‘So,’ she says, ‘I guess there’s no point asking if you’ve been using your powers.’ She glances at the camera.
‘I wanted to tell you.’
She sighs. ‘I’ve suspected you were having visions since you got here. I should’ve spoken to you before. I was hoping your father could’ve been the one to have this conversation with you, but he…’ Her voice cracks. ‘But he can’t at the moment. So I’d better do it, before you get in trouble.’
I breathe in sharply. ‘What?’
‘Like I said, we’re death poets, Michael. The filí báis. We see visions of the past, visions of death, murder or battle. Our powers come from—’
‘The Morrigan.’
Her eyes widen. ‘Be careful how you speak that name. How do you know?’
‘Meg worked it out.’
She lifts her chin. ‘You shouldn’t have included other people in this, Michael.’
‘Meg’s different. She’s been with me when I’ve seen the visions and she’s even felt some of them. It was her that worked out it was the Morrigan in the photographs.’
Nanny Bet sets her cup on the garden table. ‘What?’
‘The Morrigan. They appear in the photos, right?’
Nanny Bet grips the arms of her chair. ‘You…’ she whispers. ‘You can see them?’
I’m scared now. ‘I mean, yeah. Just like Dad could. I found one of his old photos upstairs.’
‘Where? Show me.’ I flinch at her tone, and she takes a breath. ‘Please show me. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
I stop myself from reaching for my bag. There’s something not right. Dad didn’t want Nanny Bet to know about that photo. I don’t know why, but I can’t show her.
I swallow. ‘I don’t have them. They’re all at Meg’s.’
Her knuckles are white. ‘You left them at a stranger’s? You can’t gossip about these things. Do you know what they do to us when we break our vows?’
‘What vows? I’ve made no vow.’ There’s a rush of heat behind my eyes. ‘And Meg’s my friend.’ I stand up. ‘She’s the one who’s been trying to help me make sense of what’s been happening. Why didn’tyoutell me?’
Nanny Bet reaches out her hand, but I stay where I am. ‘You’ve every right to be angry. These bloody powers are a curse. No good comes from them. I didn’t want you to get hurt, but you’re right. You deserve to know and I’ll tell you everything.’ She takes a notebook from her bag. I get a flash of a headache when I see the book, but it subsides just as quickly. ‘But first tell me how you got my camera.’
I blush. ‘We found it in Dad’s room.’
‘Where?’
He hid this from her for a reason. ‘Under the bed.’
She raises an eyebrow. ‘You’re a terrible liar, Michael.’ She sips her coffee. ‘Where was it?’
‘In the wardrobe.’
‘Ah.’ She nods. ‘His old hiding place.’
‘You knew?’
She shrugs. ‘He wasn’t very good at lying either.’ Her eyes settle on the camera. ‘I’ve not seen it in so long. May I?’ She reaches out.
I feel that tug again. An instinct that makes me want to pull it close. But I catch myself and pass it over.
Nanny Bet sets it on her lap and runs her fingers along the polished wood. ‘My granda Michael made me this to capture thevisions.’ She laughs. ‘I wanted a Polaroid, but we couldn’t afford one.’
