Tales from the Perilous Realm: Roverandom and Other Classic Faery Stories. Alan Lee

use for writing: mer-folk use a queer sticky ink that is absolutely no use in fountain-pens—and he waved it over Rover.

      Artaxerxes was, in spite of what some people have said, a very good magician in his own way (or Rover would never have had these adventures)—rather a minor art, but still needing a deal of practice. Anyway after the very first wave Rover’s tail began to get fishy and his feet to get webby, and his coat to get more and more like a mackintosh. When the change was over, he soon got used to it; and he found swimming a good deal easier to pick up than flying, very nearly as pleasant, and not so tiring—unless you wanted to go down.

      The first thing he did, after a trial swim round the ballroom, was to bite at the other dog’s tail. In fun, of course; but fun or not, there was nearly a fight on the spot, for the mer-dog was a bit touchy-tempered. Rover only saved himself by making off as fast as possible; nimble and quick he had to be, too. My word! there was a chase, in and out of windows, and along dark passages, and round pillars, and out and up and round the domes; till at last the merdog himself was exhausted, and his bad temper too, and they sat down together on the top of the highest cupola next to the flag-pole. The mer-king’s banner, a seaweed streamer of scarlet and green, spangled with pearls, was floating from it.

      ‘What’s your name?’ said the mer-dog after a breathless pause. ‘Rover?’ he said. ‘That’s my name, so you can’t have it. I had it first!’

      ‘How do you know?’

      ‘Of course I know! I can see you are only a puppy, and you have not been down here hardly five minutes. I was enchanted ages and ages ago, hundreds of years. I expect I’m the first of all the dog Rovers.