“I’m not …” I began to object, but was interrupted by Darla coming to take our order.

“What are these three strong men having?” Jen asked, turning her slim neck to look at the men in the next booth. I saw the youngest one blush from where I sat.

“Angler’s Special,” Darla replied. “Three scrambled eggs, wheat toast, home fries and sausage. It’s exactly the same as the Farmer’s Special, which is what the Stewarts here …” she winked at the men in the next booth “… have ten months out of the year, them being farmers, but during fishing season they like it if we call it the Angler’s Special.”

“I’ll have that,” Jen said. “Minus the toast and home fries.” Surprised – I would have pegged Jen for a vegan – I ordered the same thing, but with the carbs.

“I am not using Aelvesgold to look younger,” I whispered when Darla had finished taking our order. “At least not deliberately. I’m using it to … explore my power.”

Jen snorted. “Explore my foot! You’re wallowing in the stuff. But hey, I’m not here to criticize. I just thought I’d give you a little heads up.”

“Thanks, Jen, not to criticize, but you could have told me earlier that the Grove was coming here. I learned about it from my dean who doesn’t know I’m a member.”

“Fair enough,” Jen said equably. “I would have, only I didn’t know until two days ago. The higher ups have been very secretive lately. A bunch of them – including your grandmother – went off to London last month and when they came back they announced – announced, mind you, not proposed – that we were now affiliated with a club there. The Seraphim. There was a bit of a controversy because the Seraphim is an extremely conservative wizards’ club that doesn’t allow women.”

“Why would the Grove – an all women’s club – affiliate with an all men’s club?” I asked.

“That’s what I wanted to know. So I started looking into the Seraphim and couldn’t find out diddly. Me, who got Sarah Palin’s stylist to talk! I couldn’t get to square one with this outfit. The only thing I could find out is that the club is older than Methuselah and richer than God … Oh, this is brilliant, love,” Jen interrupted herself to exclaim over the huge plates of food that Darla put down in front of us. When Darla had finished serving the food Jen continued, her voice low and conspiratorial. “And when those women got back from London they were all hepped up about going to Fairwick to close the door.”

“To close the door?” I asked. “Not discuss closing the door?”