Maca-ready and silver pins extended as backup weaponry, I was ready to burst out of the circle and into the kitchen when the back door opened.
My heart leaped to my throat.
Mrs. Finnegan, my stepdad’s friend and housekeeper, walked in carrying grocery bags. In the chaos, I’d forgotten she was coming over.
“Sorrel?” she called out.
The demons turned. I froze. Mrs. Finnegan couldn’t see me or the demons on the counter, but they were surveying her with great interest. Whatever she had in those bags attracted the attention of the larger one. He darted through the planar air and appeared at her feet, poking the bag.
“Sorrel? Are you home?” Mrs. Finnegan set the bags down to close the door. The Essifer poked again and pushed the bag over spilling out the contents.
Oranges rolled, a cauliflower bounced, radishes toppled, and a box of pea shoots split open.
“Oh, my goodness,” Mrs. Finnegan gushed, bending over to pick up the fallen produce. The Essifer followed one of the oranges across the floor.
Blood oranges.
The red acid was an energy amplifier. I didn’t know if it worked for demons, but I wasn’t going to wait to find out. I popped open another belt pouch and took out a baggie with the chunks of jaggery—an unrefined sugar which I’d infused with a protection charm. I had to make it to Mrs. Finnegan before the Essifer bit into the blood orange. In the planar space I’d be safe, but saving my dear friend was more important.
The imp-like demon leaned over the orange, its smoky jaw clouding it with a pink haze. The red blush from the blood orange was deepening and soon would liquify. The Essifer didn’t have the usual jaw protrusions of normal demons its size, or any sigils, but it was still interacting with the orange’s surface like a regular imp.
I inched around the door. Mrs. Finnegan was going for the last orange. I darted across to her, and her eyes widened as her hand flew to her chest. “Sorrel, I didn’t see you…”
Before she could choke out another word, I stuffed the jaggery in her mouth. “Bite down and don’t spit it out. Stay very still. Life or death, understand?” She nodded, her pupils dilating as I removed my hand and picked up the cauliflower. I shoved a dried maca root into my mouth and went planar.
The smokiness of the demons turned solid as the planar air stilled, and I fought against the wooziness of transition. I chawed down on the maca, its malty sweetness infusing me with fire. My blood thrilled as the demons locked on to me.
Their motions sped up and then slowed into a stillness like you see in those Chinese Kung-Fu movies. A director must have plane-walked at some point because they were spot on.
My palms burned with my inner power, and a silvery glow wrapped around the cauliflower. With one smooth swing, it hit the first Essifer and knocked it off the counter. The cauliflower bounced twice and rolled at the second Essifer at the speed of a gasoline-powered bowling ball, knocking him over. The demons hadn’t disappeared yet. Usually, my energy knocked them out of the plane right away, and they dissipated…
I backed up, eyeing the second grocery bag. On top was a box of rice cereal and a bag of my favorite purple masa tortilla chips. It would have to be the chips. I spit out the maca and squatted behind the groceries.
The cellophane of the chip bag wasn’t tearing. I pulled at the seam as the demons came closer. Mrs. Finnegan looked down at me and began to tug the hunk of jaggery sugar out of her mouth.
“Don’t spit it out yet,” I shouted. The bag ripped, showering purple triangles across the kitchen floor. I grabbed two perfect ones left in the bottom and plucked another root from my belt pouch. The Essifer with the blood orange was nearly at my feet.
Giving a silent plea to the ancestors who watched over me, I chomped down on the maca. The front door opened and hit the wall with abang. Ranth strode into the kitchen, his eyes locking with mine as the first Essifer attached itself to my leg. I sliced at it with the edge of an energy-wrapped tortilla chip. It cut a trail through its jaw-face, turning the planar air pinkish as smoke expelled. With an ear-splitting shriek, it dissipated.
I limped toward the second one. With the maca in my mouth, I couldn’t talk, so I waved my arms at Ranth to move back. With arms wrapped in a green, leafy energy, he picked up the Essifer and ripped its chest open. The Essifer screeched louder than I’dever heard a demon scream. Ranth yanked something out of it, and it disappeared.
“There. Now you have a fore-bone,” he said as I spit out the maca root at him.
“How are you…”
Mrs. Finnegan tried to speak. “Con I spith wis ot?”
“Yes, of course, sorry, Mrs. Finnegan. I can explain…”
She spat the jaggery into her hand and looked at it curiously, poking it as if she was wondering what it was. Her confusion at seeing me appear, disappear, and appear again seemed less interesting than the sugar. She raised her eyebrows. I struggled for an explanation. We’d never had demons in the house before…
“What on earth is going on here, Sorrel?” Her attention moved from Ranth, to the jaggery, and then back to me.
“It’s a fantasy thing. I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize you were coming today, and we were roleplaying.” She knew I gamed with my friends.
“And the scorching in the garden?”
Her attention was split between me and Ranth, which was making it easier to stretch the truth. “Accident. We had a small fire that got out of control for a minute. All good. We caught them—I mean,it, in time.”
