me and she shook her head from side to side. The curtain of her loose hair cast her face in unearthly shadow, transforming her into a faceless specter.

Brushing my bangs almost lovingly off my face, she intoned, “You stupid, stupid girl. Did ye think you could best me that easily?”

Past Addie’s crouched form, Jamie glared holes in the witch’s back. With great effort he opened his mouth and called to me. “Vee—”

The witch’s eyes widened in surprise before she stood and spun to face him. “I see our obstinate hero is back.” Her entire body was coiled and tense as she walked to Jamie’s bound, vulnerable form. Flipping back her sleeve, she glanced at her watch and smiled—a wide, maniacal leer that made my blood run cold.

“Not long now, young man. I canna wait to watch you disappear into the mist, along with your beloved kingdom. What would yer dear departed mother say if she knew her favored son was the cause of Doon’s ultimate demise?” She shook her head and made a tsking sound with her tongue.

Barely a whisper, Jamie labored to contradict her. “She’d say Doon’s blessing is yer curse … and it always will be.”

“Not for long—”

He shook his head feebly. “Aye. Forever.”

Emboldened by Jamie’s strength in the face of certain death, I scrambled to my feet. I knew only one thing: I couldn’t watch him disintegrate before my eyes, or whatever horrific thing would happen to him at the stroke of midnight. I had to find a way to save him and Doon, no matter what the cost. The Ring of Aontacht had to be the key. Fiona had asked me to put it on in the chapel just before the spell around the journal shattered, and it had led me to Jamie. This was no benign piece of jewelry; it contained power, if I could just figure out how to use it.

I closed the ring in my fist and channeled my desperation into a question—How can I defeat the witch? Several seconds ticked by, and then I heard the auld laird’s lilting brogue resonate in my mind. “When the time comes ye must be willing to sacrifice … for Jamie’s sake.” Echoed by Fiona’s parting advice: “Pure, unselfish love can break any spell.”

Bits and pieces of information slipped into place, and a perfectly crazy plan took shape. Before I could put too much thought into where my scheme would lead, I stepped forward and said, “Maybe I have something to offer you after all, Addie.”

Jamie’s eyes pleaded with me, as if he knew what I was about to say. Clearly, he’d fought against the enthrallment to speak, and it had cost him. He no longer raged against his bonds, but sat hunched over in the chair, bruises of exhaustion under his eyes.

I took a deep breath, faced Addie, and announced with all the confidence I could muster, “I want to trade places with him.”

Jamie groaned, “Vee, nooo.”

Addie stilled. Now that I had her attention, I continued. “I know I can invoke some sort of exchange using this ring.” I rotated the stone around on my finger and lifted my hand.

She stared at it as if examining it for flaws and then lifted her gaze to me, her eyes burning with something I couldn’t identify. “Ye want ta offer yerself in sacrificial substitution?”

That sounded about right. I nodded. “My life for Jamie’s.”

“Why should I?” Addie’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Searching for a compelling reason to give her, I dared a glance at my prince, and my heart contracted. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and his muscles trembled as he strained to break his bonds.

“Adelaide, dinna listen to her. I’m the one you want.” His voice was low, but his words were underscored with steel. “Leave Vee out of this.”

The effort it took him to speak appeared to drain the last of his strength. His shoulders slumped and his eyes fell shut. I crossed to him and cupped his rough cheek in my hand. His eyes cracked open, blazing at me under heavy lids.

My true destiny clear for the first time in this journey, I quietly pleaded, “It has to be this way. Don’t you see? This world would be much too dark a place without you in it.”

Jamie’s mom had said there was a price for everything, and now I finally understood. I placed a single lingering kiss on his warm lips and then leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “I would pay any price for you.”

Addie clapped her hands in glee. “Aww, how verra sweet! I was going ta enjoy his death at midnight, but victory will be
even sweeter witnessing his suffering as he watches you die along with his precious kingdom. Not to mention I get to keep the lovely young king as my plaything.”

A sliver of fear shot through me as I met her wide, bone-chilling grin. I clenched my teeth tight to keep them from chattering and nodded. This was it, my last hope.

“Place your hand on yer prince’s shoulder.”

I complied and she lifted her ring to her lips, muttering secret words against the precious stone. Her eyes glowed neon green in the gloom as she declared, “So it shall be.”

A light flashed and then a blinding blackness engulfed me, followed by a quick, intense pain, like fire shooting through my veins. Maybe her spell was too powerful. Was I dying?

Weightlessness pulled me toward oblivion. I struggled against the welcoming dark, and a flash of memory pierced the swirling abyss. “Veronica … Doon did no’ call ye here to become its queen by marrying my son. Ye are here for a reason.
Our Protector
does no’ make mistakes … by marrying my son … its queen.”