She plunged into the froth when the wave came, expecting to be tumbled, then come out the other side and gasp for air. Instead, she sank under the surface, no longer feeling the damp, her body strangely lightweight. She opened her eyes, expecting them to sting from the salt water, but instead she could see clearly the three dolphins that now swam before her, their heads bobbing at her at though inviting her to join them.

She moved her arms and glided through the water with little effort, realizing that she could breathe as well here as on land. She almost laughed. It was real, the merrow magic was real! But hard on the heels of her amusement came a wave of fear. Somehow she had to find the Land Beneath the Waves, then learn how to do the tasks that would eventually save Conlan. She took a deep breath, and followed the dolphins.

She had no idea of how long she swam, or how far. There were times when she swam alone, others when the dolphins would offer her a fin to hold, and glide her through the water at a speed she could never have matched on her own. Times when she could see the sunlight on the surface, others when all around her was darkness.

Creatures passed her and the dolphins: small fish that darted out of the way; large fish, with fins that looked like sails, that paused to watch them go by; sharks that circled as if wondering if she could be snatched away from her guides; whales that filled the water with their strange songs.

And then Muirin could see it, the Land Beneath the Waves, stretching far into the distance, a walled kingdom of spires and towers, large structures covered with oyster shells. An entire city, with streets and bridges plainly visible. And full of merrows and mermen.

As they neared the undersea kingdom, her fear returned. How would she be able to gain entrance through those enormous gates? And once in, what would she do? How would she know where to find the soul cages, the princess whose castle was without colour, or the three mermaids terrified by an ogre?

How foolish she had been to think for a moment that she could do this! She was trembling by the time they reached the massive gates, sure she would be discovered as an imposter. But she need not have worried, for the gates opened of their own accord, and she and the dolphins glided through with none to stop them.

They paused in a large square surrounded by tall buildings, unnoticed by the beautiful mermaids who swam by. Muirin watched as the gates closed silently behind her, then turned back to discover that two of the dolphins had disappeared. The third seemed to be waiting for her. She pulled her feather cape close, gathered her courage, and followed it.

The dolphin led her across the square and into a wide street lined with what appeared to be shops and houses, and filled with every sort of transport: sea horses pulling magnificent coaches; mighty water horses, which would have terrified her at home; sea serpents pulling huge barges on which mermaids lay, reclining on fanciful couches, combing their long tresses with combs made of seashells.

Muirin was so fascinated by all she saw that she soon lost track of their path, and hardly noticed when they turned into a narrower street, then a still narrower lane. And stopped before a door made of seaweed. The dolphin rapped on the door with its nose, and glided back, leaving Muirin to face the repulsive creature that opened the door.

She drew back in horror from the pig-faced merman. He did not have skin, but was covered in scales. He looked her up and down, then smiled, revealing long pointed teeth.

«Daughter of Lir,» he said in a pleasant tone, opening the door wide. «Welcome. I have been expecting you!»

She stepped inside his home, not knowing what she would encounter. The room was large, furnished as one might expect a human home would be. But there, in the corner, stacked high, were a dozen wicker cages like those used for catching lobsters. Most were empty, but four were not. An octopus stared at her mournfully from a cage in the centre row, and above it, in the top three cages, well above her reach, tiny shimmering male faces looked down at her. The soul cages.

She had heard the tales of mermen who caused storms, then captured the souls of the drowned sailors, but had considered them too fanciful to be real. But here they were, imprisoned souls, and she must somehow discover how to free them.

«Well,» the merman said, offering her a driftwood bench to sit upon while he leaned against the hearth. «How was your journey, daughter of Lir? Not too arduous, I’m hoping?»

She shook her head cautiously. «Not at all,» she answered, looking at him out of the side of her eyes. He truly was the ugliest creature she’d ever seen.

«Good, good,» he said, offering her a shell full of brandy. «For your troubles in bringing it to me.»

She took the shell and sipped at the brandy, trying to think of what she had that he might desire. She could not part with the red cap, for she had promised to return it to the merrow who had left it on the strand. With what else, then, could she bargain?

She had the golden necklace with the dolphin pendant that her mother had given her all those years ago, but one look at his neck let her know it would never fit him. Perhaps he would like to give it to one of the mermaids? She had her clothing, the net around her hair, but what would her want with those? And her cape, made of the finest swan feathers.

That was it! Daughter of Lir, he had called her. Lir, the king of the sea. Whose children had been turned into swans by their jealous stepmother.

She slid the cape off her shoulders and casually laid it beside her on the driftwood bench. He watched her movements with a smile. Would he eat her? she wondered. Those long teeth were terrifying. How strange that the female of the species was so lovely and the male so hideous. Small wonder, then, that mermaids sought human mates.

He bent to slide a hand with webbed fingers across the feathers. «As soft as I have heard! Is it true, then, that the cape will allow me to walk as a man in your world?»

«I cannot tell you,» she said, keeping her words truthful.

He gave her a merry smile. «Ah, a bargainer, are you? Very well then, how many do you think this is worth?»

«All of them,» she said, hoping that he spoke of the imprisoned souls.

«What, all three? Never!»

«And the octopus as well,» she said quietly, as a sudden thought occurred to her.

«Why? It is only a play toy for me,» he said sullenly. «I like to watch it change colour.»

«And the octopus as well,» she said again.

He gave a harrumph. They were silent then, sipping their brandy. Muirin checked the distance to the door. She would trade her cape for the souls, but not her life. Still, was this not the very reason she’d come, to do these tasks and free Conlan?

«Two?» he asked, leaning to stroke the feathers again.

She shook her head and moved as though she were about to stand.

«It’s all three you’re wanting, then, is it?» he asked, his tone resigned.

She nodded slowly. «And the octopus.»

He stared into the distance. They did not speak. The only sound was the music that floated in from the lane, a mournful tune that threatened to make her mood sink. His gaze shifted to the cape of swan feathers.

He nodded to himself as though he’d come to a decision, then turned those small eyes upon her. «Very well,» he said, crossing the room to the cages. «All three it is. And the octopus as well. I can get another in a moment. You drive a hard bargain, daughter of Lir.»

She stood, leaving the cape on the bench, and moved towards the door. He held the cages out to her. She took them, surprised to find that they were quite heavy.

«Careful not to free the souls before you reach the surface, or they’ll sink back to the bottom and I’ll capture them again,» he said, his tone merry once more. He threw the cape a glance. «I shall try it at once!»

«I should like to be home before you do,» she said.

He nodded as he threw the door open wide. «Then I will wait a day, shall I? Your day, not ours, for ours are quite different.»

She nodded and passed through the doorway. «Thank you,» she said.

«No, thank you, daughter of Lir. This is a day I will long remember.»

«I should think it will be,» she said, stepping into the lane.

«Regards to your father,» he called as he shut the door.

Muirin had hoped that the dolphin would still be there, but the lane was very empty.

«One task accomplished,» she said.

She blew her breath out in a long sigh, hefted the cages, and hurried back towards the wide street. She had no idea where she should go next and she stood at the side of the street as she decided what to do, watching the colourful travellers pass before her, each more astonishing than the last.

Except for one. The Princess, pale and with colourless hair, dressed in a misty gown, rode in an grey open coach pulled by sea horses so pale that Muirin could almost see through them.

And there, on the other side of the street, two dolphins swam forwards to follow the coach. They nodded to her and made room between them for her and the cages.

Muirin smiled. This then was the Princess the woman of the fair folk had told her of, the one to whose life she must restore colour. She bent low over the cage that held the octopus, keeping her voice very low.

«I would like to free you, Sir octopus, but I have a favour to ask in return.»

«Ask away,» the octopus growled. «I am going nowhere but where you take me.»

«That will no longer be the case if you grant me my favour.»

«Tell me what it is and I will determine if it is possible.»

He listened silently while Muirin told him what she needed. At the end of her explanation, he nodded. «A simple matter, daughter of man. I make my own colour.»

«But can you share it?» she asked.

«Why else have I so many arms? Take me there.»

And so Muirin and the dolphins, and the octopus, and the souls in the soul cages, all followed the Princess back to her castle, which seemed to be made of glass, for it had no colour at all. Nor did anything within the castle. The plantings in the garden were not green. The apples on the trees were not red, nor the roses on their bushes. The birds in the trees were neither blue nor brown. The coal in her fire was transparent.

«You see my dreadful state,» the Princess said, wringing her hands. «I would so love to live in a colourful world again, but only a human can break my enchantment. Can you help me, daughter of man?»

«I will try,» Muirin said, «with the help of my brother octopus.»

The Princess looked at the octopus and frowned. «Your brother?»

«All creatures are brothers and sisters in this world, Princess. No, he is not human, but he will produce the colour and I will apply it, and together we will endeavour to break the enchantment placed on you and your home.»

The Princess nodded, watching at first with a sceptical expression, which changed to joy as Muirin and the octopus coated everything with the colour it required. Coal was returned to black, the roses to red and the trees to a fine green that made Muirin sigh with longing for her Conlan.

The Princess’ thanks were effusive, and she offered many gifts to Muirin to show her gratitude. Muirin would take nothing until the Princess held out a magic sword.

«It will only harm evil creatures,» she told Muirin. «Never one with a good heart.»

Muirin took the sword and let the now three dolphins lead her back to the large square, the Princess’ praises still ringing in her ears.

At the side of the square, Muirin opened the cage door wide and told the octopus he was free to go. The octopus, with that strange sidewards motion he used, slithered from the cage. He paused for a moment to thank her, then changed colour and blended in with the building behind him so well that after a moment Muirin could not tell where the octopus left off and the building began.

«Two tasks accomplished,» she said.

Muirin blew her breath out in a long sigh, hefted the three remaining cages, and hurried away. She had no idea where she should go next, but she had an idea where she might be needed.

She slowed her pace as she neared the lane where the merman lived, careful to look around her in case he had not waited to try the cape of swan feathers, for she was quite sure the only thing it would do would be to keep him warm.