The Indigo Spell (Bloodlines, #3)(60)

She didn't display my same concern. "It was nowhere near you. I made sure of that. It was simply to prove that no matter how 'boring and easy' this seems, all bets are off when someone is actually attacking you. Now then. Adrian, would you be kind enough to bring me my bag? I have some dried dates in there that I think both Sydney and I would appreciate right about now."

She was right. I'd been so caught up in the lesson that I hadn't noticed how exhausted I had become. She was in worse shape, but the magic had definitely taken its toll on me. I'd never worked with amounts this big for so long, and my body felt weak and drained as the usual blood sugar drop occurred. I began to understand why she kept warning me away from the really difficult stuff. I practically inhaled the dried dates she'd brought for us, and although the sugar helped, I was desperate for more. Adrian gallantly helped us both walk back to the parking lot at the park's entrance, keeping one of us on each arm.

"Too bad we're out in the middle of nowhere," I grumbled, once we were all in Adrian's car. "I think you'd be amazed at how much I could eat right now. I'll probably faint before we're back to some civilization and restaurants."

"Actually," said Adrian. "You might be in luck. I think I saw a place not far from here when we were driving in."

I hadn't noticed anything, but I'd been too preoccupied worrying about Ms. Terwilliger's upcoming lesson. Five minutes after we were back on the highway, I saw that Adrian was right about a restaurant. He exited onto a drab little road, pulling into the gravel parking lot of a small but freshly painted white building.

I stared at the sign out front in disbelief.

"Pies and Stuff?"

"You wanted sugar," Adrian reminded me. The Mustang kicked up dust and gravel, and I winced on behalf of the car. "And at least it's not Pies and Bait or anything like that."

"Yeah, but the 'Stuff' part isn't exactly reassuring."

"I thought it was more the 'Pie' part that had you upset."

Despite my misgivings, Pies and Stuff was actually a cute and clean little establishment. Polka-dot curtains hung in the windows, and the display case was filled with every pie imaginable as well as "stuff" like carrot cake and brownies. We were the only people under sixty in the whole place.

We ordered our pie and sat down with it in a corner booth. I ordered peach, Adrian had French silk, and Ms. Terwilliger went with pecan. And of course, she and I had the waitress bring us coffee as soon as humanly possible since we'd had to abstain, painfully, for the magic. I took a sip and immediately felt better.

Adrian ate his slice at a reasonable rate, like a normal person, but Ms. Terwilliger and I dug in as though we hadn't eaten in a month. Conversation was irrelevant. Only pie mattered. Adrian regarded us both with delight and didn't try to interrupt until we'd practically licked the plates clean.

He nodded toward mine. "Another piece?"

"I'll take more coffee." I eyed the sparkling plate and couldn't help but notice that inner voice that used to nag me about calories was quiet these days. In fact, it didn't seem to be around anymore at all. I'd been so angry about Adrian's food "intervention," but his words had ended up having a bigger impact than I'd expected. Not that it had anything to do with him personally, of course. Lightening up my dieting restrictions was just a reasonable idea. That was it. "I feel pretty good now."

"I'll get you another cup," he told me. When he returned, he even had a mug for Ms. Terwilliger. "Figured you'd want one too."

She smiled in appreciation. "Thank you. You're very astute." As she drank, I couldn't help but notice she still looked tired, despite the fact that we'd just replenished with sugar. She no longer seemed in danger of passing out, but it was obvious she hadn't recovered as quickly as I had.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked her.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine." She sipped more coffee, her face lost in thought. "It's been years since I performed the shield spell. I forgot how much it takes out of me."

I was again struck by all the trouble she'd gone through for me. Ever since she'd identified me as a potential magic user, I'd done nothing but resist her and even be antagonistic.

"Thanks," I told her. "For everything . . . I wish there was a way I could make it up to you."

She set her cup down and stirred in more sugar. "I'm happy to do it. There's no need to reciprocate. Although . . . once this is all over, I'd like very much if you'd meet my coven. I'm not asking you to join," she added quickly. "Just to talk. I think you'd find the Stelle very interesting."

"Stelle," I repeated. She'd never called them by name before. "The stars."

Ms. Terwilliger nodded. "Yes. Our origins are Italian, though as you've seen already the magic we use comes from a number of cultures."

I was at a loss for words. She'd gone to so much trouble for me . . . surely it wasn't a big deal just to talk to the other witches, right? But if it was such a small thing, then why was I terrified? The answer came to me a few moments later. Talking to others, seeing the larger organization, would kick my involvement with magic up to the next level. It had taken me a long time to come around to the magic I already used. I'd overcome many of my fears, but some part of me treated it as just some sideline activity. Like a hobby. Meeting other witches would change everything. I would have to accept that I was part of something so much bigger than just the occasional dabbling. Meeting a coven seemed official. And I didn't know if I was ready to be considered a witch.