Doon (Doon Novel, A)

by Langdon, Lorie

  After several agonizing seconds, Patrick lowered his sword and called for his cohorts to release Fergus. Duncan regarded the men with a steely nod. “Go home to your families. Tha’s an order.”

  The resounding “Yes, m’ laird!” filled the tight corridor. Then the guards turned and scattered, their footsteps echoing noisily off the cobbled stones as they ran.

  Gideon lay unconscious as rivulets of sweat trickled across his twitching body. Duncan unfastened a key ring from the guard’s belt and rushed the massive chapel door. At my feet, Gideon convulsed, causing his fist to unclench, and with a soft clink the Rings of Aontacht rolled from his hand.

  “What’s he doing with the rings?” I asked as Fiona stooped to pick them up.

  “I don’t know why I didn’t consider it before. My mum told me that many years ago a servant of the witch used one of the Rings of Aontach to enter Doon. The ring was enspelled with a curse.”

  “A curse?” Kenna asked, the last part of her question drowned out by Duncan swearing as he tried various keys in the lock.

  Bouncing on my toes in impatience, I heard Fiona reply, “Aye. Wrapped around it—like a parasite and attaching itself to the first Doonian it touched.”

  Kenna’s eyes widened. “Could the curse have caused Gideon to kill his own men?”

  Fiona’s fair head dipped in terrible confirmation. “Aye. With a spell this strong, ’tis verra likely the witch’s been in control of him. Gideon could’ve done terrible things and no’ had any recollection after the deed was done.”

  Her words cut through me like an icy wind, stealing my breath. The journal held a curse and when Jamie touched it he hadn’t been harmed as I feared, but he had changed. For the first time since I’d arrived in Doon, he’d looked through me as if I wasn’t even there.

  With a loud creak, Duncan pushed open the chapel door. “Got it!”

  I shoved past him while calling Jamie’s name. Halfway down the aisle, I stopped, searching the cavernous space. “I don’t see him.”

  Duncan pointed to a closed door off the main altar. “He’d be in the annex.”

  I ran. Jamie’d had the journal for hours—plenty of time for him to turn into a possessed monster like Gideon. I slammed my shoulder against the door and shoved the handle, but it didn’t move. “Duncan, do you have a key?”

  “Nay, it only locks from the inside.”

  I rushed backward and then ran forward, flinging myself against the door with all my strength. But I bounced back, struggling to keep my footing. “It won’t budge.”

  “Step back.” Duncan waved me a safe distance away. With the count of three, Duncan and Fergus hit the door together. Their combined strength splintered the wood into kindling.

  Impatiently, I shoved my way between them. “Jamie!”

  The small room was empty. Fear balled in the pit of my stomach. I whirled around to Kenna, my voice thick in my own ears. “Ken, he’s not here.”

  Duncan stepped to one side, allowing Fiona access to the deserted chamber. “What do you make of this?” he asked.

  She passed in front of me, her eyes locked straight ahead. Across the small, dim room, Aunt Gracie’s journal sat open on the altar railing. It flickered with a strange violet light. The dancing purple flames reminded me of burning copper, but without the heat. Even from a distance, I could feel the chill emanating from the flame.

  Fiona drew in a deep, controlled breath. After a moment, her eyes widened with alarm. She turned toward Kenna and me. “Remember how I said there’s good and bad power beyond our comprehension? This is the worst kind. Verra old—verra potent evil.”

  My stomach clenched into a knot. Dreading the answer, I asked, “If it’s that powerful, does it mean she’s been controlling me? Using me to hurt the kingdom and Jamie in some way?”

  A sob hitched in my throat, and rendered me unable to continue. Large, hot tears rolled down my cheeks. Had I been the witch’s pawn all along, just as Jamie’s dreams had predicted?

  Gently, Fiona placed her hand on my shoulder. “There’s an energy ta everything, Veronica, and yours is not evil. I kin find no trace of the witch on you. And this spell was only meant for one.”

  I sniffed, fighting against my useless tears. “But I brought the journal into Doon.”

  “And Doon’s Protector brought ye here … for a purpose. Don’t doubt that now when yer faith is ta be tested.”

  Faith? It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in a higher power, but I had never put my faith in anyone besides myself—until coming here.

  “I agree with Fiona.” Duncan attempted a reassuring smile that didn’t reach his eyes, before redirecting his comments to his fellow countrywoman. “But what of my brother? What are ye able to discern?”

  Fiona’s countenance shone with gentle empathy. “I’m sorry, but I believe the witch has enthralled him.”

  Although it was what I’d expected myself, her words were not a theory, but a statement. “Wait! How could you possibly know that?” Fear and confusion made my voice sharp.

  Fergus placed a calming hand on my shoulder. “Fiona has the gift o’ discernment. She can see beyond the natural realm.”

  That explained a lot about my new friend’s propensity for the prophetic. A million questions about her ability swirled in my head, but I pushed them aside. “Fiona, what else can you see?”

  Rather than reply, Fiona held up her hand in a gesture I took to mean wait. From around her neck she unclasped a simple golden cross. It dangled from her hand like a rosary as she cautiously stepped toward the journal. With her approach, the diary burned brighter and colder.

  Her voice sounded fluid and far away. “This journal is not evil. ’Tis been misused. It belonged to a Keeper—one who’s been called from Doon to protect it from the outside.”

  Softly, Kenna said, “But Aunt Gracie was an outsider.”

  Fiona raised her hands tentatively over the violet flames. “Aye. But she took Doon inta her heart and made it her home.”

  Her eyes closed in concentration and her lips moved noiselessly. In a trancelike state, she continued to share her revelations. “After she died, it fell into the clutches of evil. ’Tis a seeking spell the witch’s working from the other side o’ the bridge. This one’s meant specifically for the king. Once Jamie touched the journal, the witch’s spell was set inta motion.”

  Shivers racked my body as I admitted, “I knew it. In my dreams I saw him touch the journal and die. So I kept the book a secret for his protection. Fiona, is he …” my throat closed, but I choked out the last word. “Alive?”

  “Aye.”

  I grasped the back of the nearest pew as bittersweet relief swept over me. It wasn’t too late. But we still had to save him.

  Duncan began to walk the length of the tiny room. He paced like a caged animal whose only wish was to run free. “Where do we find my brother?”

  Fiona made a few more silent petitions. “The witch compelled him ta come ta her. He crossed the Brig o’ Doon on horseback as soon as it opened. But—I canna see beyond the bridge.”

  Impatient for action, Duncan gripped the hilt of his weapon. “Please, lass. Try.”

  With a small nod, Fiona reached toward me. “Will ye help me, please, Veronica?”

  “Me?” I squeaked. “What can I do?”

  Fiona gravely met my eyes as she reached for my hand. “Ye’ve experienced waking visions of Jamie and dreams regarding our kingdom, have ye not?”

  I nodded, the vision of the witch in the king’s chamber flashing in my mind as she placed the gold and ruby ring in my palm. “Ye’ll need this.”

  Regardless of the things I’d seen, I was skeptical, but I’d do anything to help Jamie. So I let Fiona lead me toward the flickering light of the journal.

  “Dinna be afraid.” The violet flames reflected in Fiona’s eyes, turning them an eerie purple. “Put the ring on and focus with all yer heart on overcoming the witch’s evil—and finding yer true love.”

  I slipped on the
ring, and squeezed my eyes closed as Fiona raised our joined hands over the burning book. My terror morphed into a living thing breathing down my neck, my thoughts ricocheting between Jamie’s blank stare after he took the journal to Addie’s gloating face to Jamie lying dead at my feet. Clenching my teeth, I squeezed Fiona’s fingers. My pulse accelerated, forcing rapid breaths from my lungs. I would not allow the witch to win.

  I lowered my hand and peeked at the burning book; the flames danced before me, taunting me. Nothing had changed. In desperation, I turned to Fiona. “It’s not working! I can’t do this.”

  Fiona’s calm voice urged me on. “Ye have ta let go of yer fear and be a vessel. Let yourself believe, Veronica.”

  Believe. I stopped focusing on the witch. Instead I focused on my love for Jamie … the joy I felt every time he laughed, the warmth in his eyes meant exclusively for me, how his unguarded smile refreshed my battered soul. No matter what happened in the future, whether we ended up together or not, I would do everything within my power to save him now.

  I believe.

  The pages of Aunt Gracie’s journal began to flip wildly as the violet blaze turned to ice and shattered with a heart-stopping explosion. Shards of frozen flames blanketed Fiona and I with frigid purple debris as we rocked backward. Fiona’s wide eyes radiated shock as she steadied herself. “The witch’s curse has shattered. It’s broken.”

  Instead of feeling relief and a sense of accomplishment as I leaned over the book and examined the unmarred pages, dread bloomed in my chest.

  “That’s a good thing, right?” Kenna moved closer to stand beside me.

  My hand trembled as I reached out and touched the journal. In a flash, I could see Jamie—bound, his face slack in unconsciousness, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. The vision faded, but the image stayed imprinted on my mind’s eye.

  I blinked away the horrifying picture and answered Kenna’s question. “I don’t think so. It means she doesn’t need it anymore … because she has something better. She has Jamie.”

  Duncan swore and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “All she has to do is keep him until the Brig o’ Doon closes. If the ruler o’ Doon fails to return by the end of the Centennial …” His words faded out.

  Fiona finished the terrible truth as Fergus reached for her hand. “… the Covenant will be broken, and Doon will vanish inta the mists of oblivion forever.”

  “And she wins.” Rage pumped through my veins, screaming for an outlet. I closed the journal with a bang. “But we’re not going to let that happen. Are we?”

  On cue, they snapped out of their collective despair. “Nay!”

  “Of course, not!”

  “We fight—to the death if need be!”

  “For Doon!”

  As they spoke over one another, their actions became focused and decisive. Fiona said a short prayer, Duncan and Fergus quickly inventoried their weapons, and Kenna met my gaze, resolution blazing in her eyes.

  “Let’s go!” I grabbed the journal and led our ragtag rescue team back down the aisle of the chapel.

  “Where, exactly, are we going?” Kenna touched my arm as we moved into the dim corridor.

  “Alloway.” Practically running, I turned the corner toward the stables. The fastest way to the bridge was on horseback.

  “What’s the plan?” Kenna asked, keeping pace with me.

  “Rescue Jamie. Save Doon. Take Addie down.”

  That was it. My master plan boiled down to seven little words. It sounded so simple, so straightforward. But how to accomplish it was a different matter. I had no idea how to find Jamie or win against a wicked witch with supernatural powers. But I did know that I would fight for the people I loved, no matter the cost. If ever in my life I’d needed to stand and fight, it was now.

  I was done running.

  CHAPTER 32

  Veronica

  The bridge should’ve been open. I blinked again and willed my burning eyes to see something different. But it was no use. The Brig o’ Doon remained a ruin surrounded by impenetrable walls of swirling mist, as if the Centennial hadn’t happened.

  Upon our arrival, Fiona had discerned a powerful curse that kept the portal to Alloway from opening. But I refused to believe the Protector of Doon would bring us all this way and then let evil win. There had to be another way.

  Fergus and Duncan had gone in separate directions, to search the borders for any opening that might get us to Alloway. Fiona and Kenna, meanwhile, sat huddled in their elaborate gowns on the cold stone ground, the former engaged in supernatural introspection while the later dozed with her head slumped against her knees. Both girls appeared to twitch in the flickering light of the torches at the base of the bridge.

  All too aware of the minutes ticking away, I turned to Fiona. “Any idea what time it is out there?” I tipped my head in the direction of where Alloway should have been. Wherever Jamie was, time was passing differently, more quickly but in a way I didn’t have enough data to quantify.

  Fiona’s hazel eyes brimmed with fear not only for her king but for all those she loved. Her voice, when she spoke, sounded thick with despair. “Nay. I wasna born at the last Centennial.”

  Her anguish mirrored my own. I wanted to ask her if she sensed anything that could help us, but I didn’t want to add to her misery. I knew if she had, she’d have said so. She was pushing herself nearly as hard as I was.

  Instead, I paced the cobbled stones at the mouth of the Brig o’ Doon. Each pass caused my legs to ache a bit more. Without a clear focus for my energy, fatigue started to set in. After an indeterminable amount of time, Duncan’s sputtering lamp materialized in the heavily wooded forest. A moment later shadows leapt in the opposite direction announcing Fergus had returned as well.

  Duncan, slightly out of breath as if he’d been sprinting, spoke first. “This side is impassible.”

  “Aye,” Fergus confirmed as he approached. “My way as well.”

  At the sound of voices, Kenna sat up, blinking against the artificial light. “Did they find a way across?”

  “No.” My single word came out harsher than intended as frustration threatened to consume me from the inside out. Any problem could be solved under the right circumstances. Usually I could step outside of myself and examine different perspectives, but at the moment all I could feel was hopeless. We would never find the right solution in the time we had left.

  “This is useless.” The girl who shared my brain spoke my exact thoughts. “I say we go back to the castle.”

  Duncan and Fergus nodded in agreement as Fiona said, “Aye. It’s time to accept what’s ta be.”

  Yes, we should go back. Wait! What was happening? Kenna wanting to go back to Castle MacCrae? Duncan and Fergus meekly accepting the inevitable destruction of their kingdom? And Fiona’s reaction was most telling of all. She wanted to give up? She was the most tenacious person I’d ever met, besides myself.

  With a sinking feeling I shouted for everyone to get off the bridge. Despite some grumbling, my friends complied. When we reconvened about thirty feet away, I asked, “Everybody still want to give up?”

  Overlapping exclamations of disgust and determination punctuated the quiet.

  “Give up?”

  “Never!”

  “Death first!”

  Only Fiona remained silent. After a moment she announced gravely, “It was an attack. I should have sensed it. Despair is the Deceiver’s weapon.”

  I opened my mouth to ask the group what we should do next, but before I could speak Muir Lea filled my senses. A flash of snowy peaks, a sandy beach, and an ocean crashing against rock told me the impossible. “I know how we get to Alloway.”

  Like a good lieutenant, Duncan was instantly alert and at my side. “How, Veronica?”

  “Through the mountains.”

  Fergus spoke first. “You’ve gone daft!”

  Duncan’s face mirrored the other boy’s skepticism, and with good reason. The first time I’d tried it, I’d ne
arly destroyed Doon … but that still, small voice that had been guiding me since Bainbridge insisted that this time was different. Unfortunately, persuading Fergus and Duncan would waste valuable time—time we didn’t have. Turning to my best ally in the group, I said to Fiona, “With every fiber of my being, I know this will work—that the portal will be open for us.”

  Fiona voiced her agreement. “Veronica speaks the truth. We must cross through the mountains.”

  Kenna reached for Duncan’s hand. “We’re in.”

  “Me as well. With one condition.” Fergus’s gaze moved across our faces before looking up into the sky. “Fiona stays here. I’ll not risk her life on the chance the mountain border is passable.”

  Spinning the giant around to face her, Fiona cried, “Ye don’t get ta decide for me, Fergus Lockhart. If the mountain pass doesn’t work, we’re all goners anyway.”

  She gave him a shove but he captured her hands and held them over his heart. “Please, Fee. I will follow Veronica, but I need ta know yer safe.” His eyes softened as his voice dropped. “I know I’m not the manliest of lads, but I still need ta protect my own. If anything happened ta you, I’d never be able ta live wi’ myself.”

  As I watched, the girl’s resolve melted. All her tumultuous affection poured from her hazel eyes, causing the object of her feelings to turn forty shades of pink.

  Sensibly, Duncan added, “With Jamie and me gone, the people will be afraid and lookin’ for someone to blame. We need someone who can speak the voice o’ reason. And we’ll be needin’ a welcome party for the Destined who cross when we restore the bridge. We’re depending on you, Fiona.”

  Tearing her eyes away from her love, Fiona gave Duncan a curt nod. “Dinna worry m’ laird. I’ll see ta the people.”

  She hugged him and then Kenna. As they parted, Fiona pressed Cameron’s ring, the emerald one, into Kenna palm. The look on my BFF’s face told me she didn’t want it, until Fiona slipped it on her finger and lightly admonished, “You didna choose the ring, it chose you. And it continues to have need o’ you.”