[<< Back to part 1: Yoga, pineapple pizza and a fall with unexpected consequences]
Adelphine rarely made it into her workshop before 3 p.m., and today was no exception. Her cauldron was still simmering gently, a liquorice scent and billows of glittery steam rising from the mixture within.
What a luxury to have an electric cauldron with a thermostat. The potion needed a full week on a low, steady heat – the slightest variation could ruin the batch.
When she had started out in the craft all those centuries ago, it had been the apprentices’ responsibility to keep the mixture at just the right temperature throughout the entire process. She had taken her turn at this task for many a year. How her coven would have marvelled at the thought of self-regulating heat from a hole in the wall…
She was checking her fermentation jars when the sound of crashing crockery alerted her to some drama. It seemed to emerge from the small, glass-roofed yard that she used as a greenhouse, for crops too toxic, too rare or too capricious to grow alongside Oakleaf’s spuds. Such as the rage garlic, which seemed to disagree with itself.
It usually did. Rage garlic bulbs typically hated each other, building alliances only to tear chunks out of rival factions with their vicious serrated leaves and their razor-sharp teeth. Once all enemy groups had been subdued, the members of the victorious gang would inevitably turn on their allies until only two were left. Those two would then discover that they had been in love all along and spend their remaining days rubbing heads to produce seed for a new generation.
Not that they were actually sentient. No more so than a venus fly trap or a strangler fig or the average cabbage, just considerably louder and faster and nastier. Adelphine used the cloves of the fallen in her cooking; they gave her vinaigrette quite a bite.
Meanwhile, the five survivors from her latest crop had knocked over a pot of extremely rare silverdust grass in their attempts to break each other’s necks. How they had made their way into this corner was anyone’s guess – garlic doesn’t have legs, and she’d kept the last of the smelly little ruffians on separate tables.
Several voice messages arrived while she was salvaging what remained of her silverdust grass. The bar had run out of candy cockroaches (so? what do you expect me to do about it?). A friend was looking for a starter culture of telepathic kefir (drop by next week). The volunteers on the housekeeping rota had given the coffin cellar a once-over and were wondering if it needed flowers (why not. blood-red roses, at least half of them dead).
Blast. She’d forgotten about the vampire spray.
Her friend Jax called just as she was filling the last of a dozen small bottles from a five-litre jar.
“Hey Jax, did you get my message?”
“I did. So you’ve found one for me, have you?”
“Maybe. Not sure. Could you come have a look?”
“I’m not in Brussels this week. Is it urgent? Is anything on fire, or is the host in trouble?”
“My patient seems perfectly happy so long as we can provide waffles and Wi-Fi.”
“I’ll drop by on Monday. Meanwhile, do you have sage-and-rosemary bundles to hand?”
“Well, I have plenty of rosemary and sage.”
“You need bundles now, ready and dry. Send someone out to buy a decent supply. Smudging doesn’t always work, but it’s really your best bet with demons unless you know what you’re doing. If your guest gets a bit lively, call Izzy.”
***
At the end of the social media team meeting, Adelphine and Josse held Jade back for a quick chat. They had already explained the situation to Mirko, who set his tray down on the counter and walked over to join them.
“We have a problem,” Josse explained. “A group of really dangerous people has been spotted in the area, so everyone has to be extra-careful.”
“If they’re so dangerous, how come they’re not in prison?”
“I don’t know. I guess they’re hard to convict, maybe because they’re always on the move. But we’ve had an eye on them for a while, and we know who they are.”
“Okay, so I stay away from dark alleys.”
“That’s always sound advice, but there’s more to it than that.” Josse reached over the table to hand Jade a silver cross on a delicate chain. “You’ll have to wear this until they leave the area. They never stay anywhere long.”
“I’m not really into religion,” Jade objected.
“That doesn’t matter,” Josse replied. “I guess they probably are, somewhere deep down, because the symbol has power over them. It will give them pause.”
“And you’ll need to carry this,” Adelphine added, pushing one of her spray bottles towards the flummoxed teen. “If anyone muscles in on you, give them a few good squirts of this stuff.”
“Is this a pepper spray or something?”
“Of course not,” said Adelphine. “That would be illegal.”
In fact, she had considered and rejected the idea of adding a hefty dose of tabasco to her blend of garlic and holy water. With this addition, the spray could have worked on humans as well, but it would get Jade into trouble if she ever got picked up by the police.
That said, there were plenty of other unpleasant substances no one had thought to forbid.
“So what’s in it?”
“Secret recipe. Perfectly legit, no lasting damage. But it only keeps for a week or so.”
“One more thing,” Mirko said. “When you’re in your room, never open the door or the window to anyone you don’t know.”
“The window? I’m on the fourth floor!”
“Oh, of course. Sorry. It’s what we tell everyone, but obviously in your case it doesn’t apply.”
***
Adelphine ran into Ingrid at breakfast on the following day.
“Here’s my entry for Josse’s silly competition,” Adelphine said, having fished a folded piece of paper out of one of her skirt’s many pockets.
“There’s just one line,” Ingrid observed. “Josse filled several pages.”
“That’s all I had to say.”
“U-huh. So your entry is ‘7:00 to 23:00: Too busy to keep notes for some self-obsessed diary.’”
“Short and sweet,” the kitchen witch grinned.
“Ouch!” Ingrid laughed, and went off to work.