fill my eyes. Unwilling to let him see me cry, I stalked away from the others. “Let’s just forget it, okay? We’re never going to make it back.”
“I beg ta differ, child.” Mrs. Fairshaw’s voice echoed from the riverbank as she and Fiona appeared at the mouth of the bridge. Behind them, barely visible through the mist, stood several hundred people, the Destined newcomers arm in arm with the native Doonians.
As I stared at all the smiling faces, the emerald in my ring began to flicker. It was just the faintest spark of light, but still it was something. “How did you know to come?”
From behind me, Alasdair chuckled. “I sent fer reinforcements. I suspected we’d have need o’ them.”
I swung around to confront the old man. “Why—I mean, what made you think to bring them to the bridge?”
Alasdair stepped toward me and placed a withered hand on my shoulder. “Lass, don’t ye know that everything happens fer a reason—even when it defies our comprehension? When yon newcomers began ta cross ta Scotland, they each brought a fragment o’ the portal with them. However, they didn’t just appear fer the sake o’ restoring the Brig o’ Doon.
“Each one possesses a special gift or skill we’ll have need of in the upcoming battle—but alas, their role is even more significant than that. These Destined are Doonians sure as you an’ Queen Veronica. Have ye not wondered at how easily they accepted their Callings?”
I shook my head. Honestly it hadn’t occurred to me. I’d been too preoccupied with my own drama.
He raised his brows in mild reproach. “I’ve spoken ta each an’ every one—an’ the one similar thing between them is the feeling that they were meant ta do more with their lives. There’s unity when like-minded beliefs lead ta a shared cause an’ great power in that unity.” He paused. “What I’m tryin’ ta say, lass, is that we’re no’ meant ta do this alone. We need ta help one another—it’s our only hope.”
With that, he nodded to Caledonia, who reached for her daughter’s hand and then declared in her clear, unwavering brogue, “For Doon!”
Fiona, in turn, grasped Cheska’s hand. “For Doon.”
Echoing the words, Cheska took the hand of Ezekiel, who took the hand of his brother, Jerimiah. Both boys said in unison, “For Doon.”
The pattern continued with each person grasping the hand of the one next to them and pronouncing their allegiance with two simple words: “For Doon.” Like the turning of a switch, my ring glowed a steady green that grew with each declaration.
When the chain was completed and the final person had spoken their oath, Alasdair grabbed Eòran’s and Duncan’s hands. “Fer Doon,” he uttered.
Duncan’s severe gaze bore down on me as he threaded his fingers through mine and proclaimed, “For Doon.”
At last it was my turn. My whole body buzzed with the power of my uncle Cameron’s ring and the power of the restored portal. I thrust my fist in the air. “For Doon!”
The green glow emanating from my hand turned white. The beam burned though the mist as Alloway and the people on the riverbank disappeared. Instead of the rainy night, it was a clear spring morning. In the distance, the proud turrets of Castle MacCrae stood out against the purple mountains. And at the opposite end of the bridge, with a radiant smile on her face and her arms open wide, stood the true queen of Doon and my best friend in both worlds, to welcome me home.
CHAPTER 25
Veronica
As the glow of our rings faded, Kenna ran the rest of the way across the bridge and smashed into me. I stumbled back until a firm hand stilled my fall. Glancing over Kenna’s shoulder, I saw Jamie lower his hand and then stride toward his brother. Both their eyes liquid, they embraced. Not a one-armed, tight-fisted, back-pounding guy hug, but a full-on, arms-wrapped-around-each-other, rib-cracking squeeze. Overwhelmed with emotion, I stepped back to see Kenna’s face.
Tears streaked her cheeks and her body shook with sobs. “I didn’t . . . think it was . . . was going to work. We rebuilt the . . . the bridge . . . and the dreams . . . and the people came, just like in Field of Dreams but . . . Duncan, he . . . I don’t. . . .” Her head whipped around to glare at the MacCrae brothers, who had separated but were gripping onto each other’s shoulders, tears freely streaming down Duncan’s face.