Far out at sea, the water is as blue as cornflower petals and as clear as the purest glass. Yet it’s very deep— deeper than the reach of any anchor rope. You’d have to stack a lot of steeples on top of each other to reach from the bottom to the surface. And down at the bottom is where the sea folk live. Now, you mustn’t think that the sea floor is only bare white sand—no, because the most marvellous trees and plants grow there. Their leaves and stems are so flexible, the smallest movement of water makes them sway as if they were dancing. All the fish, big and small, flit through their branches, just like birds in the air up here. In the deepest spot of all stands the palace of the Sea King. Its walls are coral and its high pointed windows the clearest amber, while the roof is made of clamshells that open and close with the current. It looks magnificent, because in each shell there are glistening pearls, and any one of them would be the pride of a queen’s crown. The Sea King had been widowed for many years, and his old mother ran the royal household. She was a wise mermaid, though proud of her high rank; so she paraded about with twelve oysters on her tail, while the other mermaids at court could only have six. But she was admirable in all other things, especially her affection for the young sea princesses—her granddaughters. There were six of these lovely princesses, but the youngest was the most beautiful of all. Her skin glowed like a rose petal and her eyes were as blue as the deepest sea. And just like her sisters, she had no feet, for her body ended in a fish’s tail. All day long they played in the great palace halls, where living flowers grew from the walls. When they threw open the tall amber windows, the fish would swim inside, just as swallows fly through our windows when we open them. But these fish swam right over to the little princesses, ate from their hands and let themselves be petted. Outside the palace lay a large garden with trees that were fiery red and navy blue. The fruit shone like gold and the flowers looked like burning flames, their stems and leaves forever flickering. The ground was the finest sand, but it was the blue colour of sulphur when it burns. Everything was bathed in a wonderful azure glow, so that you might imagine you were high in the air, gazing only at the sky above and below you, rather than at the ocean floor. When the sea was calm, you could glimpse the crimson flower that all the light seemed to be streaming from—the sun.