The Indigo Spell (19 page)

Ms. Terwilliger pushed her glasses up her nose and backed up several feet. “Me.”

I waited for the punch line or at least some further explanation, but none came. I
glanced behind me at Adrian, hoping perhaps he might shed some light on this, but
he looked as astounded as I felt. I turned back to the singed ground where my earlier
fireballs had struck.

“Ms. Terwilliger, you can’t ask me to hit you.”

Her lips twitched into a small half smile. “I assure you, I can. Go ahead, you can’t
hurt me.”

I had to think a few moments for how to phrase my next response. “I’m a pretty good
shot, ma’am. I can hit you.”

This earned an outright laugh. “Hit, yes. Hurt, no. Go ahead and throw. Our time is
running out.”

I didn’t know how much time had passed exactly, but the sun was definitely lower in
the sky. I looked back at Adrian, silently asking for help in dealing with this insanity.
His only response was a shrug.

“You’re a witness to this,” I told him. “You heard her tell me to do it.”

He nodded. “You’re totally blameless.”

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.”

“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.

“I’ll think about it,” I said at last. I wished I could give her more, but my protective
instincts had seized me.

“I’ll take what I can get,” she said with a small smile. Her phone chimed, and she
glanced down. “Speaking of the Stelle, I need to talk to one of my sisters. I’ll meet
you at the car.” She finished her coffee and headed outside.

Adrian and I followed a few minutes later. I was still troubled about the coven and
caught hold of his sleeve to keep him back. I spoke softly.

“Adrian, when did I reach this point? Trying to crack open the Alchemists and practicing
magic in the desert?” Last summer, when I’d been with Rose in Russia, I couldn’t even
tolerate the idea of sleeping in the same room with her. I’d had too many Alchemist
mantras running through my mind, warning me of vampire evils. And now, here I was,
in league with vampires and questioning the Alchemists. That girl in Russia had nothing
in common with the one in Palm Springs.

No, I’m still the same person at heart.
I had to be . . . because if I wasn’t, then who was I?

Adrian smiled at me sympathetically. “I think it’s been a culmination of things. Your
curious nature. Your need to do the right thing. It’s all led you to this point. I
know the Alchemists have taught you to think a certain way, but what you’re doing
now—it’s not wrong.”

I raked my hand through my hair. “And yet, despite all of that, I can’t bring myself
to have one tiny conversation with Ms. Terwilliger’s coven.”

“You have boundaries.” He gently smoothed one of my wayward locks. “Nothing wrong
with that.”

“Marcus would say it’s the tattoo holding me back.”

Adrian dropped his hand. “Marcus says a lot of things.”

“I don’t think Marcus is trying to deceive me. He believes in his cause, and I’m still
worried about mind control . . . but honestly, it’s hard to believe I’m being held
back when I’m out here doing stuff like this.” I gestured outside, to where Ms. Terwilliger
was. “Alchemist dogma says this magic is unnatural and wrong.”

Adrian’s smile returned. “If it makes you feel better, you actually looked natural
out there—back in the park.”

“Doing . . . what? Throwing fireballs?” I shook my head. “There’s nothing natural
about that.”

“You wouldn’t think so, but . . . well. You were . . . amazing, throwing that fire
like some kind of ancient warrior goddess.”

Annoyed, I turned away. “Stop making fun of me.”

He caught my arm and pulled me back toward him. “I am absolutely serious.”

I swallowed, speechless for a moment. All I was aware of was how close we were, that
he was holding me to him with only a few inches between us.
Almost as close as at the sorority.
“I’m not a warrior or a goddess,” I managed at last.