A ragged scream broke from Mo and split the air. Anger and grief pooled inside me. I stood and balled my fists at my sides. There was no reason to hold back anymore. Roots and vines by the hundreds crashed through the windows and burst right through the floor, tearing up the wooden slats. They twisted like tentacles, slithering in through every crevice.

Mrs. Redmond screamed as vines wrapped around her waist. A smaller one tangled itself around Karter’s leg, and he slashed at it with the knife. I focused on Mrs. Redmond, moving toward her as I completely gave myself over to my anger and my grief. A trio of slender roots broke through the window and gripped her legs. I wanted them to squeeze the life out of her.

Karter broke free and sprinted for the hallway, but he stopped short.

A hulking beast-like shape darkened the doorway.

My heart, already beating wildly in my chest, almost stopped.

A guttural growl erupted from the shadows, and a dog the size of a bear lumbered into the room, its wet lips pulled back over its gleaming yellow teeth. Karter tripped over his own feet as he scrambled away from the creature. Mrs. Redmond struggled against the vines. I was frozen where I stood.

Just then, a tall, hooded figure appeared from the shadowy hall.

They wore a sweeping black robe that melded so perfectly with the darkness that I thought my mind, racked with fear and anger and grief, was playing tricks on me. Only Mo’s terrified gasp let me know it was real.

As the figure crouched to fit through the doorframe, their hood fell down around their shoulders. A cloud of lustrous coils framed her head. Her skin, the rich color of black calla lilies, shone in the darkness. Circling her head was some sort of crown with six or seven points radiating like the golden rays of the sun. Her black eyes narrowed as she glided into the room. The dog heeled to her like a puppy, and she stroked it between its ears.

I tried not to scream.

“Calm yourself,” she said to the dog. Her voice was a symphony of thunder, wind, and fire.

Karter stumbled into the counter, sending the mortar and pestle clambering to the ground. The mysterious woman made a noise like a sigh and the dog leaped on top of him, clenching his shin in its mouth. Karter cried out, and Mrs. Redmond struggled again.

The woman turned to me. “Release her,” she said, pleasantly enough.

I let out a long, slow breath. The vines dropped away from Mrs. Redmond and came slithering over to me. Mrs. Redmond stumbled and the tall woman caught her by the throat, lifting her off the floor like she weighed nothing. It was only in that moment that I realized the woman had to be pushing ten or eleven feet tall.