Undineby Jane Yolen |
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It is a sad tale, the one they tell, of Undine the changeling, Undine who took on legs to walk the land and dance on those ungainly stalks before a prince of the earthfolk. He betrayed her; they always do the landsmen. Her arms around him meant little more than a finger of foam curled around his ankle. Her lips on his he thought cold, brief and cold as the touch of a wave. He betrayed her, they always do, left her to find her way back home over thousands of land miles, the only salt her tears, and she as helpless as a piece of featherweed tossed broken onto the shore. |
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