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Authors: Carey Corp
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shoulder. “I’m sorry, all right? I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m scared too.”
With a shaky breath, I turned around and threw my arms around my best friend, squeezing her tight. “I know. I’m sorry too. I’ll be fine, as soon as we’re home.”
Kenna pulled back, her eyes shimmering silver. “Then what are we waiting for?”
Kenna locked the front door behind us, and my gaze caught on the lion-head knocker — the MacCrae family’s royal symbol. It touched me that Gracie and Cameron had maintained their allegiance to the kingdom even in Alloway. It had been their Calling to leave Doon and protect its secrets from the outside.
“Where should we hide this?” Kenna held up the key as her eyes searched the front garden. “I don’t want to forget where it is again.”
The last time she’d forgotten, Fergus had been two stepsaway from smashing the door down in order to find out if the witch was holding Jamie captive inside. Which she was.
I didn’t know how, but I feared Addie was responsible for us getting booted out of Doon. With renewed urgency, I scanned the overgrown greenery. My eyes landed on an ivy-covered trellis, propped in front of the chimney. “How about over here?” I pushed aside the curtain of vines, squatted down and loosed a stone toward the base. Kenna handed me the key and I set it inside the hole, then shoved the stone back into place, hoping I’d never have need of the key again.
Standing, I dusted off my hands and then dug in my satchel. I handed Kenna the emerald Ring of Aontacht, and then slipped its ruby twin on my finger. “Now, let’s get out of here.”
We rounded the house and set off on the path to the river at a jog. “Did you get all the supplies we talked about?”
“Yep, even nail polish remover,” Kenna announced in triumph, hefting a bulging pillowcase over her shoulder like Santa Claus.
“But did you get the flashlights and extra batteries?” By my estimation, it would be late afternoon, but the walk back to the village from the bridge was a long one.
“Yesss. Duh.” Kenna called from several lengths behind me. “And a couple boxes of blueberry Pop-Tarts.”
I trotted back and grabbed her hand, pulling her beside me. “We’re almost there.”
The rush of water and the tang of fresh mineral-rich air greeted us as we rounded the bend. But when we reached the end of the path, we both stopped short. The stones of the Brig o’ Doon glittered in the late morning sun, the entrance shaded by leafy green trees. It was straight out of a painting — except for the people. Three couples and a family of six crowded the bridge, pointing and taking pictures.
A curse slipped from my lips as I shoved a hand into my hair. I should’ve anticipated this. It was summer here, prime tourist season.
I must have voiced my last thought aloud because Kenna led me to a nearby bench and asked, “And what could you have done about it if you had? Put up crime scene tape to block the entrances?”
“Not a bad idea, actually.” I perched on the edge of the seat, contemplating where I might acquire a believable blockade.
“Well, I don’t think you’re going to find some just lying around. So you might as well relax and wait it out.”
After twenty minutes passed and the steady stream of tourists continued, I sat back and crossed my legs in resignation. I was tempted to drag Kenna onto the bridge and unite our rings to see if they would light up at all. But I wasn’t sure how fast they would transport us back into Doon, and I didn’t want to give anyone a heart attack when the two American girls disappeared into thin air.
But what if the rings didn’t work? What if the force that had pushed us out of Doon blocked us from getting back in? We had both rings, so there was no way for anyone to come after us. I hadn’t wanted to tell Kenna, but the truth was that if the rings didn’t work, we’d be cut off from Doon until the next Centennial . . . and we
With a shaky breath, I turned around and threw my arms around my best friend, squeezing her tight. “I know. I’m sorry too. I’ll be fine, as soon as we’re home.”
Kenna pulled back, her eyes shimmering silver. “Then what are we waiting for?”
Kenna locked the front door behind us, and my gaze caught on the lion-head knocker — the MacCrae family’s royal symbol. It touched me that Gracie and Cameron had maintained their allegiance to the kingdom even in Alloway. It had been their Calling to leave Doon and protect its secrets from the outside.
“Where should we hide this?” Kenna held up the key as her eyes searched the front garden. “I don’t want to forget where it is again.”
The last time she’d forgotten, Fergus had been two stepsaway from smashing the door down in order to find out if the witch was holding Jamie captive inside. Which she was.
I didn’t know how, but I feared Addie was responsible for us getting booted out of Doon. With renewed urgency, I scanned the overgrown greenery. My eyes landed on an ivy-covered trellis, propped in front of the chimney. “How about over here?” I pushed aside the curtain of vines, squatted down and loosed a stone toward the base. Kenna handed me the key and I set it inside the hole, then shoved the stone back into place, hoping I’d never have need of the key again.
Standing, I dusted off my hands and then dug in my satchel. I handed Kenna the emerald Ring of Aontacht, and then slipped its ruby twin on my finger. “Now, let’s get out of here.”
We rounded the house and set off on the path to the river at a jog. “Did you get all the supplies we talked about?”
“Yep, even nail polish remover,” Kenna announced in triumph, hefting a bulging pillowcase over her shoulder like Santa Claus.
“But did you get the flashlights and extra batteries?” By my estimation, it would be late afternoon, but the walk back to the village from the bridge was a long one.
“Yesss. Duh.” Kenna called from several lengths behind me. “And a couple boxes of blueberry Pop-Tarts.”
I trotted back and grabbed her hand, pulling her beside me. “We’re almost there.”
The rush of water and the tang of fresh mineral-rich air greeted us as we rounded the bend. But when we reached the end of the path, we both stopped short. The stones of the Brig o’ Doon glittered in the late morning sun, the entrance shaded by leafy green trees. It was straight out of a painting — except for the people. Three couples and a family of six crowded the bridge, pointing and taking pictures.
A curse slipped from my lips as I shoved a hand into my hair. I should’ve anticipated this. It was summer here, prime tourist season.
I must have voiced my last thought aloud because Kenna led me to a nearby bench and asked, “And what could you have done about it if you had? Put up crime scene tape to block the entrances?”
“Not a bad idea, actually.” I perched on the edge of the seat, contemplating where I might acquire a believable blockade.
“Well, I don’t think you’re going to find some just lying around. So you might as well relax and wait it out.”
After twenty minutes passed and the steady stream of tourists continued, I sat back and crossed my legs in resignation. I was tempted to drag Kenna onto the bridge and unite our rings to see if they would light up at all. But I wasn’t sure how fast they would transport us back into Doon, and I didn’t want to give anyone a heart attack when the two American girls disappeared into thin air.
But what if the rings didn’t work? What if the force that had pushed us out of Doon blocked us from getting back in? We had both rings, so there was no way for anyone to come after us. I hadn’t wanted to tell Kenna, but the truth was that if the rings didn’t work, we’d be cut off from Doon until the next Centennial . . . and we
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