Please don’t let Jamie and Amelia down today.
I huddle closer to Jamie and Amelia as we pore over the map together. "This is insane," I mumble. "It’s bloody freezing."
"He’s a sadist," mutters Jamie as he picks up the bag. "‘Perfect weather’. Ha. The academy could’ve held this challenge later in the term when the weather was actually reasonable."
I rub my goose-bumped arms and glare at where the professor talks to Vincent. Vincent whispers something to the professor as he unsubtly gestures at the Walcott teams, and the two men laugh.
Impartial Vincent, huh?
Vincent hugs a clipboard to his chest and watches Professor O’Reilly. "Good luck, teams."
"Go!" yells the professor, holding the stopwatch above his head.
"Run and you’ll keep warm!" calls Remi with a laugh as he sprints past with Clive and Seamus, and the three bound into the woods.
"Can you read maps?" asks Jamie.
"Uh. No. I use my phone for directions when I need them."
"Professor O’Reilly kindly removed our phones as part of the test, remember?" says Amelia.
"This stinks!" I exclaim.
A sour-faced Katherine yanks her hair into a ponytail and jogs by—for once, I spot she’s in agreement.
"Come on!" urges Amelia. "We won’t win, but I don’t want to be the last team back."
"I don’t understand. Why are powers banned?" I grumble as my feet thud across the hard ground after her and Jamie.
"In the future, we may need to hide from hunters and humans," says Jamie. "Supernaturals could face situations like this."
"Collecting items in the woods?"
Jamie scowls at my sarcasm.
"Don’t worry, you’ll have the chance to show off your mental magic skills at that challenge," says Amelia, shooting us a warning look. "Walcott are bound to win that one with you representing us."
"What does that entail?" The cold bites my cheeks and I slow from my run. At this rate I’ll be exhausted before we reach the first stop.
"Not running around in the cold," she says and nudges me. "The competition involves a mix of mind reading and blocking another from reading your mind."
"Again, useful skills when we’re in the world," adds Jamie. "Like map reading. We got lost in this challenge last year and had to shelter in the woods overnight."
"Bloody hell," I mutter under my breath. Suddenly Andrei’s decision to use family influence to stay out of competition makes sense. "Didn’t anybody look for you?"
"Matt was with me. He’s good with fire."
I glance at Amelia. "But we’re not allowed to use magic."
"I think once we’re out of the competition, and lost in the middle of nowhere, magic is allowed," puts in Amelia.
"Why can’t we just play Quidditch instead?" I mutter.
Jamie snorts at my words as he stops to examine the paper map in his hand. "There’s a waypoint over here, I think." He indicates the edge of the woods where the bonfire was held a few months ago.
"I didn’t think any of the points were outside the grounds." Amelia takes the map from him.
"Are you saying I can’t read a map?" he asks tersely.
"No, but you did screw up last year. Remember?"
I hop from foot to foot as Amelia scolds Jamie. The two fight like siblings sometimes and the squabbling always amuses me.
I’m handed the map and told I make the final decision. Amelia pouts when I agree with Jamie, who grins and runs onwards. I trudge after him, wishing my tracksuit bottoms were thicker as my legs numb.
We reach the academy perimeter and I gaze upwards at the fence. "We can’t climb that."
"Shifters can. See, unfair advantage. We need to follow the fence-line until we reach a gap in the trees." Jamie starts walking to the right.
This is insane. I hated compulsory sports lessons when I was younger, but at least we never ran around in the dark.
The further we move into the trees, the less light we have as the canopies block the bright moonlight.
"Is there anybody around?" Amelia asks me.
"No."
"Then I’ll create some witchlight."
"No. We’re not supposed to use spells," retorts Jamie.
"Oh, come on, we can barely read the map. I’ll conjure light long enough to check our bearings, and then I’ll put it out." Amelia draws her index finger along her palm, criss-crossing until a tiny spark appears.
Amelia rubs her thumb and fingers together, closes her palm and her fist shines. She unfurls her fingers and a tiny ball of white light glows in the centre of her palm.
"Wow," I whisper. "Is that something I could do?"
"I’ll teach you. This is elementary magic."
I stare at the light. The academy spends time advancing my unusual magic skills, but I don’t know the basics. I guess I missed that part of the schooling since I spent hours learning geography at a normal school rather than creating magic lights.
"Gilgamesh and Petrescu have an advantage thanks to their eyesight," says Amelia. "Why shouldn’t we use something that’s our advantage too?" She cups a hand over the light to partially hide the spark, but the magic still illuminates her hand.
"We’ll lose points if we’re caught," Jamie complains.
"Isn't that better than getting lost all night again?" she snaps back.
"Can we keep moving and maybe work on the team spirit? I’m fricking freezing." I stride in the direction Jamie indicated.
Amelia’s light dulls as she shoves the hand in her tracksuit pocket.
We head along the rough ground towards the edge of the woods, occasionally tripping over stumps and large rocks. The trees thin into a clearing, where a log from a felled tree covered in moss dominates the space.
"I think this is the place." Jamie turns slowly in a circle.
I rest against a tree, legs aching from running around woods in the middle of a bloody winter night. "What exactly are we looking for?"
Amelia holds her hand half a meter from the floor. "A small wooden post painted with Walcott colours. About this big."
"They were in a hole last year," puts in Jamie and kicks at piles of leaves. "This time they might be buried."
"Are these definitely the coordinates?" asks Amelia, gazing around.
"Yes." Jamie rubs his head as Amelia holds her hand out to illuminate the map again. He swears under his breath.
"Only I haven’t seen or heard anybody else nearby."
"Probably due to you pair arguing about what direction to go in every five minutes," I say. "Most will be ahead of us."
Something moves in the trees and I look up for a clearer view, body switched to alert. Nothing.
"Are we still on the academy grounds?" I whisper.
"On the edge. They wouldn’t send us outside without escort. Not in the current state of affairs."
I relax—briefly—because footsteps thud towards us, cracking sticks as they approach, before a pink-cheeked, gleeful Clive and his friends burst into the clearing.
"Looking for this?" asks Clive and holds up a stake-size wooden pole.
"Yes. Where are they?" I ask.
Clive taps the post against his mouth. "They were all inside that tree trunk.
Jamie scoots over and crouches to look inside a large hole in the trunk. I cringe as he sticks his hand inside—I’ve seen enough horror movies not to do that. Clive whispers to Remi.
No way.
"There’s nothing in here." Jamie stands and I’m relieved there’s no giant spider or crazy spell on his hand. "There should be one for each team."
"Oh, whoops!" Clive chuckles and looks to his friend. "Did we accidentally take two, Seamus?"
"You bloody dickheads!" snaps Jamie. "Give the post to us."
He taps it against his chin. "What do you reckon, Remi?"
Remi shrugs but shares Clive’s nasty glee.
"If you’ve hung back to gloat, then you’re wasting time," I retort. "Go and find your other item
s before Petrescu beats you."
"But we already have our three, and we’re headed back to the sports hall." He mock-gasps. "Don’t tell me this is the first location you’ve found? We’ve found all ours."
"Give me the pole and go!" Jamie snaps and steps forward. Clive tosses the post to Remi, who catches it and twirls it in his hand like a baton.
"Guys, please," says Amelia. "You’ve already beaten us. There’s no need to behave like this. Just give us the post and let us carry on."
Remi looks from us to Clive, who shrugs. In the second Remi takes to break eye contact, Jamie lunges forward to grab the pole.
Remi yells out a laugh and parries Jamie’s hand with his forearm, as his fingers almost reach the pole. "Nice try, dude."
"Come on," grumbles Seamus, a wiry guy with golden hair and amber eyes whose movements remind me of a predatory creature—a lion? "Let’s go." He pulls a phone from his pocket. "If we go soon, we can complete the challenge in less than two hours."
"What the hell?" I protest. "How do you have a phone? Vincent took them all from us."
"Whoops, I guess he forgot to take mine." Seamus snickers.
"Deliberately?" asks Jamie.
His reply is a smirk.
"Let’s go. Leave the witch losers to their fun," says Clive.
"You can’t leave with our item," calls out Amelia as they start walking. Clive waves the pole in the air over his head. "You can’t, Clive! Don’t!"
Jamie shouts after him too and I stare in disbelief at the deliberate cheating.
"Arseholes!" A lightning bolt shoots through the trees, momentarily lighting up the surroundings with a sliver glow, before hitting Clive squarely in the back. He yelps in pain and stumbles, but keeps his grip on the post.
Chapter Nineteen
MAEVE
Amelia stands in the middle of the clearing with her arms outstretched, palms outwards as she trembles in anger. The small bolt isn’t enough to injure Clive, but she used magic.
Clive spins around. "What the hell, witch?"
"I’m sick to death over how you treat people, Clive," says Amelia in a trembling voice. "Ever since you began dating Katherine, you’ve become a total arsehole."
He strides over, rubbing his shoulder. "You shouldn’t have done that."
Amelia holds her ground. "Why? You’re cheating and I’m not putting up with this shit from people like you anymore."
Magic crackles in the centre of her outstretched palms, stronger than the witch light she created before.
He swipes a hand across his face and glares down at her. "If you weren’t a girl, I’d bloody hit you."
"What the hell, Clive?" Jamie steps forward as I look on in shock at their confrontation. "Amelia," he says softly. "Leave this. He’s not worth it."
Her hands shake and the sparking doesn’t stop. Clive sneers. "Is this about Genevieve? Can’t we drop the subject?"
"You cheated on my sister and then when she had the accident, you didn’t visit her. Not once." Amelia’s voice cracks. "I don’t know what you’ve become, but you’re not the guy I knew two years ago. That Clive wouldn’t cheat."
Clive leans closer to Amelia with a sneer on his face. "Wrong. I learned not to associate with witches, especially crap, penniless ones who’ve no chance of achieving anything in life."
The crackling energy runs down Amelia’s fingers until the tips glow like the sparklers I once held at New Year's parties.
Crap. Ash could be right. Amelia might hurt Clive and find herself carted off to join Matt in Ravenhold.
Is that what she’s doing?
"That’s enough, both of you," growls Jamie and shoves at Clive’s shoulder.
Clive straightens and stares in amused shock at the guy half his bulk. "Hands off me."
"Leave her alone," he growls.
"Or what?" he gives a derisive laugh.
Jamie squares up to him and Amelia grabs his arm with a desperate glance at me. I shake my head, wide-eyed. At least she’s backed down, even if Jamie’s about to take her place.
Does he think the Blackwood magic lingers around him without the pendant?
My answer comes seconds after Jamie mutters something I can’t hear to Clive. Face clouding with fury, Clive throws a sudden punch, upper-cutting Jamie, who reels and lands on the ground.
Everything happens in shocked slow motion—how he falls, the thud as Jamie’s head hits a fallen log, Amelia’s scream. I retreat into my mind, as if I’m in a reverse vision—I’m here, but everything feels unreal. Echoing. Dulled by the darkness.
Amelia screams again, and Clive nurses his fist, swearing.
Fury takes over, and magic floods through me. I project my mind towards Remi and focus on summoning the mental energy I need. Remi's mind is unsurprisingly empty—his only thought is to back up Clive and throw a punch at Jamie too. I blank my thoughts and attempt to see through Remi's eyes. To push into his head.
Remi attempts to step towards Jamie, and I focus on stopping his feet moving.
'What the hell?' Remi's internal thought reaches me, and I try harder as he fights against my intrusion. But Remi's strength is now in my control, not his.
I'm close to Clive.
My head throbs, but I have a firm grip on Remi. I'm inside his mind. Controlling him. Remi approaches Clive, who looks up. "What?"
Remi's mouth opens as if struggling for words.
"Dude? Are you okay?"
Amelia looks up from the ground and screams at them as she holds up a hand smeared with blood. "You've hurt him!"
"Shit," mutters Clive. "Remi. We need to go. Now."
Remi's dull, primal brain, where violence bubbles, ready to explode at any moment, helps with my next move. As Remi, I pull back my arm, gather all Remi's impressive strength, and punch Clive in the stomach.
He stumbles and his eyes darken—not with anger but a transformation from brown to almost black, like a bear’s eyes. A low growl rumbles from his chest. I’m reminded of Ash and his dragon’s eyes, but Remi doesn’t care—his primal energy surges to the surface too and he snarls back.
As Remi, I throw a punch and his strength surprises me. And he’s enjoying the fight. His thoughts echo into my head: ‘I’m sick of this dick telling me what to do all the time’.
Clive counters and I find myself mid-brawl as Remi. The punch I landed on Denny at school—that eventually led me to the academy—is nothing compared to my power now.
Seamus throws the phone at Amelia and runs towards the trees. "Let’s fucking go!" he yells.
Through Remi’s eyes, I look up from where Clive has me in a headlock. Amelia approaches my silent, immobile figure, gripping the phone in her hand.
"Maeve! Stop!" She slaps my face and the shock and her words break my concentration and unhook my mind from Remi’s. I snap back into my own consciousness, now watching Remi from myself again.
Remi struggles against Clive’s grip, but he’s the weaker of the two. "She did it!" gasps out Remi as blood drips to the ground from his bloodied nose. "The witch took me over."
"Huh?" Clive looks around at us in confusion.
"Just fucking run!" yells Seamus.
"What did you do?" rasps out Remi at me. "I couldn’t control myself."
"You need to help us. Jamie’s hurt," I stammer.
"You have the phone. Sort this out yourselves." Clive jabs a finger at me, breath laboured after his fight. "You’re in so much fucking trouble, witch."
With shaking fingers, Amelia dials a number on the phone, one hand on Jamie’s chest. "You’ll regret this. Wait until Ash hears what you did to his friend."
"His loyalty isn’t with witches," sneers Clive and wipes his nose with a palm. "And you’re not supposed to attack people with magic."
"You hypocrite," I shout. "If you report me, I’ll make sure you’re disqualified from the games."
"Sure, sweetheart."
"You bastards," yells Amelia, crouching by Jamie again. "Why won’t you help? You could carry
him."
Clive walks over and looks down at the pair on the floor. He blocks the world from Amelia’s view, hunched with arms straight and fists clenched.
"I won’t help witches anymore. Especially ones who are out of control and dangerous." He twists his thick neck to look at me. "Who attack other students with magic."
Remi hangs at the edge of the clearing, eyes darting between Clive and us. "Vincent’s right. You’re all trouble. You need keeping under control."
"Staying away from," adds Clive. He straightens out his shoulders. "So, no. We won’t help. You deserve everything you get."
"Clive..." pleads Amelia.
"Use your magic," he spits and turns away.
"You have the phone," calls Remi, "deal with it."
Shock and fear trickle cold in my veins as the three guys disappear into the dark.
"Jamie?" Amelia has one hand on his cheek and her other fingers wrapped around a hand. My stomach leaps as he lifts his head and groans.
Chapter Twenty
MAEVE
Amelia stands beside Jamie, who rests against a tree holding his head in both hands. The shifters' footsteps fade as they sprint away. I peer into the gloom after them and hold my hands against the side of my head, holding in the anger that might prompt me to act stupidly again.
"What will the guys do?" I ask. "The professors wouldn’t believe them, would they?"
"Doesn’t matter. Students will believe," gasps out Jamie. "Rumours spread easily. Your power won’t be a secret anymore."
I turn away from the now-empty trees, to Jamie and Amelia. "Does that matter?"
"Does it matter if the world discovers you’re a psychic witch with mind control abilities? Yes, it does, Maeve," says Amelia, "You’re more desirable and dangerous."
"To who?"
"Everybody,” says Jamie and winces as Amelia holds her palm against his forehead.
"You need checking out in case you have a concussion," I say.
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