Saving Her Destiny (6 page)

“Prove it.”
Duncan kicked off toward the rock outcroppings, where the entrance to the Merrow Kingdom was hidden.

The two merrow took off after him.

Chapter Five

Pain shot through Cara's head. Somewhere water dripped, and each little drop made the throbbing in her head boom that much harder.

Chinese water torture, but worse…

Trying to twist and turn, Cara realized she'd been bound.

Bound and gagged. Bitter bile flooded her senses as she chewed at her restraints—a nasty taste. Her underwater breather was gone, and the crisp, cold air felt awful in her nose—like she'd dry-cleaned her sinuses.

Her forehead burned from an open wound. She could smell the salt water and the blood. Hopefully no sharks would smell it and come exploring.

Scanning around, she tried to figure where she'd wound up.

It was a cave—that much was obvious. Rock everywhere, and the light was very dim from some iridescent algae in the water. Though there was air here. No way in or out, either. Just a pool of water.

She'd have to swim for it to get out. Which wouldn't have been hard, had she still worn her breather. But it was gone—her oxygen was coming from the small pocket of air in the cave. Which meant the air in the cave would be limited before it became too toxic to breath.

And who knew how deep the cave was, or how long it would be before she reached the surface again? She had to stay calm, keep her breathing in check—she didn't want to run out of air before she could attempt to get out of here.

This place, a hidden cove divers dreamed of finding, wasn't large. It reminded her of something out of a fantasy novel. The algae on the walls illuminated the cave a little, giving it an eerie glow. She might have marveled at it had the circumstances been different, and she wasn't in worse-than-migraine pain.

The cry in her gut fought with the pain of her throbbing head. Though the banshee cry was winning.

Cara had to let it out, because a banshee's cry
had
to be released. It was a warning of coming death. Without her release, it would leave the people she protected without time to prepare.

It would also leave the merrow defenseless. From the severity of the pain inside, the coming deaths wouldn't be pleasant. No cry she'd ever had had been this strong. Whatever was coming was big.

Major.

More than just an elderly death. The cry rolled and twisted in her gut. Panic flooded her, and she forced it back down. She had to get back to the Merrow Kingdom and release the cry.

If she didn't, well, there was no stopping a banshee's scream. A scream would erupt and rip apart whatever restrained it. Even the banshee carrying it.

From the way it built, Cara imagined she had less than a day before it burst through her body. Once again, the banshee part of her was determining her life.

As it did every other day of her existence. It shackled her to the island of Avalon, not allowing her to leave, even for a short trip just to see someplace new. She'd been so close—she'd even considered taking a little trip over to see her sister in the United States. She'd already spoken to her boss about using The Portal. Even the magistrate thought it would be nice for her to get away for a while. Just a few days, anyway.

Cara had been working hard, and lately, it was starting to take its toll. A break would have been perfect.

And even if a cry started, since she'd used The Portal to leave, she'd be able to come back instantaneously.

It was almost perfect.

Then this happened.

Gah, she hated being a banshee.

Correction, she hated being a banshee chained to this island. Why couldn't she have been lucky enough to get to travel around like her sister? Janelle was bound to an area in the southern United States, and even kept a house there. She could get away.

But Cara couldn't. Even just trying to plan a trip, and look how karma slapped her back down.

Stop it. Now's not the time.

Keep positive
.

I can get out of this.

There has to be a way…

The cry burned her chest. Death was coming to the merrows, and the more the cry burned, the worse it had to be. Something bad was on the horizon, and if Cara didn't release the warning, they might not be able to prevent it.

Her grandmother's words rang in her head:
The blessing and the curse of being a banshee, Cara. You bring a warning of death. But because it's merely a warning, then sometimes, it can be prevented.
She missed her grandmother—the merrow Crown Princess who turned her title over to her brother so she could marry a banshee, and change the course of the royal family.

Some things are not meant to be prevented…

Cara struggled against her bonds, remembering her grandmother's wise words about being a banshee. Some things were just destiny.

Maybe she was destined to be tied up in this cave…

She remembered a moment, years ago, when she'd had her palm read. Her destiny had been tied up into some big event in her future, when everything came together.

Stars, this was it. This had to be the event…

She shook her head.

No! No. I will not think like that.

Cara had to get out of here. Find a way to get out of this trap. Destiny or no, she wasn't about to spend the rest of her days in a little cave, tied up with seaweed.

If I can only—

Her legs fell over the edge of the rocky outcropping. Her impulse was to scream, a girly shriek she, like any female, would release, but nothing came out.

Not even a muffled grunt.

Wait a second…

The seaweed gagging her shouldn't be enough to completely destroy her voice.

What in the world?

How could the seaweed prevent her from making
any
noise?

It had to be enchanted.

Which turned this into a whole other mess. She'd wondered if she'd even made it into the Merrow Kingdom. There was no way to tell inside the cave. This wasn't exactly on the Avalon's list of scenic spots.

Someone had hidden her away
.

Enchantment meant a fairy. Or worse. If this was magic-cursed, then something very bad was afoot.

The merrow didn't use magic. At least, no more than necessary for survival. The main source of their magic being their red, seaweed-like hair—called the
cohuleen druith—
that grew from the top of every mermaid's head like a sprout. If a merrow lost their
cohuleen druith
, they could never return home, and would remain shore-bound for the rest of their lives.

Since magic usually caused more problems than helped, the merrow had banned the use of it centuries ago. The king had a trident, which he rarely used, but it did have magical properties. However, he used it only in the most desperate of situations. Jupiter gave the merrow king a piece of Neptune's trident to protect his people. Ever since, the merrow didn't particularly like magic in their realm.

At least, not magic they couldn't control.

But other than that, the merrow were not magical. Probably the biggest thing Cara liked about them. For the most part, they were mortal, at least on land. They didn't seem quite as intimidating—well, minus the red sprout of seaweed-like hair on their heads. When they hit the seawater, their tail fins appeared.

In a way, they were just as stuck on Avalon as she was.

The merrow were stuck here….

Merrow.

Her cousins!

She had distant merrow cousins—the side of the family that Grandmother had turned the crown over to. They were all merrow, which meant they lived in the water most of the time.

They would help her.

“Keefe! Kealan! Help me!”

Not that Cara expected them to actually hear her—her telepathy was very rusty, and it had been years, literally, since she'd used the skill underwater.

Struggling against the bonds, she felt the texture and realized they were the same seaweed material as the gag in her mouth.

They were likely just as enchanted as the gag.

Great.

“Someone, please! Help me!”
Wherever she was, hopefully someone was out there and would hear her thoughts. Though she wasn't underwater… Would it make a difference? She didn't know…

There was so much she didn't know.

Like what had happened.

Her memories were fragmented, split up like a broken movie clip. She'd been on the cliff, adjusting her wet suit, ready to make her dive. The cry had started not long before, wanting to be released.

After the net incident, as she liked to remember it, she'd gotten herself a good suit to wear in the water just in case she ever went under longer than necessary. Or if her shitty merrow cousin Norton ever surprised her again.

But she had been ready to go down, ready for this one. Then she dove in the water. What happened after that, she wasn't sure.

The net incident, though, had one bright spot.

Duncan
.
Who saved her
.

Duncan. Duncan would save her. That was what he did, right? He was a FID agent—he saved fairies in distress.

Well, this certainly qualified as distress.

He had to be out there somewhere. He would rescue her. But what if he was working somewhere else? Would he be able to hear her? Know if she was in trouble?

Probably not. If he was off in the Americas, or over in China or something, he'd never know she needed help.

Panic hit her harder. Where was he? Why wasn't he finding her?

Stop it
, she chided herself. Thinking about Duncan wouldn't get her out of this mess any faster.

What was she, Wendy in
Peter Pan
? Cara's least favorite Disney movie came to mind—while Pan battled Hook in the cave, Wendy didn't help Tiger Lilly. At the time, Cara had asked her mother why Wendy just sat there and did nothing.

It left Cara with a strong impression—not to be a Wendy and wait for someone to rescue her.

Whenever she climbed aboard the pity train—which happened every time she remembered she was practically chained to Avalon—she reminded herself that nope, she wasn't a Wendy who was unable to do anything for herself.

She could do this.

Whatever
this
was, she could do it.

Focus.
What happened
?

She couldn't remember anything definitive beyond entering the water.

Concentrate.

She hit the water. There had to be something. A clue.

And then—

Just pain.

Fragments of rushing water swirling around her, but that could have been from when she broke the surface during the dive.

That's it.

She cursed, or would have, if she could speak.

Obviously someone had plans for her, because seaweed didn't randomly hog-tie a person. But who would do this? Why would anyone want to stop a banshee's cry? After all, banshees were practically useless as far as magic and all that went.

Banshees just got cries. That was all. No control over when or where they came on, only that they had to be delivered by a certain time. Or bad things happened to the banshee and whoever was in the immediate vicinity.

Why would anyone want to stop a banshee from delivering a cry? It didn't make any sense. What purpose could it possibly serve?

Other than to keep the warning from coming…

The water began to ripple, and a figure rose from it.

Red seaweed like hair appeared first. The
cohuleen druith
of a merrow.

A burst of hope flooded Cara—she'd been found by one of The Brothers. Maybe they'd seen what happened—maybe a Brother had caught the person who did this.

She'd been saved.

The notion was squashed as soon as she saw the face of the merrow rising out of the water.

Norton Lynch.

“Hello, cousin,” Norton said, smiling at her like it was nothing to find her tied up in a cave.

She glared at her good-for-nothing cousin. She couldn't imagine why he would kidnap her, but of all the beings she knew in the Merrow Kingdom, he surprised her the least.

Though she should have suspected him.

What purpose he had, she couldn't guess. This seemed a bit more involved than when he'd led her into a fishing boat's net, and left her there to let the humans catch her.

Norton continued as if she'd spoken. “Oh, I am quite well, thank you. And you?”

She struggled.

“Good, good.” He raised his hands. “I hope you like the accommodations. They really are top-notch. Especially for the likes of you.”

She shot her most menacing glare at him.

He put his hands on his hips—or what a merrow had for hips, anyway. “Do you not realize the trouble I went to, finding a secluded place
with air
for you?”

She wanted to scream at her cousin, but, of course, nothing came out.

“It was quite a chore to find a secluded spot. And I've been waiting for years to do this.”

“Let me go,”
she screamed with her mind, hoping he heard her.

He continued as though he hadn't. “I know. It's quite courteous of me to be so accommodating. I could have just left you out there, bobbing around unconscious after you hit that magic spell. Let one of the island's fishing nets find you and pull you up.” He swam closer. “Wouldn't that have been entertaining?”

She shook her head.
“Maybe for you.”
Cara had played that before, thanks to Norton. To this day, she still believed that somehow Norton had lured the human fishing boat into Avalon's waters just to mess with her.

No proof, of course, but she had always wondered. It seemed way too coincidental to be anything else.

Norton grinned that oily smile that made her skin crawl when they were kids.

Concentrate
, she told herself. She had to be able to communicate with him somehow.
“What are you after, Norton?”
She focused her telepathy as hard as she could. With no idea whether he would actually hear her words, she thought a quick prayer, just in case.