Chapter 24
Gwen
When I’d first arrived at SCUW, I’d thought the summer would last forever. Now, we were already doing the final trials before the end-of-summer games. These would determine which activity we participated in, and unfortunately for me, every witch had to compete in something.
So far, I hadn’t been selected for anything, which didn’t surprise me.
There were witches who’d been training like it was their very own Hunger Games.
I hadn’t even known I had magic until a few weeks ago, so I would have been content to just watch from the sidelines and cheer on my cabin, but Dagmar had insisted I’d have to pick something.
The last activity to test our skills was archery. I’d managed to shoot decently in the first round—a total fluke, but somehow it had landed me in the finals against the rest of the first- and second-year witches at SCUW.
We gathered at the archery range in the late evening.
The sky was clear, the stars twinkled overhead, and the moon shone brightly enough that we could all see each other in its silvery light.
Fireflies danced through the field, reminding me of the night in the canoe with Sabine.
I cleared my throat, trying to keep my focus on the task at hand, but I kept wondering if she was somewhere in the crowd, watching me.
Why did a crowd need to gather? It was only a trial run. Still, spectating was the only thing anyone was allowed to do past curfew, so here they all were.
There were fifteen of us in the lineup. The odds definitely weren’t in my favor, especially now, since we were all blindfolded.
“Can I just opt out?” I whispered to Faith as she tied the blindfold behind my head. “I’m probably going to hit someone.”
“You’re better at this than you realize,” Faith encouraged. “Trust your magic.”
“I’d trust my magic more if I wasn’t afraid I’d impale a fellow camper,” I muttered, passing the bow between my sweaty hands.
“Dagmar will have protection shields up around all of you, so don’t stress,” Faith said, squeezing my shoulder. “We’ll be laughing about this one day when we’re old witches gathered around the fire at the Halloween Festival.”
That made a lump of emotion lodge in my throat.
She thought about us still being friends years from now, not just for a single summer.
And for once in my life, I could see it too.
Making friends wasn’t the hard part, keeping them was, and I was starting to believe that I’d be keeping Faith—and that she’d be keeping me too.
“Okay, I got this,” I murmured, not sounding as confident as I was hoping I would.
“Yeah, you do!” Faith cheered.
“Ready!” Dagmar called.
I nocked my arrow and waited, my heart pounding in my ears as I imagined the target in my mind.
“Aim!”
I pulled back the bowstring, anchoring the fletching to the corner of my mouth as I held the image of the target tightly in my mind.
Target, target, bull’s-eye.
“Fire!”
An air horn screeched, and I jumped just as I released the arrow. My only hope of hitting the target was the thread of magic I was trying to hold onto in my mind.
“What was that?” the witch next to me cried.
I yanked down my blindfold and looked at the row of frazzled witches to my left. Half the arrows hadn’t even made it to their targets. Mine had thankfully landed, but nowhere near the bull’s-eye.
Surely, I would be disqualified now.
“Do you think the wolf boys will just be silent during the archery tournament?” Dagmar shouted.
“Do you think they won’t play dirty? They’ve already moved the game to nighttime, for crying out loud.
We need competitors who can handle their tricks.
All right,” Dagmar said, clapping her hands.
“It’s down to the final shootout. Astrid,” she called, and the gathering crowd erupted into cheers for her as she brushed her blonde hair over her shoulder and put both hands under her chin like she was on the creepiest episode of Toddlers and Tiaras.
“And Gwen,” Dagmar said.
I choked. “What?”
The entire Flower Moon cabin crashed into me, shaking me around and cheering so loud that I thought I might perforate an eardrum.
I looked at Dagmar for confirmation. This couldn’t be real. But Dagmar just gestured to the middle two targets.
Astrid flounced over to me with a vicious smile on her face. “Good luck,” she crooned in a mocking tone. “You’re going to need it.”
I flashed her a tight smile back. “May the best witch win.”
She scoffed, but whatever snarky remark she had died on her tongue as Dagmar called, “Blindfolds back on!”
Astrid and I both tugged up our blindfolds. My palms were clammy as I grabbed my bow, my breathing ragged.
Just think of the bull’s-eye, just think of the bull’s-eye, I coached myself. Will the arrow to find its mark.
I thought of Sabine and how confidently she wielded her magic.
I thought about how powerful, beautiful, and calm I felt around her.
The arrow warmed between my fingers as I pictured the target as clearly as if I were standing just a foot away from it.
The wind eased, and I felt the muscles in my arm steady as I waited for the signal.
This time, the cheering was so loud I could barely hear Dagmar call, “Ready, aim, fire!”
I loosed my arrow and didn’t have enough time to remove my blindfold before everyone started cheering so loudly that my ribs shook. When I yanked down the blindfold, I saw Astrid’s arrow just kissing the outside of the red center circle, but not quite making it. An amazing shot.
Then my eyes found my arrow just as I was hoisted into the air. Through the melee of flailing and clapping hands, I saw that I’d hit a bull’s-eye.
A motherfucking bull’s-eye.
That I’d hit blindfolded.
I was the champion of the archery tournament.
I, a girl who had never picked up a bow before coming here, had hit a bull’s-eye—at night—using my magic.