exercise and the alone time gave me an opportunity to reflect on what we’d been able to do and where we were going next.
It was amazing what we’d been able to accomplish in the six months since we’d defeated the witch. The Protector, in his infinite mercy, had reestablished Doon’s separation from the modern world. The first covenant had been formed against an immediate threat—an evil witch. This time we’d been shielded from a much subtler, but no less sinister fate: the corrupting influence of modern civilization on the kingdom and its people. Or as Kenna put it, becoming Brig o’ Doon World . . . or worse.
There were still so many things we didn’t know about the new covenant–would Doonians still experience Callings? Would there still be a Centennial? Would the portal ever open again? Since the battle, the Rings of Aontacht had remained silent—not even giving off so much as a spark—and I wondered if they’d served their ultimate purpose.
All the damage from Addie’s black magic had been restored, all traces of her spells erased—except for the numerous friends we’d lost in the battle. Their loss had left a permanent hole in all our lives.
Gideon and his staunch determination to protect Doon at any cost. Calum, whose animated narrative was lost to us forever. Analisa, who had challenged and supported me in perfect measure. And of course, Ewan. I’d known him the least amount of time, and yet missed him most of all.
I kicked a pinecone with the toe of my boot and braced for the blinding pain to close my throat, but it never came. Time had begun to heal the open wounds of grief. Day by day, I was learning to live with gratitude that we’d been given the chance to build a new world.
My only lingering regret was that with the portal closed, I no longer had a way to bring Sofia’s Called mate across the bridge. Kenna, refusing to believe that not everyone has a happy ending with a bow around it, flung her in the path of every eligible Destined boy in the futile hope that she’d find “the one.”
When she wasn’t busy dodging Ken’s setups, Sofia threw her energy into restoring the kingdom with a clarity of purpose that bordered on frightening. Every time I turned around she was there working to help someone else get their life back. When I pulled her aside to discuss it, all she would say was that she trusted the Protector had a plan.
A tiny fur-covered animal squeaked across my path and I paused, took out my flask of water, and turned to look back at how far I’d come. Raising a hand to shield my eyes, my breath caught at the sight. The bucolic scene was a far cry from the cracked, concrete landscape of my childhood. Hills rolled out below me covered in waves of golden gorse and wild heather, giving way to a patchwork of flatter geometric fields. A surge of puffy, white sheep returned from the high pasture, and just beyond, the spire of the Ault Kirk rose above the colorful buildings of the village.
Doonians, like tiny dolls, moved around the marketplace. But they were not faceless figures to me, as I knew every one of them by name; had fought beside them, cried beside them, and worked beside them. No longer their American queen, I was one of them. The fragile girl who’d crossed the bridge searching for her prince had found more than romance—of course, Jamie was the love of my life, but I’d also found a family, faith, and purpose.
From far below, a strain of fiddle and pipe caught the wind and wove through the trees. Joining my people in spirit, I picked up my skirt and danced a quick jig, swishing the fabric around my calves. A giggle bubbled out of my throat as I twirled in a quick circle.
“Tha’ be the most bonny sight I’ve seen in days.”
Choking on a laugh, I spun to face my prince leaning against a shade tree, arms crossed over his chest. Broad and strong, disheveled gold hair sticking out at odd angles, his tan cheeks streaked with dirt, he still managed to look magnificent. With determined strides, I climbed the path toward him. His dark eyes glinted, before a wide smile spread across his face, pulling out the dimple in his right cheek.
Ignoring the funny things the sight of him was doing to my heart, I poked a finger into his