Then did Eva order the horses to be yoked to the chariot, and away westward did she drive.
And swimming on the lone lake were four white swans.
When Eva reached the palace of Bove Derg alone, greatly was he troubled lest evil had befallen the children of Lir.
But the attendants, because of their great fear of Eva, dared not to tell the King of the magic spell she had wrought by the way. Therefore Bove Derg asked, ‘Wherefore, O Eva, come not Finola and her brothers to the palace this day?’
And Eva answered, ‘Because, O King, Lir no longer trusteth thee, therefore would he not let the children come hither.’
But Bove Derg believed not his foster-daughter, and that night he secretly sent messengers across the hills to the dwelling of Lir.
When the messengers came there, and told their errand, great was the grief of the father. And in the morning with a heavy heart he summoned a company of the Dedannans, and together they set out for the palace of Bove Derg. And it was not until sunset as they reached the lone shore of Lake Darvra, that they slackened speed.
Lir alighted from his chariot and stood spellbound. What was that plaintive sound? The Gaelic words, his dear daughter’s voice more enchanting even than of old, and yet, before and around, only the lone blue lake. The haunting music rang clearer, and as the last words died away, four snow-white swans glided from behind the sedges, and with a wild flap of wings flew toward the eastern shore. There, stricken with wonder, stood Lir.
‘Know, O Lir,’ said Finola, ‘that we are thy children, changed by the wicked magic of our step-mother into four white swans.’ When Lir and the Dedannan people heard these words, they wept aloud.