Forever Doon (12 page)

My thoughts clear again, I led the rest of the way. We reached the enormous double doors of the royal chapel without
meeting anyone else. Half expecting the room to be locked, I breathed a sigh of relief as the handle turned with a soft click.

We stepped inside and moonlight bled through stained glass, washing the stone columns and arching vaults in shades of watered blue, magenta, and gold. Memories assaulted me everywhere I looked. The pew toward the back where I'd been gripped with temporary madness as I'd watched Jamie go through the rituals that would make him a king. The altar, where Aunt Gracie's cursed journal flamed, and where the surge of the ring's power had flowed through me for the first time as I destroyed the evil spell.

So much had changed.

With effort, I turned from memories to face the vault door. I reached for the handle, smacked into something hard, and stumbled back. Ewan walked around me, but I yanked him back. “Stop. The door's guarded by magic.”

I lifted my hand and focused on removing the enchanted barrier. My ring glowed scarlet, and then winked out. I stared down at the dull red stone as a wave of dizziness swept over me. My gaze jerked up to meet Ewan's. My legs wobbled and I reached out for something to steady myself.

“Yer Majesty?” Ewan grabbed for me, but I toppled, my hip striking the wooden pew as I dropped to my knees.

I focused all my energy on raising my arm, but my limbs were made of lead. My stomach lurched with the sickening realization that the spell guarding the door had latched onto me like a parasite, gnawing away at my strength. My muscles trembled, and I slumped to my bottom.

Ewan knelt beside me. “What is it? Are ye hurt?”

“There's a spell . . .” I sucked in air. “It's inside me . . .”

Ewan followed my gaze to the door, his eyes flaring wide as they turned back to me. “What do I do?”

I fell back on my elbows and he cradled my head in his lap. Panting as if I'd sprinted a mile, I stared up at him, panicked. I didn't know what to tell him. I knew Addie's magic couldn't kill me, but could it put me in a coma? Make me a vegetable for the rest of my life? “I don't . . . I don't . . . know.” I blinked. What would Jamie do? “Pray . . . just pray.”

I squeezed my eyes closed and focused on my breath.

Deep inhale. Slow exhale.

I reached out with my consciousness to the Protector, but with every breath my throat squeezed tighter and the words wouldn't come. I heard Ewan pleading above me, “Show us what to do . . . Save her.”

My fingers and toes tingled and then went numb, and that's when I began to shake, not with fear but with white-hot anger. After every challenge I'd overcome, all the hard-won battles, that witch still had the upper hand. She'd earned my trust as my assistant Emily while killing innocents behind my back. She'd deceived good people—men, women, and children who had become my family—into pledging their lives to her. She'd forced me to send my best friend out of Doon. Then she'd killed countless others with the earthquake, destroyed the bridge, and murdered the only boy I would ever love.

And there was no way on God's green, blessed earth she was getting away with it. I focused all my strength into sitting up and drew in a deep breath. “Help me stand.” Ewan searched my face, but hooked an arm around my waist and complied. My knees buckled and he tightened his hold.

Spreading my feet, I anchored my legs and lifted my clenched fist. This was
not
how it ended. I would live to make Addie see that taking Jamie had not weakened me, but turned me into a dragon.

The ring sparked and I focused every ounce of power left in
my being at the invisible barrier in front of me. Crimson waves shot down my arms and legs and then exploded from the ring, hitting the door like a bazooka. Addie's spell disintegrated in a burst of violet embers, and the door flew off its hinges and slammed against the wall.

“Holy Saints!” Ewan's arm tightened around my waist, but as I lowered my arm, I pulled away from his grip, realizing my full strength had returned.

“We need to hurry. Someone may have heard that.” Feeling like I could lift a car with my bare hands, I strode into the vault.

The elixir was mine, and this dragon was about to swallow a witch whole.

T
he moon had set and the sun was yet to rise, but I couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, my dreams were haunted with nightmarish images of Veronica, pale and frozen like a cursed princess from a fairy tale. Danger hovered all around her with fangs and horns and bloody claws.

There is nowhere you can go, nothin' that can keep us from finding our way back to each other.

It was a vow I intended to keep.

By the flame of a single lantern, I lowered a sliver of wood toward the lock in my ankle cuff. I'd already snapped a dozen shards, but this one was sturdier than the rest. With my elbow propped on the inside of my knee, I inserted the narrow end into the hole and carefully felt around for the lever that would release the latch. I closed my eyes, felt the pressure and slight give of the mechanism as a trail of sweat trickled down the side of my face.

Gideon had managed to have the magical shield removed from my bed, and replaced by an ankle cuff. When he'd
suggested to Adelaide that the only other option was a nappy, the witch had readily agreed to give me more mobility. The chain, attached to a support beam, only allowed me to reach the loo and the bed. I couldn't even glance out the window. And as far as I knew, Adelaide possessed the only key.

Life with
the thing
that spoke like Adelaide and looked like Veronica had become unbearable. Every visit, her voice, her touch, her face assaulted my sense of reality, defiling my memories. Even worse than when Sean broke my bones and starved me. At least then I could escape inside my head to my safe place—to Veronica. The witch had stripped me of that comfort. Every time she entered the room, my soul lifted at the sight of Vee's beloved face, and then crumpled like a dry leaf in the witch's fist as she opened her mouth. If I didn't get away from her soon, my sanity would break.

Crack.

“Blasted saints of Midar's army!” I slammed the splintered stick onto the coverlet.

After permitting myself a moment of anger, I stood and gathered the slivers of wood, then dropped to my hands and knees. Peering under the bed, I tucked the fragments between the mattress and bedrail with the rest of my failed lock-picking attempts. But as I reached under to dig out another sliver, I paused. Sturdy wooden slats, as wide as my palm, were nailed at even intervals beneath the mattress. I lowered to my back, the stone icy-cold through the thin cotton of my shirt, and wiggled into the tight space underneath the bed.

The middle slat bowed with the weight of the bedding, the nails worked partially out. I gave the board three good whacks with my palm and the right side came free with a shattering pop. Dust and bits of straw rained down, settling in my throat. I coughed as I gripped the other end of the plank and broke it loose.

Yanking one of the nails from the board, I pushed it into the keyhole on my manacle, but it was too large to fit through the narrow opening.

Nail-studded slat in hand, I crawled back out and dusted myself off. Then I tucked back under the covers, hiding my makeshift weapon at my side. The next time the Addie-Vee thing entered my room, I would do whatever it took to escape.

Just as I drifted off to sleep, footsteps sounded outside my door. The witch had already made her evening visit, and although she didn't make a habit of returning in the dead of night, I clutched my makeshift weapon tight. I thought about jumping up to hide behind the privy door, but there was no sense in it when the chain on my ankle would ruin the element of surprise. Brute force it was.

The door swung inward and my muscles tensed as a shadowed figure entered the room. Tall and lank. Movements careful and stilted.

Not the witch.

I let out a relieved breath. “Gideon?”

“Aye, my prince. We must hurry. Ye have a small window durin' the change o' the guard.”

The beautiful sound of jangling keys filled the room as I threw back the blankets. Gideon's brows rose at the sight of the nail-studded plank in my fist. “Plannin' an attack, I see.”

“Aye, I'm bloody well finished bein' that witch's plaything.” My voice came out in a deep growl.

Gideon leaned over and unlocked my shackle. The moment the metal released my foot, I sprang from the bed and rolled my neck, getting the circulation flowing into my limbs in preparation for battle. “Did ye bring me a weapon?”

“Nay, ye'll need ta take the board. The keys were all I could manage, and I'll have ta return these ta Adelaide's chamber
before she rises.” He lifted the ring of iron keys and then dropped them into his sporran.

I leveled my gaze on the old man. “Ye're no' comin' with me.” It wasn't a question.

“I'm o' better use ta ye here, eh?”

The captain knew the nooks and crannies of Doon better than just about anyone, but I couldn't deny that having a spy close to the witch could prove invaluable. “If ye have information, we'll need to establish a drop-off point and a signal.”

“Aye.”

“Could ye manage to reach the royal cemetery without detection?”

“I could use the catacomb entrance.”

“Right. If ye need to communicate, tie a strip of plaid in the oak next to my mother's stone. I'll send a scout every day at dawn. But only use it for vital information. If the witch catches you . . .”

He gave a tight nod.

“I canna guarantee I'll return for ye before the battle begins.”

Gideon lifted his chin, his watery eyes searching mine, the corner of his left pulled down by red, puckered tissue. His battle scars. “Jamie, I've served ye since you were a lad. Dinna ye know by now tha' I would die for ye?”

My chest tightened as I met his determined gaze. The thought of leaving him behind in this living perdition was too much. “Gideon, come with me. We'll find a way to defeat her.”

“Nay, m'Laird.” He bent at the waist in a low bow, and when he straightened his demeanor changed to the gruff tone I was accustomed to hearing from him. “We're out o' time. The first level o' the castle is surrounded by a deadly curse. Ye'll need ta leave by the east. There's a balcony above the kitchen entrance wi' an overgrown yew nearby. If ye're lucky ye can jump to it.”

Realizing I had no shoes or cloak to guard against the wintery chill, I grabbed my makeshift weapon and let him guide me to the door. Would my father have left his trusted captain of the guard behind for the sake of the kingdom? Without a doubt. Doon always came first. But this price hit me right in the gut.

Gideon peeked out into the corridor and then turned back. “One more thing. I heard whispers tha' the witch is sendin' a contingent o' magically enhanced guards ta the mountains in the mornin'. A spy returned with information that a large group o' Doonians is campin' in the caverns to the west of the Muir Lea. They move every few days, so Adelaide is hopin' to catch them before they disappear again.”

There were hundreds of caves scattered throughout the mountains. It was a smart strategy. “Is Veronica with them?”

“No reports o' the queen's location. Now go. Ye dinna have much time.”

I glanced up and down the corridor. It appeared empty. I stepped outside of my prison and turned back to Gideon as he locked the door behind us. Transferring the bed slat to my left hand, I lowered the end against the slate floor, stiffened my spine, and snapped a salute. “
Gratiam et fortitudine
, Captain. May the Protector be with you.”

Eyes glistening, Gideon stood at attention and lifted his hand to return the salute. “And with you, my prince.” He snapped his heels, lowered his arm, and then rushed away.

The hallway I'd walked at least a thousand times loomed dark and menacing as I plunged into the shadows. Up ahead, a recessed alcove contained an oil painting of a summer pasture, helping me orient myself. The third floor of the south turret consisted of servants' quarters; the floor below me, guest rooms and a secret passage tucked behind a tapestry that led
straight to the east wing above the kitchens. I cocked an ear, and when I didn't hear anything, I quickened my pace to a jog.

None of the torches were lit, but my foreboding stemmed from more than the darkness—the bright, joyful castle I'd lived in my entire life hung heavy with malevolence, like a corporeal presence. If I turned quickly, I could almost see the magic slithering down the walls, and gliding above my head. I ran faster.

My pulse ratcheted into my ears as I reached out to open the staircase door. The witch's sentinels could be anywhere; a single touch to an object covered in her spell could alert her to my presence. I couldn't overthink every move I made or I wouldn't survive. Setting my jaw, I grasped the handle and slipped into the pitch black stairwell. Chills raced over my skin as I pressed against the damp stone wall, my bare feet aching with cold. After several moments of silent prayer, my heartbeat regulated and I felt my way down the winding corridor, one step at a time.

At the door, I stopped to listen and review my path. A short jog down the hall, past the fairy pool tapestry, and through the passage. I was as good as free.

The door swung open, bringing me face-to-face with two men dressed in royal guard blues and greens; two men I'd sparred with in the lists, two men I'd trusted with Veronica's life—before they took a knee and pledged to serve evil. They were no longer the men I knew.

“Hello, gentlemen.”

Guard one's empty eyes blinked and then flared just before I smacked the bed plank into the side of his head. He toppled, out cold. Guard two grasped for his sword. But before it was unsheathed, I slammed my fist into his throat, dropping him to the ground. He clutched his neck with both hands, gurgling
and choking for air. I shook my head. “I taught you better than that.”

Releasing the board, I dragged the unconscious guard into the stairwell and then returned for the second, who had slumped to his bum, his face turning blue. I'd likely damaged his larynx, but he'd live. I pulled his sword and leveled the tip against his chest. “Get up, or so help me, I'll run ye through.”

He scrambled to his feet and I directed him into the stairwell. Before the door had shut behind us, I conked the sword hilt against his forehead and he crumpled beside his mate. Making a quick assessment, I tugged the boots off the first man and slipped them onto my feet. A bit snug, but they would do.

After stripping the broader guard of his green coat and the
sgian dubh
blade from his stocking, I crept back into the main hallway. I jogged to the tapestry, ducked behind it, and opened the panel. Wind moaned through the passageway, the cobwebs so thick I had to use my sword to clear a path. The webs were a good sign that the passage had remained secret.

I paused at the exit. Footsteps sounded on the other side, moving fast. Two sets, by the sound of them. Were they searching for me? Had the castle itself betrayed me to Adelaide, as I'd feared?

It was a risk I'd have to take. Armed, I could easily take two more guards and make my way to the east terrace. I eased through the opening and shut the panel softly behind me. Voices echoed down the hall and I followed their urgent whispers. One male. One female.

Keeping to the shadows, I drew closer. The female voice held a familiar cadence, and by her tone, she was clearly the one in charge. Even if she were a Doonian, someone I'd known, she'd chosen to pledge to darkness. I would need to take her out first.

I slipped into the alcove as their backs were turned. They leaned over the balcony rail, searching for something, or someone—probably me. The woman straightened and my heart galloped into my ears. The grace with which she moved, the solid set of her narrow shoulders . . . Vee, but not Vee. The witch. And with only one guard.

The Vee-Addie thing turned, and I crossed the room in two long strides. Blood-red rage ripped through me, and then turned ice cold, stealing all thought but one—
kill her
. I smashed the hilt of my claymore into the guard's head, he dropped and I whirled, grabbing
the thing
by her throat. She gasped my name, her eyes wide aqua pools in the starlight, the perfect mix of shock and wonder swirling in their depths.

Not Vee. She's not Vee.

I squeezed, crushing the delicate cords of her neck. “Ye will no' fool me this time, witch!” I drew back my sword. Not even Adelaide Blackmore Cadell could survive a blade through the heart.