Chapter Twenty
‘Are you OK?’ Paul’s voice cuts through the cries of the crows. They’re inside my head, calling out to me.
The tower of light in the city below is like nothing I’ve seen before. It seems almost solid and reaches far up into the darkening sky. And this time it’s white, an excruciating white. I turn my head but it pulls me back.
I have to go to it.
It drags me to my feet.
I stumble forward. Powerless.
I’m throbbing with fear and a longing to be close to the light.
‘What’s going on?’ Paul stands. ‘Something I said?’ His eyebrows are raised.
Shit, he just semi came out.
‘No, no, I have a headache.’ It sounds like a lie. ‘Like a migraine. They come on suddenly and it makes it hard to focus.’
His face falls. ‘Oh, OK. I shouldn’t have—’
I take his hand and we turn to each other. Behind him the tower of light rages, but I focus on him; his eyes softened, vulnerable. His hand is warm in mine and it’s smoother than I would have imagined.
‘You did nothing wrong. You said all the right things.’
Before we were cock-blocked by crows.
I smile through the pain. ‘This was a perfect surprise.’
His fingers stroke my palm and a thrill of electricity flows up my arm.
I close my eyes, trying to quiet the cries of the birds. ‘I’m just in a lot of pain right now and need to go.’
He takes his hand away. ‘Oh. OK. Shit. Can I do anything?’
‘Help me off the mountain?’
‘Sure, no problem.’
We pack up and make our way down. The sky seems to be getting darker faster than normal. It’s only eight o’clock and it’s usually still bright. The light rages below us. I can’t believe Paul can’t see it even as it lights up his face when he turns back to check on me.
I try texting Meg, but I’ve no signal.
The Morrigan is in my head. I have to get to that light. She’s calling me, demanding I go. I have no choice. I have to get there.
‘You want me to call Cormac, or your ma?’
‘No, no. This happens all the time. I know how to deal with it.’ Which is kind of true, except I’ve no idea what’s ahead of me this time.
Paul insists on walking me back to the house. This would normally be a dream come true, but I need this handsome bastard to go away.
‘Thanks, I’ll be fine,’ I say, standing by the neighbours’ hedge.
‘You not going in?’
‘I need some air. Seriously, all good.’ I offer a thumbs up.
He frowns. ‘OK, see ya later.’
I wait until he’s turned the corner, then run down the street in the opposite direction.
I phone Meg, but she doesn’t answer. I’ve no idea where I’m going as I follow the light. I’m already out of breath by the time I get to the to the bottom of the estate and head left, towards the city centre.
The light towers above me now, higher than any skyscraper I’ve seen in London. The Morrigan still calls in my ear. I can pick them out now. Three voices as one.
The crows circle above.
Caw. Caw. Caw.
She’s calling me and I can do nothing but go to her.
The smell is stronger than ever – salt, earth, blood.
My phone rings. Nanny Bet. Can she see this too? My finger hovers over the answer button. I want her to tell me what to do and make this all go away.
But I can’t trust her.
The crows’ cries become louder and I silence the call.
Wind pushes at my back, guiding me towards the tower of light. I pass a group of men on the street, oblivious to what’s happening to me as they walk in the opposite direction. A few glance my way. I put my head down and walk on.
Police sirens echo in the night as I turn down a street I don’t recognise. The light is beyond it.
I trip and, as I break my fall with my hands, a thick fog forms around me. I push myself to my feet and it coils around my legs, my feet lost in the swirling grey. It flows around me like mercury. The metallic smell is in my throat, choking me with the taste of blood that isn’t mine.
Then rain falls, hard bullets that sting my skin. All the while, the crows call out.
Caw. Caw. Caw.
I turn into another street. The tower of light is beyond the next set of buildings. It’s pulsing now and the crows call out to meet its rhythm. No, they are the rhythm. The wind beats on my back, like powerful wings pushing me on as the light pulls me closer.
The fog rises up around my legs and I catch glimpses of people in the mist. Warriors holding swords and axes. Women with guns. Fallen bodies. Crows feasting on eyes.
I stumble on. At the end of the next street I see a mural of a soldier with a rifle pointed towards me. I hear my dad in my vision, crying out.
Murderer.
Then I am there. Standing in the middle of the street, staring at the tower of light filling the width of the road. A sign on a wall tells me it’s Acre Street. I’ve never been here before.
There are tall walls on my left. A peace wall. Houses on my right, lights on. I see people inside, completely unaware. But the street itself is empty apart from a green car parked on the road, the driver’s door open. I know that car. It was in the vision outside Nanny Bet’s house.
Shit.
The tower is dizzying, painful and terrifying. I should want nothing to do with it. The old me is screaming at me to turn back. But the Morrigan is stronger and new me knows that. Rain and wind pelt my back and push me step by step towards the pulsing light.
Before it is a figure. A shadow?
No, a man.
‘Hey!’ I call, but the figure steps into the light and vanishes.
Caw. Caw. Caw.
This isn’t like the film lighting in the other visions. I can see nothing beyond it. I don’t know what is inside the light, but I know I can’t turn back.
I have no choice.
I have no power.
I can’t resist.
So I step inside.
My eyes are blinded with light.
The cries of crows envelop me. Shrieks fill the air.
They are joined by inhuman roars. The sounds of beasts. Calling out in anger, triumph and longing.
Then there are the voices of people. They rage around me.
I open my eyes and see a crowd, gripping weapons and pushing forward. Fists, bottles and bats stab the air. Crows fly, swooping down over them.
A wall of green moves towards them.
Soldiers.
I can’t make out the faces of the people around me, but they shout hot beats of fury as they push against the soldiers.
In the middle of them, a shadow rises and twists like a corkscrew of smoke. Its tendrils reach out.
It weaves through the crowd towards someone in the centre.
I see him then.
His back is to me.
But it’s him.
He’s wearing the brown jacket I got him for Christmas.
Which means.
He’s here.
He’s really here.
He reaches towards the tendril of smoke that in turn snakes towards him.
‘Dad!’
He turns. His eyes widen. ‘Michael?’
Everything stops for a moment. I’m shaking. ‘Dad, what are you doing?’
Shadows rise behind him as he reaches out a hand. I rush forward and grab it. It’s warm and his skin is rough. It’s really him.
The shadow rises behind him, forming the shape of a figure. A woman, made of flowing, endless darkness.
‘We have to get out of here,’ I say, pulling him towards me.
He opens his mouth, but his words are strangled as tendrils of shadow from the figure wrap round him and flow into his mouth.
His eyes cloud black, then he’s lifted off the ground and pulled backwards into the darkness.
I run after him. ‘No!’
A gunshot explodes and I fall to the ground.
The world erupts in horror.
Three voices – bird, woman and goddess – scream in unison.
As my consciousness fades, I catch a dry, wind-like whisper: ‘Brigid.’