The woman lays her hand on her chest. ‘My name is Morgan le Fay.’

I nod, but none of this makes sense. I know who Morgan le Fay is, but only as a character of legend. That doesn’t explain the existence of this bizarre bird-woman on my bed.

She makes a soft gulping sound. ‘You were once a sorceress of Avalon, one of my sisters. Your name was Moronoe.’

I try to pull away and she tightens her grip on my hands. ‘I know this is hard for you to believe, but what I say is the truth. A portal between the earthly realm and Avalon has existed since time began. In our world, we chose to build a glass tower around it.’

She looks at me expectantly but my mind is spinning away from me. Stroking my hand, she adds, ‘Here on Earth, the portal is located on the island. For the longest time it was a mere shimmer in the air, and then they built a lighthouse on it.’

‘Who did?’

She shrugs as if it doesn’t matter. ‘Humans are sometimes able to sense the energy of the portal, but they cannot see it. The men who built the lighthouse were no doubt drawn to put a structure there, but they wouldn’t have known why.’ She smiles sadly. ‘In Arthur’s time, the portal opened into the air and we stepped onto grass.’

I begin to feel light-headed, as if I’m no longer inside my body but floating on the edges of reality. I cast around my mind, looking for something that will help me make sense of things. ‘So King Arthur was a real person?’

She laughs. ‘Very much so. My half-brother was a good man. We had what you might call a complicated relationship, but few men in history have proved to be as courageous as he.’ She gazes into space, her eyes wistful. ‘After he fell in battle, we brought him to the island and carried him through the portal to Avalon. Of course, the lighthouse didn’t exist then. So many things have changed in the world of men.’

‘How long have you been in this world?’ I ask.

‘We’ve been trapped here since the sixth century.’

‘Over one thousand, five hundred years?’

‘That is correct. We’ve taken the form of cormorants to conserve our energy, and only fly as our true selves in winter when our powers are strongest.’ She sighs sadly, her expression darkening. ‘But we are becoming weak.’

Her grip tightens on my hand. ‘There’s no easy way to tell you this. You died in the glass tower in Avalon a very long time ago, and your spirit was pulled into the portal and came to this world.’