A head breaks the surface of the pool and my spirits lift at the sight of her. Grinning, she takes a gulp of water then lies on her back and spurts it over herself in a great fountain. The others laugh as she hauls herself out and shakes her wings, splattering water everywhere. Her hair is adorned with curls of seaweed, her broad shoulders cloaked in frothy sea scum, and her arms plastered with grit. Tiny white spider crabs skitter across her goose-pimpled flesh as if making a home in her cleavage. She steps towards me, carrying a waft of fish with her.

She throws her arms around me, pressing her cold wet flesh against my body, and memories flood my mind. My sister, how I’ve missed you! Moronoe’s thoughts sound clear in my head and I know that whenever she was upset, she would seek her older sister out. There was no cut knee or unkind word that one of her hugs couldn’t soothe.

Glitonea pulls away and wipes her eyes, and the others crowd around and put their arms about her shoulders, their expressions mirroring the tender sadness of her own. She shoos them away as if to say it’s merely the wind stinging her eyes, and they hug her tighter.

Taking my hand, she turns and addresses the group. ‘Today we teach how …’ Before she can finish the sentence, the women push forward, honking and grunting as if annoyed that she’s taking charge again. The short angry one lets out a cackle so fierce they all stop and look at her. But whatever she says doesn’t seem to persuade them to her way of thinking as they go back to squabbling. Glitonea rolls her eyes at me and I have a feeling this often happens when Morgan isn’t around to lead.

Once they’ve finished arguing, the women step forward and introduce themselves: Mazoe, Gliten, Tyronoe, Thiten, Gliton and Thiton. Some squeeze my hands, some hug me, and the short one named Thiten thumps me hard on the arm. Mazoe can’t stop laughing and I suspect she always honked with glee, even before spending hundreds of years in bird form. A couple make only guttural sounds, but most say a few words I recognise. The more they talk the easier it becomes for them, and before long they’re speaking in full sentences – telling me how much they’ve missed me and how much they love me.