Whatever answer I thought she’d give, it certainly wasn’t that. I folded my arms, setting my jaw.

“Go for it.”

Theresa pushed up her sleeves and looked down into her milkshake. She withdrew a short piece of wood from her purse, looking once more around the diner. Deeming it safe, she waved the stick over the cup.

Closing her eyes, she gave the wand a little flick upwards, and the milkshake began to change slowly from brown to white.

My body reacted by scooting back, but the high back of the booth seat stopped me. I pointed at the ice cream, my whole hand shaking.

“How…how did you do that?” I wavered.

Theresa calmly stowed her stick back in her purse. “I’m a witch. That’s how. I changed it to vanilla. Want to try it?”

Too numb with shock, I just shook my head. She shrugged and took a sip, then wrinkled her nose.

“I’ve never been very good at transfiguration magic.”

Taking out the stick once more, she waved it over the cup and the ice cream turned back to chocolate.

My head spun as I watched her calmly eating her burger as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Had she really changed her shake from one flavor to another? Or was she messing with me?

The more I looked at her, though, the more I couldn’t see her doing that. She’d been bold to push past me into the back of the shop yesterday, but I’d never have known about the existence of the apothecary if she hadn’t.

What if someone else came in looking for Mushroom Juice or Cheetah Toenails or something else like that? At least now I was prepared for such an eventuality.

As my heart rate slowed, I realized too that the existence of magic could explain a lot. The unusual cat, for instance, had definitely talked to me. Nothing else could explain that.

“But how…when did this all start?”

Theresa regarded me evenly, one eyebrow raised. “When did your family start being witches?”

I shrugged helplessly, at a total loss for words. My mouth couldn’t keep up with my racing thoughts. Theresa gave a wry chuckle.

“Real witches aren’t made, honey. They’re born. The Blacks are one of the longest living witch bloodlines in the world, but they’re quickly dying out.”

I frowned. “We’re dying out?”

Her mouth twisted to the side. “Maybe dying out isn’t the right phrase. Your family is losing touch with their magic. Nobody in your generation even knows they’re witches, apparently. And that is a mistake.”

With a jolt, I remembered my dad’s reluctance to talk about anything to do with his family. Could this be the reason why? Did he hate magic for some reason?

“Why do you say that?”

She gazed down at the table, once more tracing a fry through a puddle of ketchup. “Because it means you’re not safe, Sage.”

My heart resumed its pounding. “Not safe from what, exactly?”

Theresa pursed her lips. “Remember how I talked about lots of different witch families in town? There are people who don’t like the members of the Black Family, who worked hard to drive them all out of Woods Crossing years ago. If they learn that you’re living here now…”

“What did I ever do to anyone? All I did was inherit the shop and grandma’s house!”

Theresa closed her eyes and nodded. “I agree. It’s ridiculous that you should have to worry about something like this when you’re already trying to start a business and sort out your inheritance. But I think it would be a good idea to try to develop your powers, just in case.”

I stared at her shrewdly as I chewed my burger.

“Anyway, it would be good to test you at some point to see where your talents lie. All witches can perform all types of magic, but most have one or two types that they’re really good with. For instance, your grandma had a gift with potions, hence the apothecary. She sold ingredients as well as the potions themselves.”

“What other types of magic are there?”

She brightened, probably happy to move on to less gloomy topics. “There’s also domestic magic, like growing of herbs and magical plants and the care of animals and other creatures. I’m good at spells and charms. There’s also psychic magic, or the ability to read minds, manipulate events, that sort of thing. Divination deals with foretelling the future and altering timelines. Those are just some. It would take hours to detail each specific ability and the powers that fall under each.”

I let out a humorless laugh, shaking my head. “This sounds like something straight out of a fairy tale.”

Theresa held up her hands and shrugged. “It is what it is.”

Taking a pen and small notepad from her purse, she scribbled something onto the bit of paper.

“I won’t have time before leaving to teach you much or test you. I can teach you some protective spells to use on yourself and your house, but you really need someone to teach you the basics. When you’re ready, go to this address. You’ll learn everything you need to know there.”

She handed me the paper, on which she’d written 45 Midnight Lane.

“Who lives there?”

Theresa shook her head as she stowed the pen and notepad away. “That’s not important.”

I gave her a look, which she ignored.

“Don’t tell her who sent you, either.”

“So it’s a her.”

Theresa fixed her amber gaze on me. “Yes, it’s a she. And seriously, don’t mention my name. It won’t help matters.”

I frowned. “Why?”

She shook her head. “Never mind about that. Do you have a wand?”

“No.”

Taking hers out, she handed it to me. “Take mine. I’m staying with my brothers at 54 Constellation Way. Just bring it by tomorrow when you have time.”

A slight tingling sensation went up my arm as I took the wand. “Are you sure?”

She gave a quick, curt nod.

“Now, when you get home, visualize the house from top to bottom. As you do, imagine a sort of protective bubble going around the house until it’s completely covered. Move the wand from top to bottom as you do. Then do the same thing to yourself, imagining the protection covering your body. You’ll need to work in protection not only from physical harm, but from any unfriendly spells as well.”

I raised my eyebrows.