Chapter 15: 15 – Reading the Ancient Texts

Elena’s house is in darkness, so Ondine suggests we walk back to the archive. When she opens the door to us, I see that her face is lined with fatigue, but her eyes are shining.

“Have you taken a break since we were here earlier?” Ondine asks her.

“Let’s take one together now,” Elena says, and I have the feeling she’s been hard at work since we left. She walks through to the back room, switches on the kettle, and asks, “What have you two been doing?”

“Procrastinating,” we say at the same time, and Elena laughs.

“Okay – what should you have been doing?”

“Thom’s missed some deadlines for his dissertation, and they’re starting to turn the screws,” Ondine says. She looks at me, and I get the feeling she’s wondering how much more to say to Elena about my decision not to continue with my academic work. The weight of that decision feels suddenly very, very heavy, as the reality of what my life would be like without my work hits me. I’d lose my scholarship, of course, and there’s no guarantee I’d be able to get a work permit to stay with MFIT. It could be the end of life as I know it in Scotland.

Ondine must see the wave of panic cross my face, because she says, “We needed a break, so I suggested we get some fresh air. I took Thom to see the cave.”

Elena inclines her head in my direction, which I take as a sign for me to say something. “It’s impressive,” I say finally.

Ondine bursts out laughing. “It’s not a show home, Thom – it’s an invisible cave!”

“A visible-to-some cave,” Elena corrects her, smiling.

“Okay, but the interesting part is not really that Thom saw it – I was expecting that after he saw Hallowtide – but that he saw something inside the cave. Something I didn’t see.”

Elena’s looking at me, expectantly, and I say, “I saw shadows, like people were moving around.”

Ondine’s staring at Elena, like she is waiting to hear the truth about what that means, but Elena continues to look at me – silently, thoughtfully. “What do you think that means? Could it be a portal?”

Elena takes a deep breath. “That would explain why so few people can see it, because it gives access to another time and place. But it doesn’t explain why only Thom can see the shadows.”

“Could it be a portal that only Thom can use? Are the shadows the key to how he would use it?”

“These are good questions,” Elena says patiently. “I wish I had the answers. It might help if we all go to the cave, together.”

“Great idea,” Ondine says.

“You don’t mean right now, do you?” I ask. “It’s just, you’ve been working for almost twenty-four hours. I’m sure you could use a break. Some sleep, even.”

As Elena makes a pot of tea, she says, “Thom, I’m sure you want to know what I’ve found since you were here earlier.”

I don’t – not really, and definitely not if it has more to do with being part bird, or part any mythical creature, if I’m honest. We walk through to the front room and sit down at the table.

Elena clasps her hands in front of her and says, “The truth is – not very much more, which I know must be disappointing. But I think even that lack of information in the texts is interesting, because it tells me that whatever the source of your powers, they are rare.”

“Rare powers? You didn’t find anything else in the texts?” Ondine asks.

“No, I haven’t – not yet. I’m not saying there’s nothing else to find, but I’m saying the information is either well-hidden, or scant. It might be both.”

“What do you mean by well-hidden?” I ask. “Do you mean that the truth is buried in the pages, not revealing itself to you?”

“That can happen, but what’s more likely is that there are layers of truth. The pages reveal one layer to me, but I can’t see what lies beneath. Or I can see it, but only if I go back to it another time, or using different tools.”

“What kind of tools?” Ondine asks.

“Well, in this case, Thom. It might be that the pages will only reveal the truth to you.”

“So that means going back and reading everything again?” Frustration is palpable in Ondine’s voice.

“In the worst case, yes. But I have some ideas about which texts we could start with.”

She opens up one of the texts of antiquity sitting on the table in front of her, and slides it across to me, asking what I can see. I read it for a minute, then say, “It seems to be some kind of recipe, although I can’t tell what for.”

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Elena nods sombrely, then exchanges the ancient text for another. I start reading a highly confusing story about a coup-d’état in an elf colony, and then the letters scramble themselves on the page, and the text changes. The handwriting is difficult to decipher at first, but I soon find my groove and begin to read:

The island itself is not hostile to me. I’ve made a good life here, if a lonely one. When the clouds part to let through the sun, the white rocks are almost blindingly bright. When they are warmed by the sun I stretch out with my full length and breadth, and soak up their strength.

The days are not the problem.

When darkness falls, the calls begin. They call to me from the deep, and they call to me from the shores. Those in the deep taunt me, taunt my inability to do anything to stop them. Those on the shores call to me for help, help I cannot give. Their shadows dance on my closed eyelids, beckoning me to their rescue.

I do not know if they will ever let me leave this place, and return to the shores of home. If this is my eternal fate, I must find a way to silence the voices.

I look up at Elena, who is nodding her silent encouragement. Ondine asks what I’m reading, so I go back to the beginning and read the words aloud.

When I’ve finished, Elena is still nodding, and says, “The Mollymawk on Alba, the white isle.”

“So, banishing him wasn’t just a punishment of loneliness – he lost his powers, too?” Ondine asks.

I don’t speak. My chest is heavy with sadness. Part of it is empathy, but part feels like my own sadness, shared with the Mollymawk when I read the ancient text. The voices, the shadows. A tendril of woodsmoke wafts up my nostrils and then it’s filling my head and my chest with the strong, acrid tang of smoke – smoke that’s flooding my lungs, choking me –

“Thom?” Elena’s gentle voice calls out. Her warm hands clamp down on mine. “Thom, stay with us. Come back to us, Thom.”

I hear a thud, and my eyes open to see Elena looking across at me with kindness and concern. She’s closed the ancient text, and her hands are pressing down on its cover.

“What happened to him?” Ondine asks.

“It’s the strong connection between Thom and the lore – his lore,” Elena says.

“My lore?”

“The stories about how you came to be who you are. About the powers you keep and carry with you, those that are dormant and those that are active. Or that are being activated.”

“The voices, the shadows – what does that mean?” I ask.

“It’s difficult to say at this stage, but my guess is they are part of the Mollymawk’s sentinel powers. From the limited text you’ve read, it would suggest that the powers are always active – they can’t be switched off, whether the Mollymawk is capable of enacting a rescue or not.”

“So, the shadows I saw in the cave today-?”

Elena nods. “Might have been a sign that your powers are being activated.”

“Those were people calling for Thom’s help?” Ondine sounds as distressed as I feel.

“Possibly – we can’t be certain of too much right now. It’s important to remember that you have extremely limited knowledge at this stage, so it’s impossible to know how to fully use the powers you have been given.”

I swallow the huge lump that has formed in my throat. “Then I guess I’d better start reading as many texts as I can, right now.”

“That’s a noble idea,” Ondine says. “But Elena needs to get some sleep, and I’m not sure what to do if you have another one of your momentarily lapses of consciousness.”

“You ground him,” Elena says, kindly. “Lay your hands on him, close the text, and speak to him to call him back.”

“I don’t need any special powers to ground him?” Ondine asks.

“I think you already know the answer to that,” is Elena’s reply. “How are you feeling?” she asks me.

“Nervous, and excited, and terrified, and kind of like I’m going to be sick, and a bit desperate to get to the bottom of all this.”

“We’ll be fine,” Ondine tells Elena. Turning to me, she says, “Now let’s get down to business.”

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