THE giant sea monster that is the kraken sent its finned tentacles spiralling towards the ocean’s surface, pulling its bloated body behind. Its single eye rolled manically in its socket and its curved beak, the size of a schooner’s prow, was open wide, filtering the rushing water through to its rippling gills.

The kraken was hungry and there was room for only one thought in its tiny brain as it sped towards the holiday ferry above.

Kill… Kill… KILL …

‘That is such dwarf manure,’ said Lower Elements Police Captain Holly Short, muting the sound file in her helmet. ‘For one thing, the kraken doesn’t have tentacles, and as for kill… kill… kill …’

‘I know,’ said Foaly, the voice of mission control in her communicator. ‘I thought you might enjoy that passage. You know, have a laugh. Remember laughing?’

Holly was not amused. ‘It’s so typical of humans, Foaly, to take something perfectly natural and demonize it. Krakens are gentle creatures, and the humans turn them into some kind of murderous giant squid. Kill… kill… kill. Give me a break.’

‘Come on, Holly, it’s just sensational fiction. You know those humans and their imaginations. Relax.’

Foaly was right. If she got worked up every time the human media misrepresented a mythical creature, she would spend half her life in a rage. Over the centuries Mud Men had caught glimpses of the fairy folk, and had twisted the truth of these glimpses almost beyond recognition.

Let it go. There are decent humans. Remember Artemis and Butler.