I have to see what happened.
I have to tell the story.
I step into the light.
The noise is deafening. Men and women scream at a line of soldiers braced behind a wall of shields. The army moves slowly forward. There are people on the footpath, others peering out of windows, shouting out of doorways.
Bottles are brandished around me, faces covered by scarves leaving only wide, fury-red eyes visible. Stones are thrown, sticks held high in the air.
I catch a glimpse of Granda Frank shouting at the army, then an inhuman scream from above startles me as a dark smear twists in the air. A shadow-woman with wings swoops down through the crowd. They cannot see her, but as she shrieks, the shouts around me grow louder like a battle cry.
Her ecstasy ignites my veins.
Another shadow whips past me and rises behind the army. A towering woman of shadow beats her giant wings as the soldiers advance.
The Morrigan are moving among them. I search for the third and see a shadow flow through the crowd to circle round a teenager.
It’s my aunt Brigid. Her cheeks are red and her eyes are darker than before. Some of her hair has fallen around her face. She jumps back as a man pushes past. She stares through me towards the people rioting and I can see Dad in her features as she frowns. A shadow-woman rests two hands on Brigid’s shoulders. I lift the camera and point it at Brigid as her features harden.
I’m about to watch her die.
I won’t forget it. I will take her photo.
I won’t bury her away.
I’ll tell her story however many times it takes to save my family.
I hold the camera steady, as she stares at the army. She opens her mouth and cries out. She takes a step towards me.
‘Brigid!’
She turns and freezes and sees Dad as a child standing beside me, between her and the riot. I close the pinhole camera.
‘Jack, what’re you doing?’
Dad is shaking, eyes darting about.
‘You have to get out of here—’
‘Get back.’ An English voice rises above the others and I turn to see a soldier shouting at the crowd.
‘I’m scared,’ cries Dad.
The soldier shouts again and the crowd erupts. Brigid runs towards Dad and pushes him to one side. ‘Get out of the way, Jack!’
The sound of the gunshot explodes behind me and Brigid’s head whips back. The snap of bones makes me cry out.
Dad squeals.
Screams pierce my ears. People run in all directions.
‘Brigid!’
Granda Frank rushes to his daughter’s side.
As the crowd flees from the soldiers, the light grows brighter. It envelops Acre Street until all that is left is Granda Frank. He’s holding the limp body of my aunt in his arms, shadows seeping into her gaping mouth and staring eyes.
Then they too fade away.
