«I will but borrow this,» she said aloud, in case the merrow might be able to hear her. «I will return it to you, I swear it. Or die in the trying.»

She shivered at the echo of her own words, but lifted the red cap and examined it. It weighed almost nothing, was craftily constructed of fine red feathers and what looked like silver thread. She turned it in her hands, looking out to sea.

Could she do it? Plunge into the waves and trust this delicate garment cap to keep her alive? Conlan, she thought, and put the cap on her head. The ravens circled her, their cries sounding like encouragement now. She smiled then walked towards the water.

But there she hesitated, looking at the waves crashing on the beach. How many times had she swum through these crystal waters with Conlan, laughing at the waves as they broke over her? She had no choice. If she did not go, Conlan would never return to her, and how could she live without him? If she perished in the trying, at least she could die without shame.

Daughter of the sea, her stepmother had called her. She was about to be just that, a daughter of Lir, the king of the ocean. She stepped forward, watching the water lick at her shoes. Another step and her skirts were wet. Another and she was in to her waist.

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.