‘Nope, I saw literally nothing in that vision. That green car wasn’t there in reality, but that’s about it.’
Meg shakes her head. ‘The Morrigan wouldn’t show you this for no reason. There must be something here. Really look.’
I search the image. The house is normal. Meg is leaving through the front door with Nanny Bet behind her. In the living room window, she appears again. ‘My nan’s there in the vision too.’ I point. ‘Though there’s nothing weird about that. It’s her house.’
Everything else is the same. My eyes linger on a second crow above the house. I’d not noticed it before, but then I hadn’t known it could be an animal version of a goddesses.
The bird is flapping in mid-air. Flying over the—
‘The back garden. The crow.’
‘What about it?’ Meg leans in.
‘The missing vision.’
Meg’s mouth drops open. ‘Shit! She wants you to go back. There’s something you need to see.’
I’ve been avoiding this for long enough.
‘Let’s go see what I forgot.’
The outside of Nanny Bet’s house is just as it is in the photo, minus the green car.
I open the gate and head up the path to the front door.
‘What are you doing?’ Meg hisses.
My hand pauses mid-air as I’m about to knock. ‘Checking if she’s in.’
‘And then what? We ask if we can go check for visions?’
‘I can’t just sneak into her garden! What if someone thinks we’re burglars?’
Meg looks me up and down. ‘Yeah, you scream criminal mastermind. Listen, your dad didn’t want her to know about the visions, his power, right?’
‘We don’t know that.’
‘Well, while it’s a possibility, I think you should try to keep her out of it.’
I’m getting tired of Meg being so off about my nan. I’m about to say so when a burst of pain explodes in the back of my head.
Meg grips my arm. ‘Where is it?’
I can’t see any light yet, but I have a good idea where it’s coming from. I race round the side of the house, through the gate and into the back garden.
I stop dead. The entire garden is lit up as if I’ve stepped onto a film set.
‘What can you see?’ Meg’s voice sounds distant, like I’m underwater.
There’s a movement at the back of the garden and I catch my breath. There’s a soldier crouched by the fence, a rifle in his hand.
‘It’s a soldier.’
A memory stirs. Then I see him. A young boy, shouting.
‘I’ve seen this before.’
‘What is it?’
