Doon

smitten. And who could really blame her? Duncan was gallant and charming. Jamie, on the other hand, was a rude, egotistical pig!

Residual adrenaline coursed through my veins like a ricocheting pinball. Jamie’s harsh rejection of my help, and even my touch, had me ready to punch something other than my pillow. Preferably a broad cheekbone or dimpled chin or—I cut my thoughts short.

Taking several deep, calming breaths, I swept my damp hair up behind my head, tied it in a knot, and then moved into a Warrior pose. I should have told that conceited jackwagon to go stuff himself. Instead, I’d let Duncan lead me back to the castle without saying a word.

Closing my eyes, I held the position and continued to breathe. I focused on my muscles elongating as I pushed negative thoughts out and drew in the positive.

Desperate to regain my freedom of movement, I’d shed my heavy skirts in favor of knee-length cotton bloomers and a silk cami. My ensemble would be considered scandalous by most Doonians, but ironically covered more than my old cheer uniform.

“What are you doing?”

Without opening my eyes, I answered, “Yoga.” I brought my hands together and slowly arched back into a Half Moon.

“Well, when you’re done communing with Yoda or whatever, I need to ask you something.”

I returned to neutral and opened my eyes. “Yes, young one? Assist you how may I?”

A small cylindrical pillow hurtled across the room toward my face. I ducked at the last second, narrowly avoiding the projectile.

“I’m four months older than you, and don’t you forget it!” Kenna teased.

My equilibrium renewed, I skipped over and dropped down cross-legged on the hearthrug in front of Kenna’s chair. Sinking my fingers into the plush texture, I realized, with mild revulsion, that it was some kind of dead animal fur.

“Is that Duncan’s robe?”

“Where’s the journal?”

We spoke over each other, voicing our questions at exactly the same time.

“I asked first,” Kenna declared.

“Okay. It’s in the toilet.”

“It’s in the … What?” Kenna uncurled from her chair, leaning forward.

Realizing more than an explanation was in order, I popped back up and grabbed Kenna’s hand so I could tow her along behind me. We’d agreed earlier that since the rings were confiscated on sight, we’d better hide Aunt Gracie’s treasure trove of information about this magical place, at least until we’d read it from cover to cover.

“They may have the newfangled plumbing here”—I looked over my shoulder and winked—“but I’m willing to bet they don’t know this trick.” Climbing onto the toilet seat, I raised myself onto my tiptoes and slid the lid of the antique tank to one side and withdrew a dripping plastic baggie containing Aunt Gracie’s small leather journal.

“You’re a genius! But where did you get a baggie?”

“The rings were in it.” I shrugged. “I’d stuffed it in my pocket.”

“I mean it, you’re brilliant. But you could have come up with a slightly less disgusting hiding place.” Kenna took the edge of the toilet water-covered baggie between her thumb and forefinger and shoved it toward me. “You’ve been dying to burrow into this thing since we found it. Now’s our chance.”

I took the soggy bag and placed it on a towel, slowly removing the leather-bound book. A moment of panic caused me to consider putting it back into its hiding place unread. The more I found out about this place, the more I worried I’d discover Jamie had every right to hate me.

Unable to shut my brain down despite my weariness, I read the journal long into the night. Kenna had lost patience almost immediately, insisting first on the CliffsNotes before she gave up entirely and snuck off to bed. But I didn’t mind the privacy, especially if Gracie’s diary was going to crush any hopes of a future with Jamie. Turning another page, I continued to read.

As far as we can tell, there is no way for the Witch o’ Doon to breech its enchanted borders — not even on the Centennial. However, if an object were to be enspelled by the witch and brought into the kingdom, the defenses of Doon could be compromised.

I was told that before Cam’s time, the witch found one of the Rings of Aontacht and bribed a young man to enter the kingdom and do her bidding. When he was caught in the witch’s cottage searching for something, his treachery was uncovered.

Maybe this could be a clue as to why Jamie didn’t trust me. Perhaps he thought we’d brought some curse into the kingdom with us. But if that was the case, why wasn’t he belligerent toward Mackenna as well?

A twinge of pain shot up my jaw, reminding me to unclench my teeth. What I really needed was to go for a run. Except the thought of running in heavy skirts didn’t sound the least bit appealing, nor did the possibility of harassment by drunken Doonians. Not that the guards outside our door would let me leave anyway. So I determined to stay safely ensconced in the turret room like a good little girl, no matter how tense the imprisonment was making me.

It was well past two o’clock when I tiptoed into the bedroom. I crawled under the covers, doing my best not to disturb Kenna, who snored lightly on the other side of the massive bed. Taking a deep breath, I let my eyes flutter shut. But the images wouldn’t stop.

I stared up at the shadowy ceiling, my mind wandering back to the pizzeria. Duncan said people often dream of Doon before coming here, but what if they saw a specific person—when they were awake? What did that mean?

“You might as well spill. You obviously want to.”

I jumped at the sound of Kenna’s sleep-scratchy voice.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just something’s obviously bothering you, and neither one of us are going to get any sleep if you don’t stop flopping around like a fish.”

The strike of a match prompted me to push the covers back and sit up. As Kenna lit the oil lamp on the nightstand, I focused on the soft light flickering behind her instead of the questions running through my head. Because as soon as I opened my mouth, I might have to face answers I wasn’t ready to hear.

“Veeee …” Kenna’s voice took on the whiny, nasal tone she knew I hated.

“Okay, okay.” I let out a slow breath. “Duncan likes you. And you like him, right?”

Kenna frowned. “I thought we were going to talk about you.”

“Just answer the question, please. Do you like Duncan?”

“Well, uh, sure.” Her eyes darted away, focusing on everything but my face. After several moments of silence, she faced me and shrugged a shoulder. “Who wouldn’t? He’s yummier than triple-chocolate ice cream— and you know how I love my chocolate ice cream.”

That said a lot, but unfortunately didn’t answer the milliondollar question. “Did you see or dream about Duncan before we came here?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, but if you and Duncan started dating …” When she glanced at me, I arched an eyebrow and quirked the corner of my mouth. “Would it be so bad to end up living in paradise with a tall, handsome prince?”

“One girl’s paradise is another girl’s purgatory.” She released a heavy breath. “I mean, he’s fabulous and all. But I won’t give up my dreams of the stage to have a litter of bambinis and become some Doonian Stepford princess. And besides, I’m not the one who’s been dreaming about snogging the king wannabe.”

Laughing, I picked up a pillow and lobbed it at her head.

“Hey, ow!”

“He happens to be the crown prince of Doon. He’s not a wannabe anything. And I absolutely have not been dreaming about snogging him!” Much. I swallowed a sigh at the thought of Jamie’s hauntingly beautiful face and cleared my throat, sweeping the image out of my mind before continuing.

“So what if I saw him a few times before we came here.” I tried to smile, but a deep grief pulled at the corners of my mouth and caused my words to tremble. “Since he hates me, it must not mean anything.” I