Shades of Doon

by Carey Corp

  Belatedly, I realized that Mario still gripped my hand. He fell to the grass trying to keep his grip while I dangled over the crack in the earth. From below, the acrid smell of sulfur stung my eyes and nose. I blinked up at Mario . . . and Eòran. Mutton Chops leaned into the crevasse, helping Mario pull me up.

  As I scrambled for solid ground, Eòran hoisted me to my feet. Before I could catch my breath, Duncan and Mabel approached, slowing as Eòran hefted me in the air. Duncan grabbed my arm, and with Mutton Chop’s help, I swung onto the horse’s back.

  Once I was firmly behind Duncan and clutching on for dear life, he resumed his charge. Behind us, the ground continued to crack. Doonians screamed as they or their loved ones tumbled into the abyss. Some of us would not survive. Even as the truth of that hit me, the light of my ring and the one Duncan wore on the tip of his pinky began to unite, merging from red and green to brilliant white.

  As we cleared the final copse of trees and the Brig o’ Doon came into full view, the riverbank gave way. Mabel reared back as she scrambled for solid footing. By the time I cried out, Duncan had regained control of his steed. With a clicking noise, he rerouted Mabel into the field, arcing in a wide circle. After a moment’s pause he grunted, “Hold fast, Mackenna.”

  Before I could question why, we were galloping straight for the fissure. With a mighty bellow from her rider, Mabel leapt the newly formed ravine and skidded to a halt at the mouth of the Brig o’ Doon.

  I was still panting for breath as Duncan twisted in his seat, lifted me off the horse, and dismounted all in one fluid motion. With a frown of regret, he raised his hand to swat his beloved horse’s rump. Worried that he was about to send the poor beast to fend for herself, I stepped between them, capturing his hand before he could strike.

  “Let’s take Mabel with us.”

  Duncan blinked at me like I was speaking pig Latin. “Can we do that?”

  “We can try.” When he nodded in agreement, I took the horse’s reins and handed them to him. Taking his free hand, the one wearing Vee’s ring, in my own, I said, “Let’s get the portal open.”

  From our side in Doon the arch ended in a ruin halfway across. But as we stepped onto the cobbled stones, the light of our rings poured across the bridge, making it whole. The Robert Burns memorial and the rooftops of modern-day Alloway appeared in the background.

  Without warning, Duncan smacked Mabel’s rump, causing her to bolt across the bridge and safely into the present. At my startled noise, he favored me with one of his heart-stopping, lopsided grins. “Dinna worry. She’ll no’ stray far. She’s safe. We made it.”

  The relief that lit Duncan’s face was short lived as another mighty tremor shook the ground. “Hurry, Doonians,” he urged.

  I glanced in the direction of the field to see the people of Doon making their way across. With Eòran’s gestures, those closest to the bridge were spanning the chasm with a large fallen tree. Once it was firmly in place, Mutton Chops scurried across and others began to follow. Mid-field, I spotted Sofia with Lachlan and Blaz. They were flanked by the other Rosettis and Analisa helping the injured to pick their way toward us.

  Eòran stepped onto the bridge and then stopped to urge others across. As the first of my adopted countrymen crossed the bridge, a distant rumbling began. Like an invisible tidal wave, the trees of the forest began to collapse. Closer, the patch of earth that had been wasted by the limbus fell into giant sink holes. I watched helplessly as Mr. Dinwiddie, the boot maker, and another merchant who’d been crossing the ravine stumbled from the log and tumbled into the chasm below.

  Duncan’s free hand captured my face. “Focus, woman!”

  The dark intensity in Duncan’s gaze riveted me to him as he said, “Give me your ring.”

  “What! Why?”

  Without the slightest trace of emotion he replied, “Once we get the people across, I’ll hold the bridge for you to follow.” He didn’t need to explain that he had no intention of coming with me; I could read it clearly in his flat eyes. To lessen the blow, he murmured, “I willna leave my brother to die.”

  Clenching my finger over my ring lest he try and wrench it from my finger, I stared at him, letting my outrage fuel my resolve. “And I won’t let you go on a suicide mission.”

  “’Tis no’ your decision to make.”

  The light coming from the rings on our intertwined hands had begun to spurt like a flashlight running out of power as the latest tremor intensified. The quake, which had to be at least an eleven on the Richter scale, continued to menace the ancient bridge. Behind my prince, a chunk of the wall crumbled away as Fiona and another group of Doonians stumbled past.

  I clung to Duncan as the bridge pitched and stones dropped from the structure into the rushing river below. Glancing down I could see the Brig o’ Doon splitting in half beneath our feet. If we fell into the icy river below, where would we end up? Alloway or Doon?

  “Hold fast!” Duncan barked at me. Worried for my friends, I glanced back to Doon as the latest wave of destruction reached the field. Tossed by an unseen force, bodies flew through the air. In that moment I realized it was indeed a tidal wave — not of water, but of purple magic.

  Unable to look away, I yelled out to Sofia and the rest of the Rosettis to hurry. Just as Lachlan stepped onto the bridge, something slammed into me. Like Jack and Jill, Duncan and I tumbled down the far side of the sloped bridge and onto the grassy riverbank of Alloway. As the world stopped spinning, I realized that Eòran had been the something that knocked us forward.

  With a curse at the badger-like guard, Duncan hauled me to my feet. My ring no longer emitted any light — white, green, or otherwise. And the bridge — the bridge was missing. Not collapsed in ruin or lying in cobbled chunks across the riverbank . . . the Brig o’ Doon had disappeared.

  Lachlan, Blaz, Sofia, the other Rosettis, Analisa, and all the rest of the Doonians were gone.

  EPILOGUE

  Jamie

  Air rushed into my lungs and I jolted forward.

  What in all that’s holy?

  Snow-laden trees bowed like sentinels around a frozen fountain, their heavy branches almost touching the ice-glazed lions in its center. I’d splashed in that pool as a boy.

  Either the hereafter looked exactly like Doon, or, miraculously, I still lived.

  I squeezed my aching temples and memories rushed back — Addie screeching about Veronica paying for her escape, a hood being lowered over my head, the earth quaking, and as I uttered my last prayer, hands gripping my arms and pulling me back. “It is not yet your time.”

  And then I’d awoken here in the castle garden.

  My chest constricted. A miracle, indeed.

  But what of my people? And Veronica?

  The air cracked as a wave of violet shook the trees, preceding an ungodly shriek. “MacCrae!”

  That would be Addie discovering she hadn’t killed me as planned. I leapt to my feet at a dead run — past the shrub maze, down the steps, and into the forest.

  When Vee escaped, she would’ve gathered the people and led them away from the castle. But which direction? I paused in the lee of the dungeon entrance, the sharp wind like needles against my exposed skin.

  Knowing her logical mind, my queen would seek shelter and weapons. The hunting lodge. I headed east into the woods. With only a dusting of snow beneath the canopy of branches, there were no tracks, but there would be other signs that hundreds had passed this way.

  I slowed, searching for broken twigs, trampled grass, missing bark. And found nothing. Had they gone to the catacombs?

  A piercing howl echoed through the forest, and I heard distant footfalls, followed by shouts.

  “I saw somethin’!”

  “There!”

  “Through the trees!”

  As much as I longed to turn and fight, without weapons it would do me little good. I dashed left, leapt over a fallen log and up the hill. Few people knew this forest better than I. Except perhaps Gideon. I forced my le
gs faster.

  A hot wind brushed my face, swirling around me, warming my icy skin. I stalled and pivoted toward it, soaking in the exquisite heat and breathing in the magic.

  Saints!

  Shaking off the enticement, I sprinted in the opposite direction.

  I had to find them — I had to find her.

  Veronica had been right; together we were stronger. But in the witch’s clutches, we became each other’s weakness. Capture was not an option.

  No longer hearing my pursuers, I jumped, caught the branch of a large oak, swung up, and climbed as high as I dared. Since the winter had come unnaturally early, there were plenty of leaves to conceal me. I settled into the intersection of two branches and leaned against the trunk to wait. The last time I’d climbed a tree, my idiotic brother’d woken a wasp’s nest and we’d both fallen — nay, leapt to the ground. I flexed my left arm as my throat tightened. I’d come close to losing him that day. Lifting my face to the sky, I prayed he’d found safety. And that Veronica was with him.

  I could trust Duncan with anything, even the one who defined my world. I reached into my pocket and fingered the single azure ribbon I’d kept from the set I’d given her. Providence had gifted us a second chance.

  “I will find you, my heart. And I will keep my promise.”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Co-writing a series continues to be a challenging and rewarding labor of love. Thankfully, so many of you have crossed the bridge with us to DOON.

  Thank you to:

  The Protector, who orders our hearts, minds, and steps. Without Him, there would be no Doon.

  Jacque Alberta, for seeing Doon in the weather, and for living and breathing this series right along with us.

  The Blink and Zondervan team, for giving us the tools and support to bring the Dooniverse to the world.

  Agent extraordinaire Nicole Resciniti, for being the first person to convert to Doonism.

  Melissa Landers, our critique partner and friend, for providing benchmarking and much needed counterbalance. Can’t wait to write that Doon-Alienated crossover. ;)

  The Booktubers and Bloggers, especially Sasha Alsberg, Ben Alderson, Tiernan Bertrand-Essington, and Daniela Diaz for loving this series and helping countless readers to cross the bridge. We’re so proud to call you friends!

  The Doon Street Team, Amber, Amanda C., Jules, Ang, Tracy, Stephanie, Sara, Amanda S., Charity, Debz, Jessica, Rachel, Kathryn, Winona N., and Cameron, a heartfelt thank you for sharing your love of Doon with the online world and celebrating our small victories!

  Mike Heath, for continuing to outdo himself one Doon cover at a time.

  Artist J.C. Anguiano for his inspired Doon creations. Your illustrations are amazing!

  All the Doonians who pour out their love of this series in art, edits, fan accounts, and encouragement on social media. You make the Dooniverse come alive!!!

  Lorie would like to thank:

  Tom for listening to me babble about logic issues and plot holes and the occasional prince in a kilt; Ben for sharing my love of musical inspiration; Alex for the best, most encouraging hugs on the planet; my parents, Bruce and Dinah Luneke, for your unwavering belief; Toby and Jerry Moeggenberg for your love and support; and the friends of my heart — Kelly Moe, Tricia Lacey, Laurie Pezzot, Lisa Litz, Jen Egbert — I don’t spend near as much time with you as I would like, but know that you have each shaped who I am today, and I appreciate you more than you know!

  Carey would like to thank:

  Athena and Harrison, who support my dreams and tolerate my schedule and burnt dinners; my mom for stalking readers at her local bookstore until they buy my books; Jonathan Hunter for cheering me onward and upward; the amazing folks at Crossroads Church for nourishing my spirit; Skerryvore — whose music provided so much of the emotional landscape for my chapters; my dear friends for their overwhelming enthusiasm — especially Kelly Harris, Nancy Hemingway, Mary Jo Vanden Berg, Erica Bardeau, Tricia Giltner, the Jones Family (Roger, Judy, Madison & Megan); and my hometown peeps from Vacaville, CA!