scores of Americans, Canadians, and modern-day Britons.
Each new arrival appeared with a sense of purpose and a similar story—crossing a local bridge, the battle cry of angels, a message from the Protector, and a yearning for a kingdom that didn’t exist in their world. If I’d had a moment to catch my breath, I would have marveled at how easily the Destined accepted the existence of Doon, their instant belief in magic and evil witches, and especially how ready they were to defend a kingdom they’d never set foot in to the death. It was as if the Protector had created them with a kingdom-shaped void that only Doon could fill.
The only person who seemed to be struggling was Mackenna. We’d had little opportunity to talk since I’d walked out. I’d managed to apologize and discuss her training plan, but I hadn’t been able to offer an explanation as to why I’d reacted as I had. She didn’t understand why I wouldn’t personally train her or my inability to explain myself. But I knew that any justification I could offer would likely degenerate into my begging her to stay safely behind in Alloway—which I couldn’t ask her to do.
With Rabbie and Eòran’s help, I’d kept her in a training regimen that began before sunrise and ended long past sundown. While the others gathered around bonfires, the Doonians entertaining the newcomers with tales and songs from home, Mackenna engaged in night combat, learning to use senses other than her vision to locate and track her enemy.
This particular evening, I had Rabbie working to enhance her sense of smell. Blindfolded and wearing earmuffs, Mackenna was about a thousand paces outside of the camp in the woods. Her objective was to sense the approach of her assailant and successfully defend herself against an attack.
As Missus Alsberg led the camp in a chorus of “Ye Banks and Braes,” I slipped out of the camp to observe Mackenna’s progress. The inky sky held the faintest ghost of a crescent toward the east. Earlier at supper, when I’d commented the new moon would be perfect for tonight’s exercise, Mackenna had joked about hoping that a bare-chested wolf would appear and save her from her sparkly boyfriend’s domineering oppression.
Although I didn’t understand the reference, the inference had been clear. She was having a difficult time with the rigorous schedule but doing her best to, in her own words, suck it up.
Armed with a wooden knife, Mackenna stood in a small clearing in the heart of a copse of trees. Blind and deaf, she turned in a wild circle, exploring the immediate space around her. In the early stage of the exercise, Rabbie stood a dozen paces upwind. Unable to help myself, my inner soldier began to assess her errors. Stop moving. Identify which direction the wind is flowing. What do you smell?
I’d deliberately selected Rabbie because the boy hadn’t bathed in a while. Standing upwind as he was, his stench should have been easy for her to identify from her current position. If only she would stop whirling about.
After a couple of minutes, Rabbie crept toward her. For a youth still growing into his large body, he was surprisingly stealthy. He stopped at arm’s length, patiently waiting for her to figure out his position. But she continued to thrash about as oblivious as the village drunk.
Quietly, Rabbie stepped in to tap her on the shoulder. Mackenna gasped and spun in a frantic circle, wielding the knife with both hands as if it were a hostile animal. The boy moved around her in a wide arc, going the opposite direction until again she was downwind. After a moment’s hesitation he reached out and tugged her ponytail, earning him an “Ow!” and more frantic twirling in response.
The blood coursing through my veins began to boil. The lad was toying with her, playfully baiting her like a schoolboy. Adelaide and her evil minions would have butchered her by now—just like Jamie . . .
No! I didn’t know for sure that he was dead. Concentrate on something else.
Waving Rabbie off, I slipped into position just out of arm’s reach and waited until Mackenna came to a stop. Cocking her head to the side she said in an overly loud voice, “What’s the matter, Rabbie? Afraid to get your butt kicked by a girl?”
I rattled a bush and stepped to the side as she charged the noise. Without benefit of sight, she crashed into a low-lying tree limb. Her feet flew out