“You can’t afford pancakes?”
She shakes her head.
“This is unacceptable,” I pronounce. “I cannot eat pancakes alone. Sally!” I call toward the back.
She pokes her head out of the kitchen. “Yeah, Seb?”
“Double that order!” I look back at Zoe. “Do you want whipped cream?”
“Who doesn’t want whipped cream?” she says as if it’s a foregone conclusion.
“Extra whip, Sally!”
“You got it!” Sally yells. She comes out a few minutes later with two orders of blueberry pancakes with whipped cream and pours me a cup of coffee, then tops off Zoe’s cup.
“Thanks for this,” she says. “It would have been torture watching you eat those.” She points her chin at my plate, her blue eyes flashing, then shovels in a massive bite of butter-and-syrup-soaked pancakes.
“So…I’ve got an idea,” I say. “How about, since you don’t have a job, you take me up on my offer and come live in the free apartment and accept the advance I’m going to pay you on that two-album deal?”
She brushes her bangs out of the way, and her eyes go misty like she might cry. “Look, Seb. I don’t think I explained things well enough last night. I think I’d better give it to you straight.”
“I wish you would.”
“Young witches like me, we’re not strong enough to perform the type of magic you’re asking for. To deconstruct a magical object made by another witch is advanced magic.”
“You can’t do it?” My eyes narrow. It’s hard to believe. I felt the power in her voice last night.
She presses her lips together and shakes her head. “There’s a potion that young witches like me take sometimes. It’s sanctioned by our coven. Think of it like training wheels for advanced magic. It’s called gold dust, and it would allow me to do what you’re asking.”
“Then let’s get you some gold dust and make this happen.”
She licks her lips. “The problem is, I overused gold dust when I was singing for Raven’s Wish. It’s how the band got an audition with Full Throttle to begin with. When I collapsed during that audition, that wasn’t from addiction to some street drug. It was the price I paid for using too much gold dust too often. That’s what gold dust toxicity looks like in witches.”
“Your heart stopped,” I say, because I remember Crew telling me.
She nods. “I was revived, but it took three days for me to regain consciousness and weeks for me to be mentally myself again. I lost all my power. I can no longer do any magic, not even a simple spell, without it.”
“So, you can never use it again?”
She takes another sip of coffee and glances out the window. “It’s been a year, and technically, I could try again, but I’d have to be very careful. As someone who has struggled with it before, my side effects would be severe. I might code again. And if I did, it would be a far more serious situation.” She uses her fork tines to make holes in the edge of her pancake.
I take in the set of her shoulders and desperately wish I could help her through what she’s going through. I’d hand her a wad of money if I thought she’d take it. But maybe there is a way we can still help each other.
“What about a referral? If you hook me up with another witch who can do the job, I’ll pay you a sizable bonus.”
“How sizable?” she asks without missing a beat.
“Fifty thousand.” I don’t know what makes me say it. It’s way more than a simple introduction is probably worth, but it will keep her afloat.
“I’ll try.”
“You’ll try?”
“Hey, witches aren’t all fans of dragons. I can’t ask just anyone. I have to find someone who is dragon-friendly and also powerful enough to do the job. It’s a delicate situation.”
I nod. “Yeah, we kind of have to be careful right now about our identity.”
“Exactly.”
