“Deal.”
We shook on it and then Vee clasped me in a bear hug. When she pulled back, her face was troubled. “I’ve got to tell you something else. Another reason why I can’t stay …”
She hesitated long enough to take one of her deep yoga breaths. “I don’t want to tell you, and I’d even convinced myself to keep it from you for your own good. But then I started to think about the situation being reversed and how I would feel in your shoes.”
“Whatever it is—just say it.”
Her grave eyes seemed far too old for her innocent face. “I know who the witch is.”
“What?” Blindsided by her confession, my mind swirled with questions. “Who? And when? I meant how? And why didn’t you—”
Vee held up her hand to stop my barrage and then paced away. “When I went to see the king, I had a vision … or something. The journal’s cursed. I wanted to tell you, but then the king died and all I could think about was getting it out of Doon. And—well—you saw how well that plan worked.”
Deliberately, I stepped into her path and blocked her ramble. “Who is it?”
“It’s Adelaide Dell—Addie, Dunbrae’s caretaker.”
I thought about the modern, stylish woman with her no-nonsense demeanor. “Addie’s the old hag who’s been after Doon for centuries?”
Her gaze narrowed and I could see her mind replaying events I couldn’t see. “I read that the witch who attacked Doon was named Adelaide Blackmore Cadell. But in my vision, it was Addie.”
“Do you think Ally knows?” I considered the sweet girl who’d shown us around Alloway.
“I don’t think so. That’s why she didn’t bring Ally with her when she came to the cottage. She acted … odd, remember? I’m certain she did something to your aunt’s journal and then planted it for us to find—”
“Manipulating us into crossing the bridge.” I didn’t doubt Vee for an instant, remembering the way Addie fawned over Gracie’s journal and calling my bestie a “clever” girl. She’d been the one to pack my aunt’s things away in the first place. “That witch played us!”
“Yep. And I carried the journal into the kingdom for her.” Vee squeezed her eyes shut in recrimination. “I’m responsible for everything that’s happening. If she destroys Doon, it’ll be my fault.”
Fiona’s words about the witch growing strong in Doon’s weakness filled me with dread. Could the journal tip the scales in her evil favor? I indicated the book sitting benignly on the nightstand. “We need to destroy that thing, now!”
“We can’t. I tried burning it, and when that didn’t work … well, you know what happened next.” She tucked the small book protectively to her chest and walked to the window. “As soon as the Brig o’ Doon opens for the Centennial, I’m taking the journal out. I’ve got to make things right.”
I slung my arm around her shoulder, careful not to touch the cursed journal. Although she abandoned me, she’d been trying to protect us. I would not let her carry this burden alone any longer. “We are going to make this right.”
For a moment, we stood in silence and contemplated the gorgeous view. The dazzling morning sun had eradicated the last icy reminders of the blizzard so that the idyllic countryside looked just like it had on our first day. Heather dotted the hills. Birds called back and forth. Doonians went about their lives. Ironically, it was as if the witch hadn’t nearly succeeded in bringing about the end of their existence. For most living beings in Doon, everything was exactly the same as before.
CHAPTER 27
Veronica