Elena says, “It took me quite some time, because there are no accounts whatsoever in the common lore. But then late this afternoon I began to search the lore of antiquity, and there is one striking account of the rescue of a young woman, as her abduction was in progress.”

Ondine sets the tea tray down on the still-dusty table, maintaining eye contact with me the entire time, measuring my reaction. She says to Elena, “Take a few bites of pasta, and then continue, please.”

Elena obeys her, and I sit waiting impatiently while she chews slowly. After a couple of minutes, she says, “Now, in the common lore those who are abducted are secreted away to the deep lightning-fast, so it’s impossible for mere mortals to intervene in any way. But in this account, the abduction is sensed, leading to a rescue.” She taps an enormous book as she says this, its cover jagged and ripped, and I realize that I’m looking at a book of ancient lore. As I stare at the book, the back of my neck turns cold, like someone is blowing icy breath on it.

“What does that mean, the abduction was sensed?” Ondine asks.

“Sensed rather than witnessed. But the rescuer was able to act quickly enough to save the young woman.”

“How?” Ondine asks, giving me a look of concern.

“By tracking a strange glow under the water.”

Both women look at me with concern, but I cannot speak. “But if the sea beasts move with unmatchable speed, how could the rescuer keep up the pace?”

“Because the rescuer is a land-dweller, a human, but with the power of superhuman flight. It has the ability to shift its shape to that of a mollymawk, also known as an albatross.”

“A sentinel of the sea,” I say, finding my voice at last.

Elena looks at me for a long moment, as though searching my face. She pulls the ancient book closer. “I want to show you something.” She turns the book so it’s facing me, and I see an illustration of a man facing out to sea, wearing trousers but with his back exposed. His shoulders are broad, and underneath them are crescent-shaped marks from the shoulder blades right down to his waist. Across his lower back is a familiar sight: it’s the mirror image of my birthmark.

“How is this possible?” My voice is shaking. “And actually, it isn’t possible, because if this is meant to mark me as something or someone special, it’s wrong.” My voice breaks, and I stop talking, afraid I’m going to cry.

“But you did save him – the boy in the loch,” Ondine says kindly.

“And I didn’t save the boy in the lake – my best friend.” A horrible choking sound rises up from my chest.

“I have a theory about that,” Elena says softly. "Even though some are born with special abilities, they aren’t in the conscious ken – known about, I mean – until an extreme event or situation triggers them. In your case, it was the abduction of your friend. Your powers were dormant until that happened.”

“But it’s too late!”

Elena doesn’t speak at first. Finally, she says, “It might be too late for your friend, or it might not be. But not too late for the others.”

“What do you mean – it might not be too late for my friend?”

Elena takes a deep breath, casts a quick look at Ondine, then back at me. “This is a lot to take in at one time. I think it’s best if we leave that discussion until after you’ve had time to digest this.”

“I don’t want to wait.”

“Thom,” Ondine says gently, covering my hand with hers, “I told you I wasn’t ready to talk about what happened to me – and I’m still not. But when I first found out that there was something different about me, I thought of it as something wrong with me. It felt like the biggest vindication of everyone who’d ever called me a freak in my life. And there were plenty – believe me. I couldn’t handle it. I ran away. From here – from Elena. I abandoned the thing I blamed for activating my powers here, in Elena’s safekeeping, even though at the time I didn’t care if she burned it.”

Ondine takes a deep, shuddering breath, and Elena leans across the table, pulling Ondine to her in a hug. “What I’m trying to say is that too much, too soon is very real when you find out that you’re special.”

She practically spits the last word out. “Now, do us all a favour, and let Elena eat her damn pasta, while you read what’s written on those pages.”

I don’t dream of disobeying Ondine, so that’s exactly what I do.

The Mollymawk’s Rescue

The Mollymawk was at rest in the stone cottage on the hill when he felt the change of the wind. Someone was being abducted from the village. With a great swoop of his wings, he rose up over the loch, searching for the beast who’d taken one of those he was sworn to protect. The water glowed green in the beast’s wake, and the Mollymawk curled his fingers towards the loch, shifting the air until the young woman was freed from the beast’s clutch.

She broke the water’s surface, and the Mollymawk swooped low, holding her close to his body. He returned her to the village, to the safety of her parents’ cottage. Instead of thanking the Mollymawk, they were angry that he’d allowed her to be taken in the first place. They threw their torches at his wings, trying to set him alight.

Even though he had rescued the girl, the village elders banished the Mollymawk to Alba Isle, where it is said he lives to this day, watching over the western isles.

I look up to see both women staring at me. Elena’s chewing a mouthful of pasta, and Ondine’s expression suggests she wants to read the text. I don’t want to be rude to Elena, but I’m full of questions, and doubt.

“I’ve got to ask – if this is ancient text, why is it written like someone’s just put pen to paper?”

“It isn’t. The ancient texts are enchanted. Those who shouldn’t read them can’t. Those who need them can always access them.”

“Ancient texts for dummies,” Ondine says, laughing.

“Not for dummies, no,” Elena smiles. “I know how incredible this sounds, believe me. I still have a difficult time accepting the power of these texts, even though I’ve seen them unlock their secrets before. I’ve also seen them refuse their secrets.”

“Close your eyes for a second,” Ondine tells me, and comes to stand behind my chair. A minute passes, and she says, “Wow – very raw deal for the Mollymawk.”

“You can read it?” I ask.

She nods. “I wasn’t sure if it was going to let me, to be honest. Or maybe it’s because it’s still being activated by Thom?”

“I don’t think so,” Elena says. “I’ve seen the page go blank before, in cases like this. I think you were meant to see this.”

Ondine nods, her face full of sadness. I can’t help but wonder if what she isn’t telling me has something to do with secrets in texts.

“What did you think of the tale, Thom?” Elena asks.

I clear my throat. “A bit underwhelming, to tell the truth. I don’t know, I guess I thought there was going to be a bit more to it.”

“More background, you mean?” I nod, noticing that Elena’s eyes are shining. “I can understand how you feel. But finding this - well, it’s just one piece of the puzzle. Now that I have this information, I have somewhere solid to start in my search for more.”

“Okay, well that’s good, I guess.”

“Thom! I find your reaction more than a bit underwhelming,” Ondine chastises. “Come on! There’s a drawing that looks like it could be done of your back. In an ancient text. You can draw a line from ancient lore to your present-day life, which is pretty damn amazing if you ask me. And, there’s more than just a physical resemblance here. The Mollymawk was banished from his village, the same as you were from your home town. So, you can trace your mild-mannered, self-loathing personality right back to your ancient ancestors. People tell you it’s all your fault, so you absorb that as your truth, and run away to lick your wounds.”

She pauses to take a breath, and I decide it’s time to defend myself. “That’s not exactly fair, Ondine. I didn’t get forced out of Juniperville after saving anybody. My friend disappeared, and I should have done something to stop it happening. Completely different.”

Ondine throws her hands up in exasperation. “You’re hearing this, aren’t you?” she asks Elena. “What can I say to get through to him?”

“What I think Ondine is trying to say, Thom, is that this can be read as a cautionary tale. Acts of heroism are often twisted, so that heroes become villains. Or suffer worse fates. The adage I live by is that knowledge is power. With this knowledge, and with whatever else exists in these texts, you become more powerful, because it brings you closer to knowing who you are. The act of heroism here is embracing the truth, rather than running from it.”

The look that passes between Elena and Ondine at that moment is so loaded with meaning that I’m convinced Elena is silently conveying the message that this truth applies to Ondine, just as much as it does to me.