Chapter 3
Waiting behind the Coliseum, a building at the Cedar Point resort that housed a ballroom and various other amusements, Sylvie tugged the hood of her new cloak forward.
Once it was in place, she settled a matching emerald-green mask over her eyes and nose.
Under the disguise, she wore a simple black skirt and white shirtwaist, a common style for women visiting the resort that helped keep her from standing out when she removed the hood.
The sounds of revelry filled the air. While she couldn’t see them from her hidden spot, Sylvie could hear splashing water from beachgoers mixing with the delighted shouts of guests riding the carousel or the sea swings.
Even this far from Amusement Circle, the scent of hot dogs and popcorn wafted through the air.
On the other side of the building stretched an expanse of manicured grass where the resort scheduled sporting demonstrations and lessons for guests.
In a few moments, Sylvie would round the corner and take her place leading the archery demonstration she’d created.
She’d done it twice before, with her face covered as well as she could manage, but the addition of the cloak added a new element that had her stomach in knots.
What if she got tangled in it? What if the wind caught it and whipped it in front of her arrows?
What if it wasn’t enough to conceal her identity?
It was the warmest day of spring so far, and the resort was bustling with visitors. She needed this show to go well.
But there wasn’t time to entertain those worries. Her assistant, Lawence Miller— a lanky, no-nonsense, middle-aged man who worked at the resort—barreled around the corner of the building and sent her a curt nod. “It’s time, ma’am.”
Sylvie had to smile a little at the moniker. The only person on the property who had seen her face was the resort manager, Mr. Wallace. If Mr. Miller assumed she was old enough to be called ma’am, surely, that meant the disguise was working.
With a little more confidence, Sylvie straightened her shoulders and hefted her bow.
A leather quiver of arrows attached to a belt at her waist bounced against her hip as she marched out onto the lawn.
Mr. Miller had set up three round targets for her at different distances, and he had two more targets and a pile of extra arrows set off to the side.
The rows of wooden benches lined up alongside the lawn were over half full of waiting guests. Everything was in place.
Taking up a megaphone, Mr. Miller began his opening speech while Sylvie took her spot opposite the first target.
“Ladies and gentlemen, prepare to be impressed and entertained by the marvelous skill of Lady Robin, our own famed archer. Reminiscent of Robin Hood of old, she performs feats with a bow that are only dreamed of by most masters. Now, please, sit back and enjoy the show.”
Anticipation was palpable, emanating from the crowd as they did the opposite of Mr. Miller’s instructions, leaning forward with interest. His showmanship was a credit to the resort.
He did his job well and never asked questions.
Sylvie would be sure to commend him to the resort manager at her next opportunity.
But now, she had her own job to do. Raising her chin and praying the hood would stay in place, Sylvie notched an arrow and lined up her first shot.
It was straight and not a long distance, no challenge at all after her years of practice.
The first few shots served as a warm-up to build the crowd’s excitement.
Sylvie drew back the string, feeling the familiar pull in her shoulders.
She held her breath and stilled her hands, her thoughts, even her breathing while keeping her eyes glued to the center ring of the target.
Without moving a single other muscle, she straightened her fingers, releasing the string and launching the arrow into the air.
She didn’t need to look to know it hit dead center.
The crowd responded with polite applause, not impressed yet.
But they would be. While lining herself up with the next, more distant target, Sylvie waved her free hand at the crowd, silently thanking them.
Then she prepared for another shot and repeated the process.
After hitting all of those targets, Sylvie checked the placement of her hood with one hand before she walked to the edge of the lawn nearest to the rows of wooden benches.
In front of the audience, she held up her bow and an arrow and did a slow, silent demonstration of how to hold the bow and notch the arrow.
In the meantime, Mr. Miller gathered her used arrows and set up the targets for the next portion, where she moved into stunts.
Sylvie performed several shots designed to show off her speed and skill in handling arrows—releasing two arrows at once that thudded into the bullseye at the same time, shooting straight up into the air to hit a target lying flat on the ground, and shooting three arrows in rapid succession into the same red bullseye on the target.
The last shot especially delighted the crowd, if their increased applause was any indication.
Mr. Miller once again took up the megaphone, with Sylvie facing the audience. Sylvie demonstrated different holds and techniques for the audience to see while Mr. Miller explained what she was doing. Then they took a moment to set up the grand finale together.
It had taken Sylvie all last summer to master this set of tricks.
She’d taken up archery as a young girl, drawn to the way the world slowed down and went quiet when she focused on the small rings of the target.
Since then, she’d spent hours practicing.
Mother had even considered the activity appropriate enough to hire several excellent instructors for Sylvie over the years.
But it hadn’t been until Matilda had told her about seeing a demonstration of fancy trick shots in New York City the year before that the idea of using archery for her own benefit occurred to Sylvie.
Once the concept for the show had settled into her mind, she’d been unable to forget about it.
So she’d started practicing, planned out a whole routine, and somehow convinced the resort manager to hire her to perform.
The Lord must have worked it out for her, because there had been too many points along the way where it all could have gone wrong.
Instead, she was here, performing and earning money for herself.
She finally had a way to prove she could be more than her parents assumed.
When she revealed the successful show to them at the end of the summer, they would have to admit that she was capable of making her own choices.
Sylvie stood back, mentally preparing for the next set of tricks.
She adjusted her cloak, which had behaved better than she’d expected.
She rolled her shoulders and let a deep breath carry away any tension from her body.
These tricks required absolute focus in order to make the shots.
And a crowd like this wouldn’t be satisfied if she missed a single one.
The resort boasted extraordinary spectacles on every corner.
Sylvie had to give them what they expected, or the resort manager would find someone else who could.
Mr. Miller hurried to her side, having set up all the props. “Are you ready, ma’am? The props are set up to your liking?”
Sylvie smiled. “Yes, it looks as if everything is in place. Thank you.”
The first trick involved using a small mirror on a stand to shoot backward without looking.
The only difficult part was accounting for the wind on a breezy day.
Sylvie tended to adjust in the wrong direction.
But this day was perfectly still, so she made the shot without hesitation, sending the crowd into delighted cheers.
For the next trick, a screen stood between Sylvie and the target, which meant she had to make the arrow curve around it.
She’d learned that one from her last instructor, who claimed he’d run out of other things to teach her.
Again, it wasn’t as difficult as it looked when one understood the way it worked.
Then she performed her favorite trick, shooting an arrow through a metal ring.
While she waited with her arrow ready, Mr. Miller went to the wooden frame standing several feet in front of a target.
A metal ring hung from the frame on a length of thin rope.
Mr. Miller pulled the ring to one side and released it, allowing it to swing back and forth in front of the target like a pendulum that she would shoot through.
The precise timing required sometimes caused her to miss, even occasionally slicing through the rope with an arrow.
But she loved it for the challenge it presented.
After she made all those shots, Mr. Miller rushed to take the props and set them up together for one final, herculean trick.
Mirror, screen, and pendulum—each piece went in a precise line.
The mirror had to face a tiny hole in the screen at just the right angle, or she couldn’t see the pendulum.
The shot could go wrong in multiple ways.
She and Mr. Miller had practiced the shot layout for several hours before the first performance, and it had gone wrong many, many times.
But in her shows, Sylvie achieved a level of focus she’d never known before. She would have thought the observers would be a distraction, but the presence of an audience helped her narrow the world down to the line between her and the target. Holding her breath again, Sylvie let an arrow fly.