Forever Doon

by Carey Corp

  The clouds shifted again and a ray of light glinted on an object buried in the snow beside the ribbon. Falling flat on my stomach, I strained to reach the ledge, rocks and dirt tumbling with me. Unable to see, I rifled through stones and hunks of frozen mud until something hard and cold brushed my fingertips. I scooped it up along with a handful of snow. Yanking my arm back, I sat up and fell on my backside, opening my trembling fist. Gold and crimson sparkled with flecks of ice. I gasped as tears streamed down my cheeks, and I stared in wonder at the most beautiful sight I’d ever laid eyes on—the ruby Ring of Aontacht.

  Perhaps Jamie’s spirit was with me after all.

  CHAPTER 4

  Jamie

  MacTavish, Campbell, Lockhart . . .

  I recited the names of our people in my head, a trick Duncan and I had devised as kids to distract us when we were sick or in pain.

  MacG—

  Knuckles smashed into my nose and my head snapped back with a crack. I straightened and licked the warm fluid gushing over my lips. After days of being beaten to a bloody pulp, I’d become disturbingly accustomed to the metallic taste. I swallowed, and for the hundredth time considered why I wasn’t dead.

  While I placed considerable faith in the Protector to keep me alive, the irony of escaping the gallows only to be pummeled to death by a mindless dimwit had not escaped me. Before I could brace, Sean MacNally’s fist slammed into my already massacred ribs like a hammer, pushing the air from my lungs and stealing my vision.

  Saints! I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to stay alert. Rosetti . . . MacPhee . . . Fairshaw. Blacking-out was not an option. The last time I’d lost consciousness, I’d awoken as a knife sliced open my chest. That was when the true torment began.

  “Good Lord, MacCrae, would it kill ye to show a bit o’ weakness,” Sean hissed in my ear before he rammed the butt of his knife in the precise spot where he’d just fractured my rib. My knees buckled as the bone broke loose, ripping a path of fire through my insides. Slowly, the pain fanned out, less sharp but no less horrendous, and I became aware of the shackles ripping the flesh from my wrists as they bore my weight.

  I sank lower and lower until I floated weightless, swallowed by warmth. The agony abated, and I opened my eyes to aqua blue, sunlight shimmering through translucent waters. Just like the postcard of the Caribbean Sea Veronica had shown me. Weightless, I moved my arms through the silken texture and spun in a circle to find her there, floating, eyes shining brighter than the turquoise surrounding us, her dark hair fanned around her face in mermaid-like waves. Then she smiled; that beautiful smile that had the power to ignite my soul. She reached out. My arms moved with excruciating slowness as red drops descended like rain. Faster and faster, their crimson spread through the blue. I kicked forward and yelled her name, water flooding my lungs.

  With a gasp, my eyes popped open and I choked as icy liquid cascaded over my head and into my mouth. The loss of her felt like a tiny death. But she still lived and I would keep fighting. For her.

  “I’m awake, blast it!” I regained my feet and shook my soaked hair, droplets of water and blood flying.

  “So he does speak.” Sean dropped the bucket with a plunk.

  “There’s a difference between speakin’ and cryin’, MacNally, as ye’ll do well to remember when I get my hands on ye.” For days, I’d kept my silence, afraid if I made a peep I may never stop screaming.

  Sean’s beady eyes narrowed, his mouth taking on a cruel set that should’ve had me shaking. The man had caused me more suffering in the last days than a body should experience over a lifetime. He stalked forward, grasped my shoulder in one hand and my arm in the other, and wrenched them in opposite directions, effectively tearing the ligament around my collarbone. I let the pain drive me. Leaning into his face, I growled, “I will kill you.”

  “Now, now, my sweet prince, Sean is only followin’ orders.”

  Relief washed through me at the sound of the witch’s voice. And I hated myself for it. Hated my weakness. The part of me that knew she brought respite, however brief, and craved her presence.

  Sean pushed a single finger against the arm hanging limp in the shackles above my head and laughed. I swallowed a groan as black closed in on me again. Inhaling as deeply as my busted rib would allow, my head began to clear. I could not let my guard down now.

  “That will be all, Sean darlin’.” Addie caressed Sean’s bearded face and gazed into his bloodshot eyes. He reached for her waist, but she stepped back. “Not yet, young man. But ye’ve earned a meal and a rest. Run along.” She flicked her fingers toward the door and turned, her violet gaze raking over me. “It’s my turn to play.”

  Sean marched out the door and shut it behind him. Clearly, he was under her spell, but his hatred for me was real, which served to fuel the witch’s evil inside him and likely strengthened her hold on his mind.

  Addie slinked toward me and my heart accelerated. She seemed to want to take her centuries-old grudge against Doon out on me personally, as if hurting me could bring back her mother and sisters, or her perceived claim to the throne through the affections of King Angus. Underestimating her would be a grave mistake.

  And yet, with every step she took, my anticipation grew for the magic that would mend my bones and flesh, and take away the agony of the injuries clawing through me with unbearable intensity. Muscles trembling, I closed my eyes against her, drawing on the vision of Veronica’s face. Her smile.

  The witch stopped so close, I could feel her breath on my neck. “I know . . .” Fingers trailed down my cheekbone to brush against my lips. “I know you want what I can give you, James. I feel you shaking. But first, tell me . . . Gideon just completed an extensive search of the catacombs, and they’re clear. Tell me where she is. Where are your people hiding?”

  “I’ve told ye. I dinna know. Your men caught me before I could find them myself.”

  She pressed close, and the heat of her body against my damp skin made me shudder. “But you must have some ideas. Hmm?”

  When I was silent, she walked her fingers along my chest, up to my injured shoulder. The heat of her magic penetrated muscle and bone, her painted nails digging into my flesh. I clamped my teeth together to keep from sighing in relief as the ligaments and bones snapped back into place.

  “I have more where that came from, young prince.” She took a step back and smoothed her hands down the silk hugging her hips. At first glance she was beautiful, but all one had to do was look beyond the surface to see her true nature—the evil lurking beneath the façade. I knew her plan, had figured it out the first day Sean had beat me senseless and she’d then healed me with her sick, sweet words and a wave of her hand. She couldn’t enthrall me like the rest because I’d already pledged to the true queen, but she could condition me; break me down and then build me up until I became her slave.

  Much like I’d trained Veronica’s pup with a sharp word and the reward of a bit of bacon, the witch had me salivating for what she could provide. But I was no dog. I would accept her healing, if only to stay alive, and then I would turn on her with a vengeance.

  Addie must have seen the set of my jaw or the renewed determination in my eyes, because she ran her fingers down my bare chest. “If it’s possible, I think ye are even more attractive beaten down as ye are now. All covered in blood and sweat.”

  Her touch left a trail of fire, scorching my flesh. I hissed through my teeth and stared at the arched beams above her head, reigning in my reaction. I refused to give her the satisfaction, but the trick of reciting Doonian names was of no help. The burning continued in loops and swirls across my left pectoral muscle as the witch muttered under her breath.

  Exhaling the stench of my melting flesh, I lowered my gaze to the corner of the antechamber where I’d kissed Veronica for the last time, right after I’d given her the ribbons for our handfasting. It was a moment I’d relived over and over again in this room to push out my new reality, but as much as it grieved me, the memory had los
t its sharpness, becoming fuzzy around the edges like a dream I’d invented in my head.

  “There, all finished.” Addie lifted her hand from my smoldering chest and brushed her palms together in satisfaction. “Take a look at my masterpiece, young James.”

  When I leveled my gaze on the witch’s face, her smile resembled that blasted fictional cat from one of my brother’s books—wide and satisfied. Shutting out all emotion, I met her eyes, but did not look at her handiwork on my chest.

  “I do so enjoy the strong, stolid Jamie, but I need the carefree young man to appreciate my art.” She waved her hand and the scalding pain faded to a residual sting. “I have more healin’ where tha’ came from, and I’ll remove your shackles and perhaps give ye a real bed for the night. All I ask is that ye look.”

  At the mention of healing, all my wounds throbbed in a symphony of agony. My legs buckled and the metal cuffs cut into my lacerated wrists. An end to the torment and a good night’s sleep was more than I could resist. Regaining my feet, I glanced down at my chest to find a snake swallowing its own tail branded into my skin. An ouroboros. The serpent in a perpetual circle had been a symbol for witchery in Doon for generations.

  Anger erupted from my core, pure and hot. I could not endure having her evil mark upon my flesh forever. With a swell of strength, I surged toward her, the chains screeching as I strained against them. “Take it off, now!”

  Startled, she stumbled back a step. I bared my teeth in a growl that was more primal than intelligent, and a dark smile lit her face, her eyes glowing vivid violet. My reaction had been her goal; the outburst that Sean, with his continuous beatings, had not been able to evoke from me.

  Breathing heavily, I clenched my jaw and stepped back, fighting to regain my internal equilibrium. Protector, help me. I cannot let her turn me into her animal. I am Prince James Thomas Kellan MacCrae, the fourth. The queen’s betrothed and the future king of Doon. My soul belongs to you. My heart belongs to Vee. And my life belongs to Doon.

  “Are you praying?” Addie spit out the word like a rancid piece of meat, causing a droplet of her spit to hit my face.

  Realizing too late that I’d been mouthing my plea, I clamped my lips shut and raised a challenging gaze. Nothing she could do would stop me.

  She gave her wrist a quick flick and a black, scaly snake with fangs bared flew from her hand. I jerked back as it coiled around my arm, sinking its tiny, dagger-like teeth into my skin. With my arms positioned above my head, I was eye-level with the animal wrapped around my bicep. I bit the inside of my cheek as the muscles of its body contracted and it attacked me, fangs sinking in over and over, chewing through my flesh.

  I turned away. It isn’t real. It isn’t real. The gnawing stopped, and when I looked back, it was as if the snake had fused with my skin, leaving another ouroboros branded around my bicep.

  “I could cover your body with them to remind you that you are mine.”

  She dragged the tip of her fingernail around the fresh brand, and all the fight left me. Crashing after my rush of adrenaline, I slumped in exhaustion. Unable even to keep my head upright, I let it loll against my shoulder as Addie continued her rant.

  “Your Protector will no’ save you, nor will your tiny queen, because she believes ye are dead. She’s probably already chosen some other young buck to be her consort. Girls like that cannot bear to be alone.”

  Whether Veronica assumed me dead or no’, I knew better than to believe she’d moved on. But Addie had no conception of the Calling, love, or family. “Duncan will come for me.”

  Her laugh grated like stone against stone. “That’s right, you don’t know!” She clapped her hands together, her smile widening before turning into a sneer. “Your brother is gone.”

  Panic squeezed my chest and I lifted my head. “What do ye mean, gone?”

  “He abandoned you. Crossed the Brig o’ Doon wi’ a third of your precious kingdom.”

  “Yer lying.” But as soon as I spoke, I remembered Vee’s vision. The Protector had shown her that either Duncan or I would need to leave in order to save Doon. “He’ll come back. My brother will come back for me.”

  “With the Brig o’ Doon destroyed? Doubtful.”

  “The mountain pass . . .”

  “Blocked.” She shrugged and pivoted on her heel. She was halfway across the room before she turned back. “Don’t you see, James? You’re completely alone.”

  I didn’t respond, but my gut tightened as I watched her slink away, taking my hope of relief with her.

  She lifted the single lantern from its hook by the door and then said over her shoulder, “I’ve changed my mind about healing you tonight. You can hang there and rot.”

  Ensconced in utter darkness, I tried to fight off desperation. My entire body ached from being unable to move more than a few inches. My wounds and broken bones throbbed with every beat of my heart, and panic began to set in. No one knew I’d survived. They weren’t coming for me. The flame of hope that had fired my resistance dimmed.

  I let my head fall between my shoulders, the strain on my arms and back near unbearable. I didn’t know how much more I could withstand. But I knew I could no’ let Addie use me as a weapon. Death would be preferable to becoming her pawn.

  Squeezing my eyes closed, lest my addled brain play tricks with the shadows, I pleaded with the Protector. Please, protect my brother and those with him on the other side. Keep Veronica in your care every moment. Give her wisdom and strength to lead and find a way to take back our kingdom.

  My queen was captivatingly beautiful, but she was also the most pig-headed, determined, brilliant woman I’d ever met. If anyone could keep Doon from ruin, it was her.

  Even if it is without me.

  CHAPTER 5

  Duncan

  Mackenna’s fingers tightened around mine. Her cool touch caused my heart to speed ever so slightly, and I suppressed a shiver. So as not to be intimidating, I sat on the divan in the parlor of Dunbrae Cottage opposite the wee lass claiming to have materialized from half a world away.

  “Tell us what transpired,” I coaxed. “Be as exact as you can in your account. Any detail—no matter how small—could be of importance.”

  Cheska Santos nodded and raised her delicate hand to sweep the dark fringe of hair from her eyes. Despite the nervous gesture, her gaze was clear as she began to tell her story.

  “This morning I woke up in my bed in Tayabas, which is a little over three hours from the capital. Although I didn’t have anything specific I needed to do, I felt an urgency to go out. It was colder than usual, so I dressed in layers. My parents had already left for work, so I wrote them a note to tell them not to worry—that I was fine and that I loved them. I knew it was an odd thing to write at the time, but it seemed right.”

  She paused, her somber gaze darting between Mackenna and myself as if daring us to contradict her. Mackenna offered her an encouraging smile. “Please don’t stress out about what you did. No one’s going to judge you. Everyone here’s been down the rabbit hole at least once.”

  The girl laughed in response. “I do feel like Alice right about now. What happened next was curious indeed. When I left my house, I walked until I reached Malagonlong Bridge, which crosses the Dumacaa River. It’s a historic landmark because it was built during the Spanish colonial era, but the stone arches are stained from age and overgrown with plants.

  “When I was a small child, my cousin told me that the ghosts of our ancestors, who were forced to build the bridge, still roamed the structure. So I always went out of my way to avoid it. But this morning, it called to me . . . It might have been the ghosts, or possibly the bridge itself. Either way, I felt compelled to cross.”

  Cheska stood, as if caught up in the moment. At full height, her dark head was level with my abdomen. Having no people of Filipino ethnicity in Doon, the closest person to her coloring was Sofia Rosetti. The girl’s skin was darker, her hair straighter, eyes more exotic in their almond shape than the Scotch-Italian g
irl from home, but like Sofia, her diminutive stature contained a brave spirit.

  “As I stepped onto the ancient stones, disembodied voices began to wail. I wanted to turn and run but I couldn’t move, except to walk forward. When I was about halfway across, the bridge began to shimmer with light. The wailing turned to thunder, and as the light took shape I realized I was not in the presence of ghosts but of angels. The light and noise grew with each step until I had to shut my eyes and cover my ears to continue.” The girl lifted her hands to her face in demonstration. “My body felt light, as if I were about to float way.

  “At some point, I must have dropped to my knees. I remember laying my face against the mossy stones. I’m not sure how long I stayed prostrate on the bridge—it felt like both hours and seconds. As if the laws of time and nature no longer applied.

  “Suddenly, the sensations stopped. When I looked about, I was kneeling on a grassy bank, facing an unfamiliar river and Malagonlong Bridge was nowhere to be seen. The air was much colder than in Tayabas. Although clearly not Wonderland, I knew immediately that something fantastical had happened. And that’s when Mrs. Fairshaw found me on the banks of the River Doon in Scotland.”

  Caledonia, who was nearly a full head taller than Cheska, stood and placed a matronly arm round the girl’s shoulders. “The poor, wee thing asked where she was, and I told her.”

  Cheska nodded. “I could scarcely believe it.”

  Stepping up behind us, Fiona said in a low voice not meant to be overheard by our new guest, “Despite her experience, she seems remarkably clear-witted.”

  Maybe a wee bit too clear . . . The soldier in me cautioned against accepting the girl blindly at her word. Squaring my shoulders, I leveled my gaze on the foreigner. “Does what happened scare you?”