Doon (Doon Novel, A) (24 page)

N
ear-death experiences … Broadway would have us believe that they serve a greater purpose, like bringing reluctant lovers together. In some instances, it might be true. But for other relationships, it’s the trigger that shatters them apart like glass. What these events don’t do is significantly change the game. After the danger passes, the obstacles from before are still there, patiently waiting for the opportunity to dominate our lives once again.

Apparently, the other thing near death caused was fatigue. After a brief account of the blizzard and the hunting lodge, Vee crashed. By the time Fiona brought tea, she was sawing logs.

Not wanting to spend the evening alone, I invited Fiona to stay. I wasn’t sure she would, since my bestie had instigated Snowmageddon. But I liked to think that Fiona had become the kind of friend who would stand by us, mistakes and all.

Just to be sure, I decided to attack the elephant in the room head on. “You’re probably counting the seconds until the bridge opens tomorrow night, huh?”

Fiona placed the tea service on the little table in front of the settee and began to prepare our cups. “Far from it. I’ll be quite sad ta see you and Veronica go.”

“After we nearly destroyed your kingdom? Doubtful.”

The girl pushed a lock of strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear and made a noise that sounded like
piffttt
. “It’s good ta be reminded of our own mortality now and again. Reminds us what’s really important in the final moments.”

“And what would that be—for you?” The moment the question fell from my lips, I couldn’t help but answer for myself. The image of the dark-haired prince with an easy smile and a fierce love of his realm filled my thoughts.

Fiona paused thoughtfully. “If it were truly the end, I’d want ta be with the person I loved best in all the world.”

Her expression was so strange—so astute and knowing—that I couldn’t help but worry she could read minds. Specifically mine. Averting my gaze, I folded a plaid blanket I’d left in a heap on the floor. “But you never thought the kingdom was coming to an end, did you?”

“Nay. I’ve faith you and Vee were both brought to Doon for a purpose. Ye couldna undo the Covenant unless it was the Protector’s will.” Finished preparing tea, she uncovered a tray of delicious-looking pastries. “My mum says I’ve a divine gift. Sight o’ the supernatural.”

“Isn’t that like demons and zombies and stuff? I thought Doonians didn’t believe in magic.”

“The supernatural is about good and evil. The working of spiritual things beyond our understanding.” She gestured I should sit with her. As I settled, she handed me a porcelain cup and saucer. “My gift merely gives me an insight into the eternal realm.”

Her transparency encouraged me to show her the same
measure of honesty. As I helped myself to a strawberry and chocolate puff, I admitted, “I’m not sure I buy all that.”

“Fair enough.” She smiled and took a dainty sip from her cup before asking, “Do you mind if I give ye something to ponder?”

“Not at all.” No one had ever asked me before if I minded them sharing their beliefs. I found myself surprisingly interested in what she would say.

“Would ye admit that the Protector o’ Doon has dominion over our kingdom?” I nodded, which prompted her to continue while I nibbled on my treat. “So our enchantment comes from the eternal realm. And yet it seems the Rings of Aontacht brought ye across the Brig o’ Doon by magic.”

She paused to look at me sagely, before asking, “So which do you think it was—the Protector’s will or magic which brought ye here?”

This felt like one of those baffling logic questions my dad was so fond of … If a plane traveling from Spain to South America crashes in the Alaskan tundra, how many licks does it take the survivors to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop? I always hated those things; I mean, why worry about random events that could never happen? With no good answer to her question, I shrugged and waited for her to continue.

“Sometimes the Protector’s will and the means he uses ta bring it about seem like magic. I can’t say for certain that magic doesn’t exist, since the witch would tell you her evil power comes from magic. But I’m of the opinion that she possesses no power in and of herself, that ’tis the Deceiver working through her.”

My comprehension of her words was profound. “That’s why Gideon and his followers are out to get us. They think we’re pawns of the dark side?”

“Aye. They’ve forgotten the evil one isn’t the only one with
power. The physical laws of nature do not apply to the one who created them.”

We were roughly the same age, and yet in that moment she seemed like a wise old soul. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was a result of the slower aging process or something unique to Fiona.

“There’s something I don’t get …” I set down my plate and began to pace about the room to work out my thoughts. “If the Protector shields Doon from evil, why are people so freaked out about the witch?”

Fiona tipped her head. “Freaked out?”

“It means panicked—agitated. Why do they think the witch could have any influence here?”

Fiona looked at me kindly. “Because she kin. When Doon was blessed, the witch was cursed fer her evil ways. She’s forever connected ta us. As long as Doon prospers, she suffers terribly—her power is unsteady and weak. The only way the witch kin be free o’ the curse is fer her ta destroy Doon and all the inhabitants along with it.”

At the far end of the chamber, I pivoted, stage style, and retraced my steps. “But can she really do that? I mean, she was banished, right?”

“Aye, but even in banishment she’s still connected to us. Everything is a balance, Mackenna. Without the witch, we would not exist—at least no’ like this. There are times—windows—when Doon is verra vulnerable. This is one of them. And when Doon’s weak, the witch grows strong … as evidenced by the black petunias blossoming ‘round her cottage. And she’ll use any means she kin to get stronger. Even good people.”

“I’m sorry.” What else could I say? When the kingdom was most vulnerable, two American girls appear and everything goes sideways. They were right not to trust us.

She appraised me with her astute hazel eyes. “Dinna apologize. Ye’ve brought the Rings of Aontacht back ta Doon. And I suspect we’re going ta have need o’ them before this chapter in our history’s done. Trust me when I tell ye, there’s a purpose in all this.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Tired of Vee’s apologies, I launched a pillow at her head as evidence of my forgiveness. We both knew she was sorry and that she’d never intentionally do anything to harm Doon. Enough end-of-the-world angst already; I was ready to move on to the juicy stuff. Like the details Vee had so obviously omitted from her account the previous afternoon.

“Sooo—” I casually lounged on Duncan’s giant bed, swaddled in his massive robe. At discreet intervals, I sniffed the flannel fabric, drawing Duncan’s scent deep into my lungs. “Anything interesting happen between you and Jamie at the hunting lodge?”

Things had definitely changed between them. The king-to-be looked at her with a fierce possessiveness that did not make me want to do summersaults of joy for several reasons—the least of which was his very public entanglement with a teeny-weeny Italian.

Vee struggled for a moment. Her cheeks turned scarlet as a hint of a smile appeared and then melted from her face. “He kissed me.”

Underneath her neutrality, I could see she was on the verge of an emotional breakdown. “Let me guess. The kiss was awful, like making out with a lizard.”

“It was a little more than a kiss actually, and it was—um—good.”
Her tongue swiped across her upper lip as if she could still taste him.

“Even better than Eric?”

“Who?” For a minute, my best friend drew a blank. Her impending breakdown dissipated as she thought harder and then laughed. “Oh, him. No comparison.”

I feigned disappointment. “So Jamie couldn’t even compare with Eric’s superior skills? Now I’m wishing I’d made out with your ex when I had the chance.”

In response, Vee lobbed the pillow-missile back at me. “Ow!” And then because I couldn’t resist … “Such a shame Eric’s ruined you for all other guys.”

“I am ruined—but not by him.” The emotions started to gather again, fueled by her admission. I didn’t need her to say
the Completing
or recount Jamie’s summons to Sofia to know where her mind was. A moment later, she shook her head. “I’m being a self-centered shrew. Enough with my pity party—what did you do while I was gone?”

When I told her about spending the evening with Duncan in his chambers, she pursed her lips and said, “Oh, really?”

“It’s not like you think. Duncan mostly read, and I did what I always do when I’m stressed.”

She nodded sympathetically. “Show tunes?”

“My entire repertoire.”

Although she tried to mask her disappointment, it wasn’t her best performance. “You must’ve talked some, right?”

I thought about the degradation Duncan experienced when his brother had ordered him to stay behind and babysit like he was hired help. It was as if a light had been snuffed from his spirit. In the two weeks I’d known him, I’d never seen his features so tight and lifeless. He’d closed himself off and bordered on total jerk all evening.

But Vee didn’t need to hear that. I wasn’t about to tack any more mileage on to her guilt trip. “We were a little freaked out. I wish I could tell you we sat around singing end-of-the-world duets. But we didn’t. We kind of went our separate ways—while occupying the same space. If that makes any sense.”

“Oh.” Vee frowned. She seemed genuinely upset that I hadn’t shared the same kind of cataclysmic love connection with my prince as she had with hers. But in the great scheme of things, neither event changed anything. Closeness with Duncan would not deter me from leaving the moment the bridge opened any more than her closeness with Jamie would enable her to stay. The only true difference is I would leave by my own decision.

Not wanting to let her down entirely, I added, “We did sleep together—I mean in the literal sense—in the same room, together. Well, not together together. He slept on the floor and I slept in his bed. But with him just a few feet away, I slept hardly at all. And then when I finally dozed off, I had this crazy dream where he was Spider-Man and we were building an ark with—” I realized I was rambling and abruptly stopped talking.

Vee waggled her eyebrows with significance. “But you slept with Duncan?”

“Pretty much. I mean, he slept. I just lay near him and swooned all night.”

A noise in the doorway, specifically the masculine clearing of a throat, announced the object of said swoonification present and well within earshot of my last comment. Completely mortified, I stared at Vee with huge eyes. With a grimace over my unlucky timing, my best friend dove into the bathroom. The only word I caught in her hasty retreat was “shower.”

“Sorry to intrude.” Duncan held a small silver tray in his big hands, embarrassment evident on his face. “I brought ye your breakfast, Mackenna.”

The tray contained a mug of coffee, a covered plate, and a small green vase bursting with lavender. As I leaned over the arrangement and inhaled, my childhood came rushing back. All my happy summers spent in Alloway. Even the vase was a miniature version of Aunt Gracie’s, right down to the design and shade—which made total sense, if hers had originally also come from Doon.

I breathed in again, pulling the calming scent deep into my being. “Not that you’d have any way of knowing, but lavender is my favorite flower. Thank you.”

Duncan’s gaze traveled from my face down the length of my body and slowly back up. “’Tis customary, I hear, when a girl sleeps with you.”

“But we didn’t—” His lopsided smirk stopped me midsentence. He was teasing me—at least I thought that’s what he was doing. His light demeanor carried an undercurrent of something more serious that I couldn’t completely define.

“Funny,” I drawled, as Duncan set the tray on the end of the bed. “I was under the impression that if a maiden slept with an ogre, she’d wake up with a prince.”

“And didn’t ye?”

I slowly shook my head. “Sadly, no. Just the same smelly old ogre.”

“Tha’s too bad.” His intoxicating brogue dropped a full octave. “Because I woke up with a vision o’ loveliness.”

The sparkle in his eyes confirmed he’d slain whatever demons he’d been battling the night of the blizzard. Just to be sure, I asked, “So you’re, um, feeling better?”

“Aye. And I owe you an apology for my unconscionable behavior. Please allow me to make it up to you by escorting you to the ball tonight.”

Step, kick, kick, leap, kick touch
… Butterflies commenced an
impromptu chorus line in my stomach at the thought of spending an entire evening decked out and on Duncan MacCrae’s arm. I’d skipped prom—but didn’t every girl deserve one night to be a princess? While my brain ranted about romantic entanglements and leaving as soon as the bridge opened tonight, my hasty heart ignored common sense and answered, “Okay.”

Duncan’s resulting smile put an end to any lingering objections. He removed the top off the silver tray with a flourish. “This is the other part of my apology. I made it myself in Mag’s kitchen.”

I leaned over the dish of fruit blobs and a plate of unidentifiable brown stuff. “What is it?”

With mock affront, he set the cover down heavily. “Melon balls and crepes. They’re French.”

I stared dubiously at Duncan’s attempted cuisine. “I know what crepes are, but someone forgot to tell that stuff on the plate.”

“You’re a right hilarious lass, Mackenna Reid.” He gave me a playful shove that would’ve knocked me onto my breakfast had I not tensed for it. The playful gleam in his eyes faded into something more responsible as he bounced impatiently on the balls of his feet. “Unfortunately, I canna stay. I’ve much to do before the coronation.”

Disappointment burned through my chest. By tomorrow, I would be gone. Did he really want to waste the time we had left? Feeling reckless, I picked up a piece of melon and slowly slid it into my mouth with a throaty murmur of delight.