Wet Magic
It was a solid, gleaming sheet of silver that rose above them like a great carpet—which split and tore itself into silver threads.
"It is the Swordfish Brigade," said the Princess. "We could swim up a little and watch them, if you're not afraid. You see, the first attack will probably be delivered by one of their Shark regiments. The 7th Sharks have a horrible reputation. But our brave Swordfish are a match for them," she added proudly.
The Swordfish, who were slowly swimming to and fro above, seemed to stiffen as though to meet some danger at present unseen by the others. Then, with a swift, silent, terrible movement, the Sharks rushed on the noble defenders of Merland.
The Swordfish with their deadly weapons were ready—and next moment all the water was a wild whirl of confused conflict. The Sharks fought with a sort of harsh, rough courage, and the children, who had drawn away to a little distance, could not help admiring their desperate onslaught. But the Swordfish were more than their match. With more skill, and an equally desperate gallantry, they met and repulsed the savage onslaught of the Sharks.
Shoals of large, calm Cod swept up from the depths, and began to shoulder the dead Sharks sideways toward the water above the walls—the dead Sharks and, alas! many a brave, dead Swordfish, too. For the victory had not been a cheap one.
The children could not help cheering as the victorious Swordfish re-formed.
"Pursuit is unnecessary," said the Princess. "The Sharks have lost too heavily to resume the attack."
A Shark in terror-stricken retreat passed close by her, and she clipped its tail with her oyster shell.
The Shark turned savagely, but the Princess with one tail-swish was out of danger, pushing the children before her outspread arms, and the Shark began to sink, still making vain efforts to pursue them.
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