Kealan shook his head. "Bull-shit? You Fairies have strange words."

Keefe glided over and touched Kealan's shoulder. "It's like shark poop. Just doesn't float."

"Yuck," Kealan muttered.

"Come on, I need to know what's been going on down here."

"Everything's been fine," Keefe said as he swam around Duncan. "Don't know why a banshee would be doing coming down here anyway. Everyone's healthy."

"The same reason a banshee goes anywhere. Cara's got a cry to release."

The two merrow looked at one another, their expressions sobering up.

"Come on," Keefe said.

"If you can keep up, fairy," Kealan said.

"I'm sure I can keep up with some mermaids."

"Hey!" Kealan snapped. "We are not amaids.'"

"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.