[ He doesn't take offense. John's little smile goes kind of wry, kind of placating: he splays his palms like That's all, the conclusion of a magic trick. There isn't even any residue on the spoon. ]

Sorry, no, that was me. If I weren't poking at it, it would just keep pretending to be coffee. [ This maybe isn't comforting. ] About half the town seems to have some sort of magic. Mine is anything to do with blood, bones, bodies... Great for healing, better for checking the stuff that comes out of the taps.

[ Also good for raising skeleton armies, but they don't need to get into that. ]