by Carey Corp
Back in school, when we wanted to meet in the girls’ bathroom in secret, she would go first, and after one hundred Mississippis I would follow. I began to count, and as I did I loaded a napkin with tasty treats. If she didn’t have the opportunity to visit the dessert table, the least I could do was bring her the most important meal of the day.
Just as I added a mini éclair to the top of my napkin pyramid, Duncan reappeared at the ballroom’s main entrance. It was everything I could do to restrain myself from going to him. But I was already at seventy-eight Mississippi. Vee would be expecting me.
“Glad you approve of the pastry selections.” Mags Benoir, the doc’s wife and Castle MacCrae’s head chef, startled me out of my conflicted inner monologue. She regarded me in her disquieting, candid way. “You know, Mackenna, being Called isn’t a sacrifice. It’s a gift.”
My heart thumped out an arrhythmic staccato as I searched her face, careful to keep my reaction from betraying itself in my eyes. “I know that.”
“Do you, child?” I bristled at the moniker but held my tongue as she nodded to Duncan. “Then why did you assume what Duncan would be giving up outweighed what he would gain in his new life with you?”
My neutral expression soured into a frown despite my effort. “When I left him on the bridge, I didn’t know we had a Calling.”
“Didn’t you?” Then just as brusquely as she’d arrived, Mags disappeared, leaving me feeling naked despite layers of fabric.
Grateful that I had other things to focus on other than my train wreck of a love life, I crossed to the French doors and slipped outside. The wide expanse of patio ended in a short flight of stairs that led to the great lawn.
Halfway down the stairs, I hesitated. What if Vee’s vision wasn’t right? What if in facing the limbus we died or destroyed the kingdom? This might be my last chance to confess everything to my prince. Even if he chose Analisa over me, did I really want to slink away without unburdening my hapless heart?
My Cinderella night had evolved from Rogers and Hammerstein into Sondheim, so that I now found myself stuck in indecision on the steps of the palace. Before I could make up my mind, a small group of Doonians wandered onto the patio at the far end of the landing, and I scurried to cloak myself in the shadows of the garden.
The horse stables, Vee’s and my rendezvous spot, was less than five minutes away. Slipping off my shoes, I clutched them in my confection-free hand and started to walk. When I reached the stables, they were darker than Monday in the theater district. Although I knew we needed ninja-like stealth, it didn’t make sense that there would be no light.
“Vee,” I hissed as I eased myself inside the door. “Are you here?”
I sensed movement directly behind me as a deep, unfamiliar voice replied, “Aye lass. She is.”
CHAPTER 27
Mackenna
Vee’s éclairs tumbled to the ground as rough hands dug into my upper arms. With a hiss like angry rattlesnakes, torches blazed to life, revealing about a half dozen men, most of whom I didn’t recognize. Off to the side, a trollish soldier stood behind Vee with one hairy arm wrapped around her abdomen and the other covering her mouth. Vee’s eyes were huge and imploring, but it was too late to escape. Like her, I’d walked straight into the ambush.
Thrashing away from my captor, I began to scream. A hand that reeked of cabbage clamped over my mouth cutting off my airflow. In one powerful motion, Cabbage Guy’s other arm moved from my bicep across my throat to press against my windpipe. I stopped struggling instantly.
As soon as I stilled, my captor motioned for the men to exit the stable and forced me out behind them. Vee and her troll walked just in front of us. As we marched toward the castle, it became clear that something big was going on inside the ballroom. The commotion grew when the French doors flew open, followed by a shout. “This way, fellow Doonians.”
The first guests, including Duncan and Jamie, spilled across the patio and down the stairs onto the great lawn. When they saw Vee and me, their bodies went on immediate alert. The man who’d led them to us pulled a knife from his scabbard. Lightning fast, he wrenched Fiona from her groom’s side and pressed the blade to her throat. Before Fergus could react, he bellowed, “Halt! Or she dies.”
Distracted by the attack on the new bride, the MacCrae brothers failed to notice the other men drawing swords until after they’d taken up strategic places around the perimeter. Vee had told me of the group that opposed her rule forming mobs of six or ten, but this had to be three times that amount. While some of them looked like random farmers, the rest were dressed for the ball, which indicated they’d been spying on us all evening.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Jamie demanded. Rather than wait for an answer, he charged the closest traitor. Both men crash to the ground as Fiona yelped in pain. At her cry, Jamie froze. His disheveled head turned in her direction. A small stream of blood rolled down her neck to form a crimson blossom on the bodice of her white gown.
“Fee!” The full horror of the situation shone on Fergus’s face as he called to his new wife. Threatening her life was a most effective restraint for the giant of our group. Despite being the size of a redwood and skilled in combat, he was immediately compliant.
“I’m all right,” she answered. For now.
Duncan must’ve realized that we were at a tactical disadvantage. He held up his hands in surrender and asked, “What’s this about, lads?”
“Treason.” The bearded ringleader of Vee’s opposition, aka Beardy, stepped from the shadows. Vee’s duffel bag, containing spare clothes and the axe, was slung over the guy’s shoulder.
With a noise between a scoff and a growl, Jamie replied, “Seems to me, you’re the one commitin’ treason, Sean MacNally.”
Instead of answering the prince, Beardy addressed the multitude of Doonians who now assembled on the great lawn. “I paid a visit ta Gregory Forrester today. At first he was reluctant to speak, but after a little coaxing he told me the most unbelievable story — of black petunias growing along the border and his brother’s tragic demise.” At the mention of the flowers associated with the Witch of Doon, the crowd began to murmur. “That’s right, my fellow Doonians, Drew Forrest was no’ killed in any accident. He stepped inta those flowers and became one o’ the undead. The Eldritch Limbus is once again ravaging our land!”
The crowd went wild. Many of those present made the sign of the cross and at least one lady fainted. A small gasp drew my attention to the right. Emily stared in disbelief that her true love’s death had been no accident and tears started to trickle down her cheeks. As her wounded eyes held mine, she began to sob. Burying her face in her hands, she fled toward the privacy of the castle. I expected Analisa to follow, but she was curiously MIA.
From the opposite side of the great lawn, Mario Rosetti pushed his way forward. “That is a terrifying tale to be sure, Signore. But even if the Eldritch Limbus is returned, I fail to see what that has to do with treason. Enlighten us, per piacere?”
“Gregory told me that when the queen herself came ta see him after the limbus took his only family and his arm, she asked him ta keep quiet. But I convinced him that the people have a right ta know. Doonians, your foreigner queen deceives you! She has known about the limbus for weeks, and yet she has said naught to you about the impending danger.”
Another burst of disbelief erupted from the crowd. Beardy pointed to Vee. “That’s right, Doon is perishing inta evil and she does nothing!”
Vee bucked against her captor, her muffled shouts unintelligible. Someone in the crowd yelled to let her speak. Beardy nodded and the hand disappeared from her mouth.
“That’s not true!” she countered. “We were trying to stop the limbus. We didn’t want to cause a panic.”
Beardy stepped toward her. “We, meanin’ you and the other American lass?” When Vee nodded, something akin to triumph twinkled in the man’s beady eyes. “Then how do ye account for this?”
He pulled the axe from the duff
el and hoisted the bag high over his head. “Two changes of modern clothes and shoes, the Rings of Aontacht, and the Arm o’ the Bruce, one of Doon’s most valuable artifacts. You and yer friend were planning ta cross the bridge, leaving us to perish.”
Enough was enough. I bit down on Cabbage Guy’s hand. When he pulled it away, I shouted, “We were heading into the limbus to break the curse and save your kingdom, you idiot. That’s why I came back to Doon.”
“I thought you came back for love, because of your Calling?” I looked through the crowd and found the wounded expression of Gabriela Rosetti staring back at me.
“It was a lie to explain my sudden arrival.”
Beardy stepped between us, blocking Gabby from my view as his eyes narrowed critically. “How do ye know the limbus is caused by a curse?”
I froze, my eyes darting to Vee’s for help. She sighed in resignation and said, “From the witches’ spell book.”
Remembering HBO imagery of royal heads on pikes, I interjected, “I got it from the witches’ cottage. By myself. Alone.”
As the crowd reacted to that little confession bomb, Jamie’s gaze jumped from Vee to me and back again. I knew we would have more discussion concerning our field trip after we got out of this mess. If we got out of this mess.
Handing the axe off to one of his men, Beardy scowled at Vee. “And what did ye learn from the spell book?”
To her credit, Vee didn’t try to justify her motives. She just replied calmly, “That the curse is written on a Pictish stone somewhere inside the limbus. To break the stone we needed a weapon blessed by God and sanctified in battle.”
Jamie made a small noise of surprise. “Our trip inta the catacombs was about finding the Arm o’ the Bruce.”
“Yes.” Vee’s eyes begged Jamie to forgive her for not telling him the whole truth. “When I touched it, I had a vision of us — Kenna and me — leaving the ball and going to the bridge. Kenna needs to strike the Pictish stone containing the curse with the axe. That will break the spell.”
The crowd rippled with side conversations so that Vee had to shout to continue. “There’s more. In my vision, I saw the Brig o’ Doon covered in black petunias. If Kenna and I don’t do this now, the limbus will begin to infect the modern world too. Who knows how far it could spread? We’ve got to go now!”
For a moment, Beardy looked troubled. The evening clearly wasn’t going the way he had anticipated. He glared at Vee. “How do we know you’re telling the truth? That could be some story you created ta cover up yer grand escape.”
Rather than direct her answer to him, Vee implored her people. “You have to trust me. I would never abandon Doon. Everything I’ve done has been to save our kingdom. To save us all!”
Beardy scanned the horrified crowd realizing the tide had turned. Despite Vee’s transgressions, she’d regained the support of the people. They wanted to believe her. “Very well,” he barked. “If what ye say is true, then we’ll let you prove it.” He turned to his henchmen. “Get the wagons, lads.”
A group of Beardy’s men headed back toward the stables. In the hole they left, I saw one of the Queen’s Guard being held up by two other soldiers. Eòran. Barely conscious and beaten within an inch of his life, he lurched toward Vee. “Sorry, my queen,” he moaned. Then his eyes rolled back in his head as he passed out.
Horrified, Vee turned toward Beardy. “Please,” she implored. “Eòran needs a doctor. Let him go.”
Beardy nodded and the soldiers carrying Eòran disappeared into the crowd.
“Fiona, too,” Vee demanded. “We’ll go willingly so you don’t need her anymore.”
With another nod from the ringleader, the flunky holding Fiona stepped away. Although she’d remained admirably stoic up until this point, as soon as she was free she scrambled to Fergus with a sharp sob of relief. The big man enveloped her until she all but disappeared. Despite the tears that rolled down his mottled cheeks, Fergus was a lethal warrior. Beardy and his henchmen had made a huge mistake by targeting his bride. I’d no doubt that if given the chance, he’d slaughter them without remorse.
As two carts rumbled to a stop on the walking lane, Beardy motioned to a couple of his lackeys. “Seize the princes. Get ’em into the first wagon and bind their hands and feet. They can direct us ta the limbus.”
“No.” Vee gasped. “The princes stay. You’ve no quarrel with them.”
Beardy shook his head. “You’re out of favors, lassie. Besides, they’re leverage so ye and yer carrot-headed friend dinna flee.”
Harsh. But I’d been called worse.
“Please — ” Vee pleaded at the same moment Jamie said, “We’ll go.”
“Aye,” Duncan echoed, stepping forward. “We insist.”
Like lambs to the slaughter, Duncan and Jamie climbed into the back of the cart. Once they were settled, they offered their hands and feet to Beardy’s men for binding. Vee opened her mouth to protest and then closed it again. She knew they would never let us go off alone with the mob. Even if Duncan didn’t care for me the same way Jamie did for Vee, he was honorbound to protect me.
The man holding the Arm o’ the Bruce climbed into the driver’s seat of the second cart. Beardy threw the duffel into the back and gestured. “In you go, lassies.”
Climbing into the back of a wagon in voluminous skirts was no easy task. Instead of giving us a hand, Beardy watched us struggle and shimmy our way in. As soon as we complied, he climbed up on the running board to look out on the crowd. “If anyone tries to follow, we’ll kill both o’ Doon’s princes. If ye feel you must do somethin’, pray that the American queen can deliver us from the witches’ death.”
With those parting words, Beardy pulled himself up next to our driver, and we rumbled away. The two guards in the wagon with us sat so that their legs dangled over the back edge. Thankfully, they paid us very little attention as we bumped into the night. Once the castle faded into the distance, I scooted over to Vee and whispered, “My hair is coppery, not carroty.”
Vee blinked at me. “Does it really matter?”
“Absolutely.” When she didn’t answer, I asked, “So what’s the deal with the guy in charge, the Beardy dude? What did you do to him?”
“Sean MacNally? Nothing. He’s a blacksmith.”
“And the leader of the I-hate-Queen-Vee coalition.”
She sighed wearily, “I thought he was harmless, mostly. I still don’t believe he’d actually have killed Fiona, or Duncan and Jamie.”
I noted how she’d conveniently left out Eòran. “You never think badly of anyone . . . Not your dad for leaving you . . . Or Eric when he cheated on you with Steph . . . Not even Janet when she spent the rent money you earned on boxed wine and lotto tickets.” Vee’s mom had been a poster parent for the reason Child Protective Services existed, and yet my bestie always found a reason to give her another chance.
Vee glanced at the two men. “What’s your point, Ken?”
“My point is he’d murder us all — and then sleep like a baby. If the opportunity presents itself, maybe we should think about giving him a shove into the limbus.”
She sighed in resignation. “No. We were heading that way anyway. This way you’re spared the trauma of riding a horse, and I’m spared from hearing about your horrific horse-riding experience. I’d call that win-win.”
Despite her teasing words, she couldn’t quite sell her sunny side of the street perspective. But she was right about riding horseback. Remembering my aching thighs from the time we’d galloped to the bridge to save Jamie, I counted the cart as a small blessing. The only horse I wanted to see was the wooden kind used for building scenery.
Grabbing the duffel, I conceded her point by saying, “We should conserve our energy . . . And change shoes.”
Rummaging in the bag, I pulled out two pairs of Nikes and threw the purple size sixes at her. We were too exposed to change out of our gowns, but at least we could face the zombie fungus in sensible footwear.
Before closing
the bag, I fished out the rings and handed Vee hers before slipping mine on. That way I would have some warning of the limbus before we drove obliviously into it. I was not about to leave our safety in the hands of Beardy and his half-wit henchmen — discernment was clearly not in their wheelhouse, or they wouldn’t have opposed Vee.
For the next hour we bumped along in silence. I had just begun to doze off when a whistle sounded from the first cart. It pulled over to the side of the road, and our vehicle followed. Beardy hopped down and approached us. “The path to the Brig o’ Doon is over yon, on the other side of the clearing. We go the rest of the way on foot.”
In the first wagon, one of the henchmen raised his sword. With two thwacks! he cut the bindings on Duncan’s and Jamie’s legs. The princes climbed awkwardly from the cart with their hands still tied behind their backs. Several henchmen surrounded them as Cabbage Guy wrenched my arm and commanded, “Walk.”
The full moon sat high in the sky — just like in Vee’s vision. Pale light bathed the field, making it easier to pick our way across the uneven ground. I could just make out the heavily wooded path to the Brig o’ Doon through the trees at the far end of the clearing.
As we approached the forest, the path grew more discernable, as did the narrow line of black petunias that cut across it — and the smell. On the other side of the flowers, I clearly saw the bare-boned trees and dank, oozing moss of the zombie fungus. Only this time, I could glimpse movement and hear creatures rustling in the darkness. Chills crept up my back as I tried not to picture what might be scurrying, scuttling, or even slithering on the other side.
“What is it?” Vee’s concern reminded me that for the moment I was safe.
“See the flowers?” I asked.
“Yes. I can see them clearly in the moonlight, but beyond . . .” She shuddered as if suddenly scared or freezing — maybe both. “Beyond is like there’s no moon at all. It’s nearly pitch black.”