As the misguided guard crumpled to the ground, his men surged toward us. Half grabbed Fergus, who growled and lashed out, his fists and boots directed at his attackers. The others moved toward Duncan, who held them off with his sword. “Stand down, men! Your prince commands it!”
Indecision, thick and palpable, charged the air, making the guards’ attack disorganized and sluggish. Duncan easily fought two guards at once, and projected his voice over the clang of their swords. “Graham, you know Gideon is not in his right mind. He’s obviously ill.”
The guard I assumed was Graham glanced back at Gideon’s prone form and lowered his sword. His comrade continued to fight until Duncan lowered his weapon and pleaded, “Patrick, I’ve known ye since we were lads. I must speak to my brother. It’s a matter of life and death.”
After several agonizing seconds, Patrick lowered his sword and called for his cohorts to release Fergus. Duncan regarded the men with a steely nod. “Go home to your families. Tha’s an order.”
The resounding “Yes, m’ laird!” filled the tight corridor. Then the guards turned and scattered, their footsteps echoing noisily off the cobbled stones as they ran.
Gideon lay unconscious as rivulets of sweat trickled across his twitching body. Duncan unfastened a key ring from the guard’s belt and rushed the massive chapel door. At my feet, Gideon convulsed, causing his fist to unclench, and with a soft clink the Rings of Aontacht rolled from his hand.
“What’s he doing with the rings?” I asked as Fiona stooped to pick them up.
“I don’t know why I didn’t consider it before. My mum told me that many years ago a servant of the witch used one of the Rings of Aontach to enter Doon. The ring was enspelled with a curse.”
“A curse?” Kenna asked, the last part of her question drowned out by Duncan swearing as he tried various keys in the lock.
Bouncing on my toes in impatience, I heard Fiona reply, “Aye. Wrapped around it—like a parasite and attaching itself to the first Doonian it touched.”
Kenna’s eyes widened. “Could the curse have caused Gideon to kill his own men?”
Fiona’s fair head dipped in terrible confirmation. “Aye. With a spell this strong, ’tis verra likely the witch’s been in control of him. Gideon could’ve done terrible things and no’ had any recollection after the deed was done.”
Her words cut through me like an icy wind, stealing my breath. The journal held a curse and when Jamie touched it he hadn’t been harmed as I feared, but he had changed. For the first time since I’d arrived in Doon, he’d looked through me as if I wasn’t even there.
With a loud creak, Duncan pushed open the chapel door. “Got it!”
I shoved past him while calling Jamie’s name. Halfway down the aisle, I stopped, searching the cavernous space. “I don’t see him.”
Duncan pointed to a closed door off the main altar. “He’d be in the annex.”
I ran. Jamie’d had the journal for hours—plenty of time for him to turn into a possessed monster like Gideon. I slammed my shoulder against the door and shoved the handle, but it didn’t move. “Duncan, do you have a key?”
“Nay, it only locks from the inside.”
I rushed backward and then ran forward, flinging myself against the door with all my strength. But I bounced back, struggling to keep my footing. “It won’t budge.”
“Step back.” Duncan waved me a safe distance away. With the count of three, Duncan and Fergus hit the door together. Their combined strength splintered the wood into kindling.
Impatiently, I shoved my way between them. “Jamie!”
The small room was empty. Fear balled in the pit of my stomach. I whirled around to Kenna, my voice thick in my own ears. “Ken, he’s not here.”
Duncan stepped to one side, allowing Fiona access to the deserted chamber. “What do you make of this?” he asked.