‘Talking to some men.’
‘Who are they? Ah crap, where’s the envelope for the exposed paper?’
‘Front pouch.’
The girl is leaning in. Nodding along to whatever the men are saying. Even if I was there, I wouldn’t be able to hear. It’s a whispered conversation.
‘Got it! What’s happening?’
‘They’re just talking. She looks angry.’
‘Still?’
The girl’s face is set in grim determination.
‘Yeah, it’s like she’s… Wait. There’s something else.’
‘What? What is it? I’ve nearly got the paper changed.’
There’s something in the air beside her. Something dark. Like a shadow or… ‘I think… I think I can see the Morrigan.’
There’s a click as the camera snaps shut and then Meg pushes it into my hands. ‘Go, go, take the photo.’
I point it in the direction of the group. The men have left the girl and are walking towards us. She jumps up on the wall and sits where I did just a moment ago. The blackness is still there. It hovers above her own shadow.
The girl picks at the wall, takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. Her chin trembles.
The darkness pulses, surrounding the girl.
Her eyes spring open. Whatever fear might have been there is gone. She stretches her hands before curling them into fists and thumps the wall.
The vision dissolves. The lights go down on the girl.
Who are you?
The familiar scent of peppermint fills Meg’s room as we develop the two new photos.
The one of Dad has been damaged, despite Meg’s best efforts to change the paper. The top half of the soldier has been over exposed. His crouched legs are just visible, the rest lost in a curtain of white light. Dad has his back to the camera. I wish I could see his face. Beside him and barely exposed is the outline of a woman in a black dress. She mirrors Dad. Head raised, facing the soldier. Long, dark hair flows down her back.
She’s fully visible in the second photo: the teenage girl on the wall with a goddess of death beside her. The Morrigan leans in towards the girl, talking in her ear, like a friend sharing a secret. Her face is pale, but vibrant like snow. Her dark lips are parted.
‘So you can see her in person now?’
I think back. ‘No, more like a sense of her. It was like a shadow.’
‘Are the visions getting stronger?’
‘Yeah, it’s like I’m there. But with the shadows, maybe it’s just that I know to look for something now. Maybe she was always there.’
‘I think if she wanted you to see her, you would.’
‘Maybe she isn’t able to.’
Meg blinks. ‘She’s literally a goddess. She can do anything!’
‘No, think about it. I can only see her in photos and dreams.’
‘And as crows.’
