The stories said the merfolk were beautiful: a glimpse of a glimmering tail flicking out of the waves or a distant silhouette on the beach could shatter a man's heart with longing, and afterwards he would yearn for the shining scales and the taste of the sea, and neither food nor the touch of a mortal man could satisfy him.

The stories said the merfolk were terrible: sometimes they granted a sailor's wish and showed him wonders beneath the waves, but often they called storms, sunk ships, feasting upon drowned men and making jewelry of their bones; they had no souls, and to them a mortal's life was as brief and meaningless as the foam upon the sea.

But on the day he left his love's coral palace, he learned by himself that they
could weep.