I took a deep breath and summoned my next fireball. I was so frazzled that it started off red, and I had to work to heat it up. Then I looked up at Ms. Terwilliger and braced myself for the shot. It was more difficult than I expected—and not just because I was worried about hurting her. Throwing something at the ground required almost no thought. The focus there was on aim and little else. But facing a person, seeing her eyes and the way her chest rose and fell while breathing . . . well, she was right. It was entirely different from hitting an inanimate object. I began to tremble, unsure if I could do it.
“You’re wasting time,” she warned. “You’re sapping energy again. Throw.”
The command in her voice jolted me to action. I threw.
The fireball flew from my hand, straight at her—but it never made contact. I couldn’t believe my eyes. About a foot in front of her, it hit some kind of invisible barrier, smashing apart into small flames, which quickly dissipated into smoke. My jaw dropped.
“What is that?” I exclaimed.
“A very, very powerful shielding spell,” she said, clearly enjoying my reaction. She lifted up a pendant that had been hanging under her shirt. It didn’t look like anything special, just a piece of unpolished carnelian wrapped in silver wire. “It took incredible effort to make this . . . and requires more effort still in order to maintain it. The result is an invisible shield—as you can see—that’s impervious to most physical and magical attacks.”
Adrian was by my side in a flash. “Hang on. There’s a spell that makes you invulnerable to everything, and you only now just thought to mention it? You’ve been going on this whole time about how Sydney’s in danger! Why don’t you just teach her this one? Then your sister can’t touch her.” Although it didn’t seem like Adrian was about to attack her as he had Marcus, he was almost just as upset. His face was flushed, his eyes hard. He had clenched his fists at his side, but I didn’t even think he noticed. It was more of that primal instinct.
Ms. Terwilliger remained strong in the face of his outrage. “If it were that simple, then believe me, I would. Unfortunately, there are a number of problems. One is that Sydney, prodigy that she is, is nowhere near strong enough to cast this. I’m hardly strong enough. The other problem is that it has an extremely short time frame, which is why I’ve been so adamant about a schedule. It only lasts six hours and requires so much effort that you can’t just cast it and permanently keep it on you at all times. I’m already worn out and will be even more so once it fades. I won’t be able to cast it—or hardly any other magic—for at least another day. That’s why I need Sydney to be prepared at all times.”
Neither Adrian nor I said anything right away. I’d taken note of her weary state when she got in the car but hadn’t thought much more about it. As we’d continued to practice out here, I’d observed her sweating and looking more fatigued, but I’d written it off to the heat. Only now could I fully appreciate the extent of what she had done.
“Why would you go to so much effort?” I asked.
“To keep you alive,” she snapped. “Now, don’t make this a waste. We’ve only got one more hour before it wears off, and you need to be able to aim at someone without thinking twice. You hesitate too much.”
She was right. Even knowing that she was invulnerable, I still had a difficult time attacking her. Violence just wasn’t something I embraced. I had to push down all my inner worries and treat it exactly like Skee-Ball. Aim, throw. Aim, throw. Don’t think.
Soon, I was able to fight past my anxieties and throw without hesitation. She even tried moving around a little, just to give me a better feel for what it’d be like with a real foe, but I didn’t find it to be much of a challenge. She was simply too tired and unable to run around or dodge me. I actually started to feel bad for her. She looked like she was about ready to pass out, and I felt guilty sizing up my next shot and—
“Ahh!”
Fire arced from Ms. Terwilliger’s fingertips just as I released my fireball. My shot went wide, the ball disintegrating before it got anywhere near her. The fire she’d released passed me, about a foot away. With a weary grin, she sank to her knees and exhaled.
“Class dismissed,” she said.
“What was that?” I asked. “I don’t have a magic shield on me!”
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.”