Shades of Doon (31 page)
“What drew ye here, Oliver?” Jamie asked, still standing beside my chair. “How were ye Called to us?”
The Australian shifted in his seat and turned to stare into the fire, his throat contracting as he swallowed. A Calling, no
matter the purpose, was intensely personal. Like myself, most believed themselves to be going a little insane before accepting that Doon could be real. Oliver’s hesitation to speak about what Called him here convinced me of his innocence more than anything else.
Without turning back to us, he began to speak. “I had a good life in Melbourne, by most standards. I’d patented several inventions and then sold them to the highest bidder. International corporations had begun seeking me out to create their latest technology. I had more money than I’d ever dreamed of, but . . .” His brow furrowed. “But it felt empty. I had mates and women . . . lots of them.” He shrugged and glanced at me with a small smile. “But no end goal. Until the dreams started. It was as if I’d been to paradise while I slept and brutally yanked back to real life when I woke. It wasn’t just that Doon was beautiful. The feeling of belonging and purpose . . . it was like being Called home even though I’d lived in Melbourne all my life.” He met my gaze, his eyes liquefying, and I knew he told the truth.
“Thank you, Oliver. I think you’ve answered our question. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but we believe Adam was sent here by the Witch of Doon.”
Jamie squeezed my shoulder in warning.
“You mean Adam didn’t have a Calling to come to Doon?” Oliver questioned.
“We are no’ sure of that,” Jamie answered. “But do ye remember him actin’ suspicious? Did he say or do anythin’ that could give us insight into his motivations?”
Oliver thought for a moment and then shook his head. “No, I’m sorry.”
I glanced up at Jamie and he nodded.
“That will be all for now, Oliver. Thank you.” I stood and shook his hand.
Next, Jamie took his hand and held it. By the pained look on Oliver’s face, it was not a gentle hold. “Donna say a word of this to anyone. If ye want our trust, ye’ll ha’ to prove ye’re worthy of it.”
Oliver nodded. “You can count on me, mate.”
Jamie released his hand. “Good.”
After the inventor left and we were alone, Jamie said, “I dinna believe him.”
“I do.” I moved to the sofa where a pile of paperwork waited for my attention. “His Calling story rings true to me.”
“Ye’re too trusting.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, feet spread wide.
Too tired to argue, I picked up the petition on the top of the pile. “You’re probably right.”
Jamie’s eyebrows arched into his hair. “Tha’s it?”
“That’s it.” I shrugged and turned back to my paperwork.
“I need to change out of these dusty clothes and then I’ll return to help ye with those petitions.”
He strode into the bedroom and my thoughts kept circling back to the two conversations I’d just had. I knew I was missing something, but my tired brain couldn’t seem to latch onto it.
I’d read the first paragraph of the document in my hand three times and was nearing my fourth when the door swung open and my BFF burst into the room dressed in head to toe black. “Come on, Highney. Field trip time.”
I slumped back into the cushions. “I wish. But I’ve got a ton of paperwork. Maybe after dinner?”
“This is important.” A heavy sack landed with a thump beside me. “And requires a costume change.”
Untying the drawstring bag, I found a pair of thick leggings, a wool tunic, a cloak, and fur-lined boots — all in black. “Why do I feel like we’re about to play out a scene from
Pretty Little Liars
?”
“Ha, ha.” She stopped in front of me, gripping her hips. “Gather your royal fiancé and let’s be off.”
I sighed in resignation. I wasn’t getting anything done here anyway. “Fine. Where are we going?”
Kenna’s gaze darkened and her voice dipped an octave as she replied, “Into the woods . . .”
W
e rode in relative silence through the wintery woodlands to Gregory and Drew Forresters’ mill. The wind tugged at the hood of my fur-lined cloak, boxing my ears until my eyes watered. Duncan pulled me closer to him, but it did little good against the storm. At a farm just outside of the village, we’d switched our carriage for a sled and two sturdy work horses that plodded along unaffected by weather.
“Maybe we should turn back.” Although Vee shouted, I had to strain to catch each word before the wind snatched it away.
Jamie and Duncan shook their heads in unison. Bending his head toward my ear, Duncan said, “Can ye not see how the storm’s picked up since we set off on this course? The witch wants us ta turn back.”
I assumed Jamie, who was talking to Vee, was saying something similar. When his lips stopped moving, she nodded and pointed over my shoulder. Sitting backward in the sled had its disadvantages, like not being able to get that first glimpse of our destination.
Abandoning the battle to keep my hood up, I twisted in my seat to see the mill in the distance.
Blessed Leonard Bernstein
, we’d arrived! As soon as the horses came to a stop, the MacCrae brothers catapulted over the sides of the sled.
I watched as Duncan and his brother efficiently hitched the horses to a post. Then Duncan jogged back to help me out of the sled. Other than a slight stiffness in his gait, there were no outward signs of the burns across his back. Still, I was attuned enough to catch how he occasionally stifled a wince when he moved the wrong way.
Not wanting to cause him any further pain, I readied myself to jump down. Before I could leap, Duncan dug both hands into the slope of my hips and hoisted me out as effortlessly as if I were a doll, which I certainly was not. He set me on the snowy ground but kept his hold of my hips. Leaning his face to mine he said, “Jamie and I want to have a wee word with the mill foreman. His cottage is just over yon bridge. You and Veronica go inta the office and get warm. We’ll join ye shortly.”
Anxious to get inside, I looped my arm through Vee’s and propelled us toward the little office. As we staggered forward, stray bits of hair escaped, our matching ponytails lashing our faces. Like
Side Show
’s conjoined sisters, we pushed our way inside as a single being. Vee, the Violet to my Daisy, shrank against me as she blinked into the dark, enclosed space. “Brrr. It’s cold in here,” she lamented, her words accompanied by white bursts of breath.
My teeth chattered in agreement. “Where are all the workers?”
“Jamie said they won’t come back. They believe the mill is cursed.”
“Smart guys.” I pulled my cloak tighter about my shoulders, scanning the walls of the Forresters’ office. “Is there a thermostat in this place?”
“We have to make a fire,” she replied.
“And you know how to do that?”
“Yup. Jamie taught me.” She pointed to a pile of sticks in the corner. “Grab some kindling, please, while I get the tinderbox.”
I grabbed an armful of branches and turned back to Vee, who was staring thoughtfully at the fireplace. “What is it?”
“There’s something in the ashes. Hand me a stick, please.” Her focus didn’t leave the charred remains in the fireplace.
I placed a long twig in her outstretched hand, watching as she knelt to stir the cinders. “Any idea what it was?”
“Paper,” she mused. “Maybe letters. Looks like parchment. But it’s hard to tell. Maybe Fiona will be able to see something.” Vee set down the stick and began to scoop the ashes into a copper bucket next to the hearth.
When she was finished, I set the stack of kindling next to her. Since I couldn’t make a fire without matches or a lighter, I decided to put the bucket by the door, so we wouldn’t forget it. The ashes weren’t heavy — nevertheless, handling them made me feel vaguely uneasy — kind of the way I felt if I was forced to handle raw meat.
Holding my breath, I crossed to the door in long strides. I set the bucket near the entrance and the discomfort lifted. With Vee thoroughly occupied across the room, I decided to try an experiment. I touched the handle of the bucket, and the unpleasant sensations returned. As soon as I lifted my hand, they were gone. Staring at the ashes, I noticed tiny bits of purple, shimmering like glitter. Strange that Vee hadn’t mentioned them.
When I asked her as much, she looked at me as if I’d grown an extra head. With the fire crackling in the hearth, she stood and crossed to me. “What are you talking about, Ken?”
“There,” I said, pointing into the bucket of ashes. “See those tiny purple sparks?”
Vee shook her head. “Nope.”
It was like the zombie fungus all over again. I was seeing things that no one else could. Then it hit me. “The purple in the ashes — it’s magic. The witch must’ve burned the papers.”
Vee’s eyes widened as she filled in more gaps. “They must be related to whatever Gregory wanted to tell me.”
“You said he didn’t want to talk in the castle, right?”
She nodded. “He said it wasn’t safe.”
“Out of all the places you guys could have met, he asked you to come all the way to the mill,” I said thinking aloud. “What if there’s more here? Some kind of hidden clue?”
Vee chuckled. “I think you’ve seen one too many episodes of
Scooby Doo
, Ken. Life is never that convenient.”
“Still,” I said with a shrug. “We’re here and we’ve got nothing better to do, do we?”
“Okay,” she sighed. “We might as well search the office. You take the desk and I’ll examine the bookcase.”
I walked over to the desk and began to carefully sift through the contents of each drawer, taking extra care to discover any secret compartments. There were ledgers and invoices, ink and quills, and even an odd button or two, but no hidden spaces and nothing resembling a clue.
Just as I finished with the last drawer, Duncan and Jamie returned. Stamping off snow, they gravitated toward the fireplace, and Vee and I gravitated toward them. In tandem, Jamie wrapped his arm around Vee as Duncan pulled me against his side. For some minutes we stood in silence, enjoying the peace, warmth, and relative safety of the moment. At last Vee asked, “Did you find out anything?”
Jamie continued to stare at the fire, his voice low. “Aye. The foreman said that Gregory had been acting peculiar all morn’. Then when the rest of the lads were preparing a wagon with
a shipment of lumber, Gregory started up the saw. A moment later, he was dead . . .”
After Jamie paused again, Duncan continued. “He also said that the lad seemed to just lay down on the rollers. Before any o’ the others could get to him, he was sawn in half.”
I could feel his tremor of revulsion as it moved through him. I knew Duncan well enough to guess that he was wondering if he could have saved poor Gregory by being at the mill. But there was nothing that anyone could have done.
To ease his needless guilt, I laid my head on his shoulder, saying, “Vee noticed paper fragments in the fireplace. Whatever burned there bore the markings of Addie’s magic — I saw little purple sparks in the ashes. We put everything in a bucket to take back to the castle.”
Duncan placed a soft kiss on the top of my head. “Did ye find anything else?”
“Nope. Vee and I searched the desk and the bookshelf, but there’s not much else here.”
Duncan turned in a slow circle, his face pinched in confusion, “What happened to the bunkhouse?”
Vee blinked from one brother to the other. “The what?”
“The bunkhouse,” Jamie explained. “It’s a small barracks. The Forresters sometimes slept here when they were particularly busy. That’s odd. The entrance used to be right where that bookshelf is.”
Duncan and Jamie crossed to the shelves. On the count of three they hoisted and moved it to the side, revealing a dark space. Before Jamie could even ask for a little illumination, Duncan had lit a candle from the hearth. He handed it to his brother and then lit another for himself.
Both princes disappeared into the gloom as Vee and I hovered at the opening. The room was rectangular, narrow with a
wooden bunk on each side and just enough room in the middle to walk. In the flickering light, words were visible on the walls. The same sentence written over and over — hundreds of times in the cramped space.
She asked me to.
Pointing to the words with a shiver, Vee asked, “Is that blood?”
“Aye,” Duncan answered while turning in a circle. “And there are two sets of handwriting, Drew’s and Gregory’s most likely.”
“So Addie got to both of them.” Vee’s grave face looked sunken in the candlelight.
Jamie hastily blew out his candle and exited the bunkhouse to take his queen’s arm. “I think we’ve seen enough. Let’s go home.”
Following in his brother’s wake, Duncan slipped his arm through mine. He paused long enough to grab the bucket of magic ashes, and then escorted me from the mill. As soon as we shut the door behind us, the weather picked up like a ferocious beast. Before we could get to the sled, the wind captured the bucket in Duncan’s hand. His arm wrenched behind him, aggravating his recent back injury. With a yelp of pain, he let the ashes go.
The bucket tumbled to the ground and the wind caught the ashes, sucking them up into a purple cyclone. We stared in shock as the tempest lifted the debris into the sky. Within seconds, all evidence of what had burned in the Forrester’s fireplace was gone.
As Jamie helped Vee into the sled and untethered the horses, I stopped Duncan in his tracks. “I can’t help but wonder if we should be drawing Addie out. She got to Adam and Gregory — maybe even Drew. What happens when we provoke her? We
have to assume she’s even more powerful than when we faced her in Alloway. Doesn’t this seem like a reckless idea?”
“Aye.” He grimaced, his dark features even more pronounced against his pain-paled skin. “But what other choice do we have? We canna just sit around and wait for her to kill again.”
He cupped the sides of my face, tipping my head up while he looked down at me. “We’ll have six dozen men on alert, and I canna believe she’ll show her true self in front of everyone. The witch not only wants the kingdom, she wants the souls in it. She’ll need to proceed carefully.”
