Ms. Terwilliger tilted her head and looked past me. "Adrian? You might want to keep your distance. A considerable distance."
Okay. Maybe a little scary.
He obeyed and backed up. Ms. Terwilliger apparently had no such fear for herself because she stayed only a few feet away from me. "Now then," she said. "Apply the ashes, and hold out your hand."
I reached into the bag, touching the ashes with my thumb and forefinger. Then I lightly rubbed all my fingers together until my whole palm had a fine gray coating on it. I set the bag down and then held out my hand in front of me, palm up. I knew what came next but waited for her instruction.
"Summon your magic to call the flame back from the ashes. No incantation, just your will."
Magic surged within me. Calling an element from the world reminded me a little of what the Moroi did, which felt strange. My attempt started off as a red glimmer, hovering in the air above my palm. Slowly, it grew and grew until it was about the size of a tennis ball. The high of magic filled me. I held my breath, scarcely able to believe what I had just done. The red flames writhed and swirled, and although I could feel their heat, they didn't burn me.
Ms. Terwilliger gave a grunt that seemed to be equal parts amusement and surprise. "Remarkable. I forget sometimes what a natural you really are. It's only red, but something tells me, it won't take long before you can produce blue ones without the ashes. Calling elements out of the air is easier than trying to transform one substance into another."
I stared at the fireball, entranced, but soon found myself getting tired. The flames flickered, shrank, and then faded away altogether.
"The sooner you get rid of it, the better," she told me. "You'll just use up your own energy trying to sustain it. Best to throw it at your adversary and quickly summon another. Try again, and this time, throw it."
I called the fire once more and felt a small bit of satisfaction at seeing it take on more of an orange hue. I'd learned in my very first childhood chemistry lessons that the lighter a flame was, the hotter it burned. Getting to blue anytime soon still seemed like a long shot.
And speaking of long shots . . . I threw the fireball.
Or, well, I tried. My control of it faltered when I attempted to send it off toward a bare patch of ground. The fireball splintered apart, the flames disappearing into smoke that was carried off by the wind.
"It's hard," I said, knowing how lame that sounded. "Trying to hold it and throw it is just like an ordinary physical thing. I have to do that while still controlling the magic."
"Exactly." Ms. Terwilliger seemed very pleased. "And that's where the practice comes in."
Fortunately, it didn't take too many attempts before I figured out how to make it all work together. Adrian cheered me on when I successfully managed to throw my first fireball, resulting in a beautiful shot that perfectly hit the rock I'd been aiming for. I flashed Ms. Terwilliger a triumphant look and waited for the next spell we'd be moving on to. To my surprise, she didn't seem nearly as impressed as I expected her to be.
"Do it again," she said.
"But I've got it down," I protested. "We should try something else. I was reading the other part of the book - "
"You have no business doing that yet," she scolded. "You think this is exhausting? You'd pass out attempting one of the more advanced spells. Now." She pointed at the hard desert floor. "Again."
I wanted to tell her that it was impossible for me not to read ahead in a book. It was just how I operated with all my classes. Something told me now was not the best time to bring that up.
She made me practice the throw over and over. Once she was convinced I had it down, she had me work on increasing the fire's heat. I finally managed to get up to yellow but could go no farther. Then I had to work on casting the spell without the ashes. Once I reached that milestone, it was back to practicing the throws. She picked various targets for me, and I hit them all effortlessly.
"Just like Skee-Ball," I muttered. "Easy and boring."
"Yes," Ms. Terwilliger agreed. "It's easy hitting inanimate objects. But moving targets? Living targets? Not quite so easy. So, let's move on to that, shall we?"
The fireball I'd been holding above my hand vanished as shock shattered my control. "What do you mean?" If she expected me to start aiming at birds or rodents, she was in for a rude awakening. There was no way I was going to incinerate something alive. "What am I supposed to hit?"
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.