“I could scry here,” Sibeal said. “This water holds many visions. But I’m sure you asked me to come with you so we could talk.”

“Well, yes,” I said. This was awkward, even though she and I understood each other pretty well. As a seer, Sibeal had a window on the future that the rest of us could not open. She did not talk about her visions. Indeed, she usually kept her thoughts very much to herself. “We should talk about Mother and the baby, and what might happen.”

“I know she might die.” My sister’s voice was small and precise. “And the baby, too. Father told me. Or the baby might be a girl. Another disappointment, like me and Eilis. Like all of us, I suppose, except Muirrin, because the first one must be special.” She sounded eerily calm.

My heart bled for her. “She loves us all, Sibeal,” I said. “Don’t ever doubt that.” I hesitated. “Have you seen anything about this when you were scrying? Have your visions shown what’s going to happen?”

There was a silence. Over the lake, Eilis gave a shout of delight as a fish took her bait. Aidan helped her pull it in. Cathal had not stirred.

“You know I can’t talk about these things.” Sibeal’s voice had a tight sound to it, as if what was in her mind hurt her. “When I see the future, I can’t tell if it’s what will be, or only what might be. And visions are never clear anyway. They’re full of symbols and suggestions and clues—it’s up to the seer to interpret all that. Ciarán says when I’m older and better practiced I’ll be able to pass on some of what I see so people can use it to help them make decisions. But I’m not going to do it now, Clodagh.”

I felt cold. “You mean you have seen something about Mother and the baby? You’ve seen it and you won’t tell me?” It came to me suddenly how truly frightening it must be to have the Sight. Sibeal’s talent was as much curse as gift.

My sister gave a little nod. “If I can’t interpret it, then you probably can’t either,” she said quietly. “It wasn’t straightforward, Clodagh. I don’t know what will happen. But if you’re concerned that I may not realize how serious this is, don’t be. I do understand. The one to worry about is Eilis.”

In silence we looked across as, on the far side of the Pudding Bowl, Eilis landed her fish and Aidan helped her deal with it. It looked quite big; Eilis would be triumphant. I hoped she had remembered to say a prayer, expressing thanks for the sacrifice the creature had made so that human folk could be fed.