"It can't be..." he muttered.

"By God, it is," the Voice snapped, and Kelty's grandfather Nico fell into his chair in stunned disbelief. "And you'd better change your ways, dear husband or I swear there'll be a reckoning beyond your imagining."

Kelty experienced this like a passenger in a sleigh, and not the one holding the reins.

A thickness in the air held them still, facing one another in a strange tableau. Then Kelty's expression softened. She was herself again.

She was fearful again.

Before Papa Nico could recover, she ran out the door and into the lane. As she ran, tiny flames sprouted up on the houses all around. They danced and twinkled, all colours of the rainbow.