Shades of Doon (10 page)
Glancing between Sofia and Fiona, I sensed some unspoken agreement. Fiona continued to smile, saying, “I asked Sofie to come. Thirteen is an unlucky number for a council and I have a feeling that she has much to contribute.” Fiona tapped her temple, indicating her gift — her sense of the supernatural world. In my experience, if Fiona had a feeling, it would undoubtedly come to pass.
Vee indicated the empty chair. “Of course. You are most welcome, Sofie.”
As Sofia took her seat, I noted the change in her eyes, a
nearly manic determination to engage in her surroundings. A definite shift from the lackluster girl I’d seen at the céilidh.
As soon as Sofia settled, all eyes turned toward our end of the table. Vee cleared her throat nervously, her eyes darting briefly to Jamie for reassurance before facing the group. “How much does everyone know about what happened?”
“Jus’ that you and Mackenna went missing,” Fergus replied.
“Aye,” echoed Eòran from the far side of the room near the door. “And ye weren’t nary ta be found.”
“Yes, we — that is, well, we’re not exactly sure . . .” Vee began and then trailed off cryptically. “I mean, we know
what
happened, but it’s just . . .”
“Oh, for the love of Lerner and Loewe, out with it already. We got sucked out of Doon,” I explained.
The table erupted in reactions as Vee’s head jerked my direction. “Kenna!”
“Well, we did,” I shot back. “And you know I hate suspense. If you didn’t want me to blurt it out, you should have said something.”
“I was trying to.”
Giancarlo Rosetti held up his hands, urging the room to quiet down. “Why don’t you start at the beginning,” he suggested. “Sofia, would you please take notes?” He indicated a black leather notebook, a metal pen that looked similar to something Vee had used during her brief calligraphy obsession, and a bottle of ink in the middle of the table.
Sofia eagerly snatched up the book. “Sì, Giani,” which she pronounced
Johnny
. She dipped the tip of the steel pen into the ink and nodded at Vee and me. “Continue, please.”
“From the beginning,” Fiona reminded us.
I slid a sidelong glance at Vee, who raised her brows indicating that I should finish what I started. Letting go of Duncan’s
hand so I could better explain, I started over. “Fine. Vee and I were shopping in the village — browsing for accent pieces for my room — we were thinking jewel tones. We bought some candles and pillows, and I picked up some new pairs of socks. When Eòran took the bags to the carriage, there was a popping sound, and a whirring — like in a movie.”
“Kenna,” Vee interrupted, stopping me with a small frown.
“Oh, right, most of you don’t know what a movie is. It’s like one of Calum the storyteller’s Scottish legends — only real. Not that movies are real, because they’re not. They’re fiction — except the ones based on true stories. But the point is that this didn’t feel real — it was like something from a made-up story — except it really happened to us. Which makes it surreal. Right?”
Vee placed a hand on my shoulder. “Maybe we should back up. The day before we got — uh —
sucked
out of Doon, we saw something strange. In the middle of the tournament, we saw cars — transportation vehicles from the modern world.”
Jamie’s brow furrowed as he leaned toward Veronica. “What?”
Calmly, Vee blinked at him. “I didn’t understand what it meant, or if it meant anything. The hallucination came and went so quickly that I doubted my own senses. I thought maybe I’d imagined it . . . except Kenna saw it too.”
I shook my head up and down to corroborate her story. “We thought it was PSTD — post-stress trauma disorder or something.” My fingers sought Duncan’s under the table. “If we thought it meant anything serious, we would’ve told you. Truly.”
Duncan squeezed my hand in reassurance. “I believe you, woman. We both believe you, right, brother?”
Jamie glowered at his little brother before refocusing on Vee. As soon as he did, his features softened and he took her
hand in his. “Aye. O’ course I believe ye. But I wish ye would’ve told me.”
“I was going to,” she murmured “but then . . . we were gone.”
“Can you tell us about that?” Oliver’s quiet voice cut through the intimacy of the moment. “Where you were, time of day, what exactly you experienced, and anything else strange that might have happened directly before or after the event.” He and Adam were also taking notes, but with mechanical pencils that they must have brought with them when they crossed the bridge.
Vee let go of Jamie’s hand and steepled her fingers on top of the table in front of her. “Like Kenna said, we were shopping in the village. We ducked into the backstreet behind Dinwiddie’s Leather Shop for some confidential girl talk.” She cast an apologetic glance at Eòran. “When we reached the other end of the alley and were about to step back onto the street, everything went dark. I felt a sensation like I was being pulled by my guts through space. Then with a pop, I was back on the street corner. Except instead of Doon, Kenna and I were standing on a sidewalk in the middle of Alloway.”
“Incredible.” Gabby’s breathless voice mirrored the delight in her face. By the look of her, you’d have thought we’d traveled to Oz or Narnia instead of the plain old modern world. “Then what happened?”
With a shrug, Vee continued, “We went to Dunbrae Cottage for some supplies.”
“After Vee puked her guts out — in the street, right in front of a cop,” I added, earning me a sharp poke in the ribs with her elbow.
Son of a Sondheim!
I started to give my friend the stink eye when she mouthed
safe room.
That’s right — she wanted to give Jamie the truth in
pieces so he didn’t lock her up like Rapunzel. Visions of Vee singing about winding and binding and minding her hair filled my brain, so it almost didn’t register when Emily brushed her bangs out of her eyes and asked, “Were you feeling bad again, Your Highness?”
“We were both a bit out of it,” I sputtered, noting the way Jamie’s eyes narrowed at Vee as well as the way Duncan’s lips pressed flat as he observed his brother’s silent reaction. Knowing that we would both have some ’splaining to do in private, I added, “Getting sucked out of one world into another takes a lot out of you.”
“Technically,” Adam corrected, pushing up his glasses on his nose while making notes, “it’s the same world. Just different dimensions.”
Oliver nodded. Tapping Adam’s paper, he said, “I wonder if we might borrow the Rings of Aontacht for a couple of days in order to test them in various locations around Doon.”
“Not goin’ to happen.” “Out of the question, lads.” Jamie and Duncan answered at the same time, speaking over on another.
Both scientists finally looked up, completely startled by the vehemence of the MacCraes’ reactions. Oliver frowned in confusion while Adam cocked his blond head to the side like he was trying to figure out an alien species. “But there’s much we could potentially learn by studying the rings and their interaction with the environment. Even if we could borrow them for — ”
“Nay.” Jamie cut Adam off. “The only reason the lasses are here with us now is because of those rings. They’re no’ to take them off. Under any circumstances.”
“Aye,” Duncan echoed, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The only thing more formidable than the MacCrae brothers at odds with each other was when they were in agreement.
The poor science nerds never even stood a chance. And honestly, as long as I was wearing my uncle Cam’s ring I didn’t feel completely helpless. If I got sucked out again, I had a means of getting back across the Brig o’ Doon.
Jamie flashed the scientists a magnanimous smile. “Aside from the rings, anything you require is at your disposal.”
Adam nodded as Oliver said, “Thank you. We’d like to examine the alleyway, as well as the bridge. Gather some samples, run some tests.”
“Of course. I’ll personally see that our brightest pages and guards are reassigned to your detail.” He scribbled a couple of quick notes and gestured for Eòran, who I still thought of as Mutton Chops — but now in the most affectionate of terms. Mutton Chops shuffled back to the door, cracked it open, and passed the messages to the guard stationed on the outside.
Fiona cleared her throat delicately, drawing everyone’s attention. “I’d like to examine the witch’s book o’ spells. Perhaps there’s somethin’ there that will help us make sense o’ this.”
For the first time all afternoon, Gabriella Rosetti appeared unsettled. “Do you really think the Witch of Doon is behind this?”
Sofia took her sister’s hand. “For everyone’s sake, I hope not. But we must examine every possibility. So I’ll help Fiona.”
Emily chimed up next. “Ana and I will handle the rest of the library.”
“Sure,” Analisa said drily. “Em and I are whiz bangs at research.”
Gabby pursed her lips, looking anxiously from her sister to the others. She reminded me of the awkward sophomore girl desperately trying to hang with seniors. “What should I do?”
I expected one of the girls to include her, but it was Giancarlo
who spoke up. “You’re wonderful with people. I was thinking of conducting interviews, under the guise of writing a book about the history of the Destined. You are so good at putting others at ease, I would welcome your help.”
Gabby’s gaze darted to Vee, who nodded her approval. Gabby sat straighter, seeming to glow with confidence now that she had a purpose. “Yes, of course I’ll help.”
Duncan addressed Fergus. “For the time being, we should move Mackenna into the queen’s chambers and triple the guards.” Then he turned to his brother. “Anything to add?”
After a moment of thought, Jamie replied, “If there are no objections, the other ladies can take turns staying the night with them.”
Around the table, every female head bobbed. Gabby clapped her hands together rapturously while Sofia and Emily furiously scribbled notes. The latter murmured, “I’ll draw up a sleepover rotation.”
Issuing a small huff, Vee turned to Prince Overprotective. “I like a good slumber party as much as the next girl — but don’t you think you’re going a bit overboard?”
“Nay.” Jamie quirked his brow. “Unless ye’d rather have me as a slumber companion.”
Blushing beet red, Vee dropped her face to her hand in mortification. To make matters worse, Duncan said with mock outrage, “Why does he get to sleep over? If Jamie’s stayin’ the night then I’m stayin’ too.”
“And me,” Fergus interjected, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Where Fiona sleeps, so do I.”
Making a rude noise that was uniquely Italian, Giancarlo demanded, “Why do you
ragazzi
get to have all the fun.
Perché.
I want to sleep over too.”
“Knock it off, you lot.” Analisa barked. She glared at the
testosterone-bearing members of the group as she declared in her clipped London accent, “The queen’s sleepovers are strictly girls only — no boys allowed.”
Giancarlo Rosetti batted his inky lashes seductively. “Where is the fun in that,
carina
?” he teased, causing Analisa to chuckle in spite of herself.
“Well then — ” Jamie stood and rolled his shoulders to get out the kinks. “With the queen’s permission, I think we’re ready to adjourn.”
Before Vee could speak, I bounced to my feet with Duncan close behind. “Wait. What about Vee and me? What’s our job?”
Jamie glanced from me to his royal girlfriend. Ever the gallant prince, he extended his hand and helped Vee stand up. “Your job is to be safe — after a little visit with Doc Benoir.”
Taking the level headed approach, Vee cupped his stubble-covered jaw. “Jamie, I feel fine.”
“Just a precaution, love.”
Duncan wrapped his arms around my waist. His warm breath sent shivers down the sensitive skin of the side of my neck as he spoke. “You too, woman.”
“Seriously!” I whined. “What did I ever do to you?” He raised his brows, and I immediately caved. “Fine.”
“Thank you,” he murmured. “And if ye wouldna mind terribly, I’d like to hear more about your adventures in Chicago.”
T
he arched wooden door of Jamie’s suite loomed in front of me as daunting as a miniature Mount Doom. I leaned against the stone wall at my back and pulled in a deep breath. It was time to come clean . . . again. Dizziness, headaches, muscle weakness, as well as heart palpitations, had haunted me for weeks, and I’d kept it to myself. But what happened to me in Alloway went beyond the usual, and I’d faced the fact that I may not survive another attack.
Assuming I was even still in Doon come morning.
A wave of nausea rolled through my stomach, and I pushed off the wall, putting one foot in front of the other. Jamie had invited me to have dinner with him in his chambers, which normally would have my pulse racing. I hadn’t been in the princes’ tower since we first arrived in Doon, and I’d never stepped foot inside Jamie’s room. Somehow seeing where he slept and spent his free time felt like a big deal — a glimpse into his complicated soul.
I lifted a hand to knock, but the door whooshed open before
my knuckles connected. Jamie filled the entrance, solid and strong, his honey-brown eyes crinkled at the corners. His lips followed suit and slid into a lazy grin, sweeping all other thoughts out of my mind.
“Hi,” I managed to whisper, my knees going a little weak.
“Welcome to my humble abode, love.” He swept his arm out in a shallow bow and opened the door wide.
I didn’t know where to look first. Expecting something similar to Duncan’s suite, I was completely blown away by the contrast. Where Duncan’s sitting room was bright and open, Jamie’s was dark and enveloping. The only sources of light were a fire crackling in the hearth, a few scattered candles, and the gold-orange sunset peeking through floor-to-ceiling burgundy drapes.
Overstuffed brown leather sofas and chairs were flanked by sturdy, rough-hewn tables that looked as if Jamie could’ve made them with his own hands. But what drew me in were the cherrywood shelves that covered almost every wall, overflowing with . . . stuff.