His eyes burned into mine, begging me—to what? Believe him? Prove my innocence? There was nothing I could say.
I wanted to shout that even if he’d dreamt that I’d harmed the kingdom, it didn’t mean anything. It was just a nightmare. But that wasn’t true. A bubble of panic pushed against my ribs, and I pulled in a ragged breath. Dreams meant everything here.
Jamie took a step and reached for me. I stumbled out of his reach. Turning on my heel, I ran blindly down the opposite corridor. He called my name but I didn’t stop. Consumed by tears, I ran aimlessly through the maze-like castle until I found a dark, quite hallway and sank to the floor, my head in my hands.
The worst part was that I’d begun to let myself hope. As hard as I tried to deny it, there’d been a secret part of me that wished, prayed even, that the visions meant this amazing boy was my soul mate—the destiny that’d brought me here. But instead, I was his nightmare and my destiny his ultimate destruction.
Help me!
Every time I tried to surface, another hideous dream tugged me under. I was strapped to a chair, forced to watch Jamie and Sofia twirl across the dance floor while the benevolent king repeatedly told me I wasn’t meant to be with his son. Addie appeared, as real as if she were standing before me, her eyes glowing an unearthly purple. She handed me a small book and moments later Jamie walked toward me, tall and solid. I held the familiar leather volume out to him as warnings shrieked through my brain. He took what I offered and crumpled at my feet, gasping for breath. Abruptly, he stopped struggling, his beautiful face frozen in death. The witch cackled gleefully, “Thank you Veronica. You’ve done well!”
I jerked awake and swallowed a scream.
The journal!
I lay rigid under the covers, my heart pounding to the beat of my cascading thoughts. Aunt Gracie’s notes said an object cursed by the witch and brought into the kingdom could compromise Doon’s protection. I thought that Kenna and I had found the journal by accident. But it was entirely possible that Addie had planted it. Who knows what she’d done in the cottage before we arrived. She’d have had plenty of time to place a spell on the book. The more I thought about it, and how easily we’d found everything, the more it made sense.
No, no, no! I dug my fingernails into my palms, squeezing my eyes tightly closed. What had I done?
My first instinct was to tell someone. But who? If I told Jamie, I’d not only be confirming his worst fears about me, but likely put him in grave danger. The image of him falling dead at my feet, the book in his hands, wouldn’t leave my mind.
I glanced at Kenna sleeping peacefully beside me. I longed to wake her and tell her everything, but then I remembered the king’s words: I alone could save the kingdom. Did that mean if I involved my best friend, I’d fail to save Doon? Or that it was best if I acted alone? I had no idea how the curse on the journal worked. But why endanger others if I didn’t have to? I was the one who brought the journal across the bridge in the first place—the one who’d put the people of Doon in danger.
Picturing the dead guard’s faces, frozen in agony, tears leaked out of the corners of my closed eyes. My fault. The king had given me the vision for a reason. And Jamie’s dreams had nothing to do with Kenna. This was my responsibility, my problem to fix. But the bridge was closed until the Centennial, and the king had taken the rings.