“No—enough. I thought she just made those stories up for me, but apparently she went around telling the whole village she came from another planet.” Kenna shook her head like a child who thought if she plugged her ears and closed her eyes she’d become invisible. Suddenly she sprang to her feet. “I can’t deal with this right now.”
As I listened to her retreating footsteps, I decided not to go after her. Maybe once she decompressed, she’d be more receptive to what I had to say. Plus, that would give me time to go through her aunt’s things and find more proof. I carefully gathered the rest of Gracie’s papers and tucked them inside the envelope.
My heart broke for Kenna and the confusion she must be feeling, but as far as I was concerned there was no doubt left in my mind. When I’d slipped on the ring, it was like a window opening to another world. I could see it and feel it, almost touch it. Despite past disappointments, I wanted the fairy tale—handsome prince and all. And if I didn’t do everything within my power to find this magical place, this kingdom of Doon, I’d regret it for the rest of my life.
CHAPTER 6
Mackenna
Without conscious thought as to where I was going, I stormed into my bedroom, the door slamming in my wake. The walls trembled as my entrance dislodged a set of costume butterfly wings from an overstuffed shelf. The delicate keepsake spiraled to the floor in a gossamer swirl of silver, orange, and bright blue.
My first visit to Alloway had been sheer magic. Like something from Mame. My wonderfully strange, larger-than-life aunt converted her dining room into a stage, and we spent the entire summer cocooned in a world of make-believe—creating gorgeous sets and costumes to accompany our scripted stories of Scottish lore. I emerged from that summer a new creature; a confident, creative butterfly with an incurable obsession for theater.
Now, I resisted the urge to stomp the memento of my metamorphosis into shreds as I questioned whether Gracie’s passion had been tinged with madness all along. Maybe I’d just been too young to realize the most influential person in my life was really the village wacko who believed her jewelry opened the mystical portal to a hidden kingdom.
The part of me that loved my aunt could’ve forgiven her—except that she’d infected Vee with her insanity.
My best friend was so susceptible. She’d spent her entire life trying to escape into literary worlds, yearning for something or someone to make her feel special and give her a legacy greater than being the neglected daughter of crappy parents. Now that she had Doon, she wouldn’t let it go. Never mind that her quest would ruin our epic vacation and defraud the woman I’d idolized.
And since Vee had guzzled Gracie’s Kool-Aid, I knew she wouldn’t stop until she got to the bottom of Doon. If reading the journal would get this fantasyland out of her system faster, she could have it. Then hopefully we could continue our exploration of actual foreign lands with real Scottish hotties.
Grabbing the book from my dresser drawer, I shoved open my door and headed down the hall to Vee’s room. But it was empty. The overhead light illuminated a square of paper on her undisturbed bed, and I recognized Vee’s tidy cursive even before I could make out the single line she’d written. “K. Gone to check out the bridge—back soon. V.”
Fabulous.
Vee’s neurotic interest in the Brig o’ Doon had her traipsing around the riverbank in the dead of night. What did she think would happen? That she’d click her heels three times and Doon would miraculously appear?
As I jogged down the steps to the main floor and slipped out the back, I realized this might work to my advantage. Vee would never accept that Doon was merely the delusions of an aging mind unless she had evidence. If that meant standing on the Brig o’ Doon with the rings chanting “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo” to prove Aunt Gracie’s kingdom didn’t exist, then it was worth it.