Saving Her Destiny (2 page)

She decided arguing with Norton over this wasn't worth the effort. He would have his opinion. She would have hers.

The family, crazy as it was, was what she had. What could she do about it? It wasn't like she could go back in time and change it. She wasn't a merrow. Fully. And she wasn't a banshee. Fully. Which made her one of the weaker mythical beings on the island, as others at school constantly reminded her.

She couldn't even fly like a normal fairy. What she would give to be able to stretch some wings and take off.

Especially when the girls in school started teasing her about whatever minor social infraction Cara had made.

That would show them. Just fly away, whenever…

What a pleasing idea.

Of course, some of those girls could fly away whenever they wanted as it was. Part of the joy of living on the island of Avalon. A refuge for mythical creatures of all kinds, Avalon remained home to all sorts of fairies—retired and still actively working. And then there were the corporeals who resided there—the vampires, dragons, werewolves, just to name a few. Even some merrow chose to live on the surface, because they, being of mixed blood, couldn't remain deep underwater for long periods of time.

Norton was one of those merrow—he kept a place on land as well as in the water, alternating between the two.

And there was Cara, a banshee. She wasn't the only banshee on Avalon, but she was the only one tethered to the island.

Which sucked
so bad
.

Every other banshee's cry led them away from the island, including those in her own family. They could use The Portal—an arch that allowed magic-gifted mythicals to travel instantaneously anywhere in the world—and go to their place, release their cry, and come back.

Since Cara's cries were for the Merrow Kingdom, she didn't get to use The Portal. She remained here.

For as long as she lived.

No option to get out of being a banshee—both her parents being banshees pretty much secured her destiny. Even her grandmother's mermaid side had come up with little to get Cara out of the banshee business. In fact, Cara guessed the tiny bit of merrow in her genes was why she got Merrow Kingdom duty.

Though just once, Cara would love to use The Portal and get off the island, if only for a little bit. Not that The Portal was usable for personal business anyway, but it was a nice dream. To pop onto the Great Wall of China. Or to the Great Pyramids. Or the Eiffel Tower.

Or just over to London for a bit. On clear days, depending on where the magical island was, she could see the coasts of Ireland, England or Scotland. And how she'd love to walk through the streets. To smell the markets, hear the waves crashing somewhere that wasn't here…

But nope, she was a granddaughter of the former Merrow Crown Princess, therefore she was stuck being a banshee as long as she lived.

Cara may not like it, but she didn't feel like her grandmother had ruined her life.

“After all, falling in love would make people do strange things,”
she told Norton
.
Her grandmother had lived a happy life on land with her banshee husband, even though she had to turn over the crown all those years ago to her brother.

Norton continued his rambling. “Certain things are not allowed to the Crown Princess. Falling in love”—he said the words with utter disgust—“is not an option for royalty. Even the British know that.”

Cara rolled her eyes. Whether she agreed with her cousin or not, it didn't matter. Maybe Cara was a romantic, but she always thought Grandmother's choice had been one she would have made, herself—choosing love over a life of solitude and duty.

But if she argued with Norton, he wouldn't leave. And she could make it the rest of the way on her own. In the distance, the water above began to lighten, a sign of sunshine above. She was almost home.

“Perhaps you're right,”
she instead replied. Not that she cared, but she just wanted him to shut up.

“I know I am.” Norton slowed a bit.

“You can go back now,”
Cara said. Her body ached from all the swimming and the scream. She was more than ready to get out of the sea for a few years.

The next body of water she'd submerse herself in would be a bathtub. With clear water, bubbles and no eels.

And maybe that pink stuff that made her skin so smooth.

Norton shot out in front of her, twisting to the left to avoid a rocky stalagmite.

Cara swam right.

Into an inky black mess.

What—who
?

Norton slowly swam over to her. “Nope, you're not a fish. Or you'd know how to avoid a net.”

“Help me!”
The more she twisted in the net, the more it tangled around her.

Norton crossed his arms. “No. You figure it out.
Banshee
.” And he turned and left, swimming back toward the entrance to the Merrow Kingdom.

“Hey, Norton! Help me!”

Surely he was kidding. He had to be messing with her. He had to be. He wouldn't actually leave her in this net. This had to be some big joke, some merrow initiation or something.

Maybe her mother—or some of her other cousins—were around.

“Mommy! Mommy! Help!”
She batted at the netting, but it was like quicksand—the more she twisted, the worse it became.

“Help me! I can't get out!”
The netting's ropes caught her foot and her arm. As she tried to get out, the strings pulled and knotted against her…

And then was there tugging toward the surface?

She twisted, found herself upside down. The light was now below her feet. Bending over, she realized the light was getting closer.

Wait a second.

She paused, trying to see exactly what was happening.

Sure enough, the netting was moving.

She
was moving. The netting had to be attached to a boat, because it hauled her toward the surface.

Oh no
.

Was this a magical net or a mortal one? Everyone knew Avalon's magical power—the ability to grow and replenish itself without the need to farm or fish. But if this was a mortal net, then it meant a
human boat
was near the island.

Humans couldn't see Avalon. At least, they weren't supposed to. She tugged at the ropes again, trying to scratch them with her miniscule nails to see if magic would scrape off.

She couldn't tell.

Cara had to get out of there. She couldn't be found, for a dozen reasons. If humans owned the net, she'd have a lot of explaining to do, what with only a fairy mouthpiece when a mortal had to have SCUBA gear to breathe underwater. Or more, how she'd gotten out here—as far as humans could tell, there wasn't an island here, it was open water.

And if this was one of the magical nets that replenished Avalon, well, the embarrassment of being tangled in it would be as bad—if not worse—than humans catching her.

“Help! Help me!”
She was really screwed now. She fought harder against the ropes, trying to pull her foot out, then her arms…

“Slow down. You're never going to get out.”

Cara spun around.

And stared. At a man's stomach. Not like a boy from school's thin frame—this was a toned body. This was a man.

A beautiful man.

Immediately, her heart pounded for a whole different reason.

He hung in front of her. Upside down. So twisted, she had to look down so she could see who this was. Otherwise she'd be staring at his waist. And the area below it…

Um. No.

She went still as she glanced at his face. He wore the same kind of air-breathing mouthpiece she wore.

He was a fairy
.

His dark hair floated like a brown mane, and he pulled out a sharp, green-glowing knife.

“Give me just a second…”
He took the knife and started working at the strings and pulling at the netting until she was right side up with him.

Thank goodness
.

She didn't want to stare at his crotch.

The knife cut through the netting and he had half of it ripped open in a blink.

“Oh, thank you
.
”

If he noticed her sudden hero worship, he didn't acknowledge it, instead remained focused on the netting.

She tried to pull her arms out, but some of the rope tangled around her. He shucked most of the netting away, then put his arm around her and pulled her free.

“Are you all right?”
he asked.

She nodded.

He kicked off, and they swam toward the surface faster than she'd ever moved. His knife morphed into a fairy wand, and he cast a bright green spell just as they emerged from the water. Sure enough, a large human fishing boat was attempting to pull up the netting. Because of her rescuer's cloaking spell, the people couldn't see the two of them as they rose from the water.

Wings burst from his back, and the thump sent them high into the sky. The air wavered around them, like they had passed through mercury, and suddenly they were inside of Avalon's magical cloaking spell.

Her savior spoke around his breather, but she couldn't understand him. He hovered in the air, his wings moving behind them. He held her high over the island and looked out through the shielding. Stormy waters churned around the boat, and the human fisherman had barely gotten their net pulled in when the boat twisted around and started moving away from the island.

“That was close
,
”
Cara said.

“The Magistrates should check their shielding
,
”
he replied.

Cara agreed—that could have wound up being very, very bad. Avalon had some defense against being discovered, but still, that was a close call.

As they soared, exhaustion started to kick in. Soaking wet and cold, she ached and part of her wanted nothing more than her own bed.

At least, she should have wanted that.

Instead, as they flew high over the coastline, she let out a squeal behind her mask. The shimmery green spell glowed around them like being inside a big bubble.

The beautiful rocks and greens below slammed together like a mismatched child's puzzle, and Cara could not do anything but stare—well, stare and cling to her savior. The cold, the wind, the exhaustion all forgotten because of the beauty of this sight.

“I'm flying. I'm flying!”

If she wasn't mistaken, he sounded like he snorted.

“Some of us never get to fly like this,”
Cara thought.

He circled the land, his wings thrumming against his back, the air rushing around her.
They didn't fly as high as the clouds, but they got close as he twisted and turned, giving her a view of her home that she'd never seen before.

The small town she'd grown up in looked like a model set, and she reached for it, like she could touch it, but nope.

This was real.

She was flying.

They flew by the school, and she saw her classmates pour out of the exits, like a swarm of ants invading. She wished she had a water balloon.

She held out her arm like Superman and laughed.

This time, she heard him laugh as well.

“No water balloons,”
he told her through telepathy.

“Too bad…”

He headed for a small house that sat outside the nearby town. From this angle, Cara didn't realize it was her home until he started to swoop down. The top of her house looked awkward and boxy, and she would have never guessed it was her home. Even the trees along the property's edges looked like bad paint blobs on the ground.

As they landed, Cara wobbled, and he grabbed her arm.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked as he tucked his air mask into a pouch on his hip.

Cara nodded and pulled hers off. “I think so.”

He released her, and Cara stumbled as she tried to take a step.

“Let me walk you inside,” he said.

She nodded, holding on to his arm. Before he moved, though, he rolled his shoulders, and his wings pulled into his body.

“Wow,” she whispered and peeked around his arm, looking for holes in his clothing. There were slits, but they looked like pleats. If she hadn't seen the wings coming out of them, she would have only thought they were shirt decorations.

His shirt was almost completely dry. How'd he get so lucky? She still felt soaked to the bone. She touched the pleats on the back and must have made a noise, because he spoke.

“You've never seen a fairy?”

She walked around to face him again, her hand on his arm. Well, he was stable and not wobbly, like her legs were. “M-m-my parents are banshee…”

“Ahh.” He slipped his arm around her waist and led her to the porch. She leaned into him, and she told herself it was because she was so cold and he was so warm.

Didn't have anything to do with how cute he was. Even if he was probably in his thirties.

When they reached the door, Cara held up her house key, but her hands shook.

“My k-key…” she muttered, shivering.

“Allow me.” He waved his hand before the door, and more green magic came out. The door unlocked and slowly opened into the little brick house she shared with her mother, father and sister.

The clock chimed—it was three in the afternoon. Each small ding punctuated their steps as they walked in.

He put his hand on her shoulder. “You need to shower, warm up.”

Cara nodded. “A bath.”

“A bath then,” he said. He escorted her to the couch, wrapped her in a quilt, and sat her down. “I'll get you one started.”

Cara nodded, or tried to, as she shivered. In the back of her mind, she knew she'd need to wash this blanket, or at least hang it up to dry. She clung to the soft cloth and saw her hands had turned a whitish-blue.