Kaleigha landed with a violent gust atop a long wooden table.
“What the hell?” The oldest man Kaleigha had ever seen slammed his hand on the polished wood and glared up at her. He sat at the head of the table flanked by four women who looked nearly as old as he did.
“I’m sorry,” Kaleigha said, hopping down from the table. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Murderer!” one of the women pointed a withered finger at her. “You killed my granddaughter. Twice!”
“I didn’t mean to,” Kaleigha said. Her memory of the incident was hazy, but she felt a pang of regret. “I lost control.”
“Kaleigha?” Kahrim’s voice boomed from somewhere beyond the room. “Where are you? KALEIGHA!”
His voice brought fear to the faces of those at the table.
“In here!” Kaleigha answered, keeping an eye on the others. “Kahrim can you hear me?”
“Kaleigha!” Kahrim stormed into the room. “Don’t you harm her!”
“She cannot stay,” The old man said firmly. “She is a danger to us all.”
“Stand down, Hailmon,” Kahrim commanded. “There is something far worse coming for us. She may be the only thing keeping us safe.”
“Nonsense!” Hailman declared, bounding to his feet. Kaleigha was surprised by his liveliness. “She must go back to the city and take her place by her father’s side. She is his minion and we will not harbor her here.”
“I’m not a minion!” Kaligha said. “I ran here to get away from him.”
“I told them what she… “ Kahrim’s voice shook with emotion. He shook his head and cleared his throat. “About the old ghost in the woods. Tell them the rest.”
“Who are they?” Kaleigha asked.
“The village council.”