‘This isn’t funny, Meg.’
Her eyes glint. ‘I’m not laughing, Michael.’
Was she always like this?
‘I told you I’m done.’
She cocks her head to one side and the crow on her shoulder does the same. ‘You belong to the Morrigan. We both do.’
Nanny Bet steps alongside me. ‘Get out of my house.’
Meg sighs. ‘You really need to shut the fuck up now, Mrs Kenny. You’re starting to piss her off.’
The crow caws.
Nanny Bet opens her mouth to speak but the crow caws again. The sound amplifies and fills the garden. I can hear nothing else and my hands shoot to my ears. I catch Nanny Bet’s eye and gesture to the house. She nods and we start to back away.
Meg raises her hands, palms up, fingers curved like claws. The air in front of her shimmers and blood starts to drip from her nails. Jet-black blood.
No, it’s shadows. They trickle down her arms, pooling at her feet. As the call of the crow blasts my ears I scramble backwards, but the shadows flow over the grass towards me like a river of viscous blood. They cover my feet, where they freeze for a moment, before moving up my legs. A chill stings my bones as the shadows swirl up to circle my waist. I can’t move my legs.
Nanny Bet is beside me, also stuck. I reach for her hand.
The crow stops calling and Meg flexes her fingers. This time, real blood – her own – flicks from her nail beds.
‘Meg, how—’
Her jaw clicks to the side and her veins pulse black beneath her skin. Her voice is dry and hot. ‘That’s not my name.’
I know what she wants me to call her, but I can’t say it. I won’t. I won’t make it real. ‘What do you want from us?’
Meg steps towards us, and her eyes and voice return to normal. ‘She wants you to do what you were born to do; uphold your family’s vow. Tell the stories of death. Tell her stories.’ She laughs. ‘Well,ourstories now, I guess.’
I should be frightened, but instead I bite back. ‘Stop this. You aren’t the Morrigan. You’re just a girl.’
She folds her arms. ‘First of all, that’s unbelievably patronising. I’m a woman. Second, no, I’m not. I offered to serve the Morrigan and she said yes. I’m a channel for her now. Iamdeath.’
I strain to move, but I’m held in place by the darkness. Meg rolls her eyes.
‘Meg, are you possessed or—’
Her eyes darken and that voice rasps, ‘Be silent.’ There’s a sound like wings flapping and a blast of cold air hits me. My cheeks sting.
She blinks and Meg’s features return. ‘Michael, please. We have to work together. She spreads out her arms, the outline of black veins tracing down them. ‘You can speak to her now through me. Find out what she wants you to do. With your power, you could—’
‘It’s a curse.’
Her jaw clicks and bones crunch. Meg lets out a breath and another pulse of air hits me in the chest. ‘Don’t say that, Michael. Don’t anger her. She’s here. I feel them inside me. All aspects of the Morrigan. Badb calls out in my mind, Nemain’s war frenzy is in my muscles and Macha’s power and vengeance run in my veins.’
Her skin glows, cold and powerful, like the moon is shining only on her. The air around her shimmers with a blackness more vital than the darkness of the night. Crows call out from the trees and her neck clicks as it jerks, birdlike, towards them.
‘Why you?’ I say.
‘They needed my body.’
‘What for?’ Nanny Bet says.
Meg curls her lip. ‘I am needed because the filí báis are failing us. She –’ she points at Nanny Bet – ‘neglected her duty. Your father abandoned his land.’ She looks at me. ‘And now the last of the bloodline is trying to refuse his power.’
