Page 21

CALLIE

I t takes me three cups of coffee, half a cinnamon roll, and two full circuits around the lake before I admit it to myself.

I can’t lose him.

Not to the lake.

Not to the magic.

Not to anything.

So I do what any desperate, emotionally compromised non-magical camp counselor would do.

I track down Hazel.

Thirteen years old. Popular. Probably enchanted her lip gloss. Known throughout camp for two things: mid-level spellwork and maximum-level sass.

I find her at the arts and crafts tent, surrounded by a gaggle of wide-eyed acolytes who are watching her braid her hair with fireflies. I swear to all that is holy, this kid has a glitter god complex.

She spots me before I even speak. “You’re looking for me.”

“I am.”

She raises one perfectly arched brow. “Obviously.”

“Hazel, I need a favor.”

“Everyone does.” She sighs dramatically and waves a hand, dismissing her audience. “Leave us, mortals. The coven requires privacy.”

I try not to laugh as a ten-year-old boy actually bows and backs away.

Hazel perches on a bench, kicks her feet up, and folds her hands like she’s royalty. “Okay, Callie. Spill.”

I lower my voice. “It’s about Ryder.”

“Ohhh.” She leans in. “Is this about the lake pulling him under?”

I blink. “You heard about that?”

“Please. Half the camp knows. Jason’s been reenacting it with water balloons and spooky sound effects.”

Of course he has.

“I want to keep him here,” I say. “Anchored. Protected.”

Her eyes narrow. “You want a binding charm.”

“Yes. Something strong enough to keep the lake from taking him.”

She whistles. “That’s advanced stuff. You’re not a caster.”

“I know. That’s why I came to you.”

Hazel leans back, chewing on the edge of one of her many hair beads. “It won’t be easy. The rift’s already got hooks in him. The magic’s older than me, older than this lake. Binding someone to the surface takes more than a chant and a friendship bracelet.”

“I’ll help. I’ll do whatever you need.”

She eyes me. “Even if it costs?”

I nod. “What’s the price?”

Her grin turns devious. “I want your shift tomorrow. Water games. I get to run it. With full glitter cannon access.”

My mouth falls open. “Hazel”

“ Full. Access. ” she repeats, smug as sin.

I hesitate.

Then sigh. “Fine.”

She squeals. “Yay! We’re making magic!”

She hops up and starts pulling supplies from her enchanted fanny pack like she’s about to host a sparkly séance.

“Meet me at the fire circle at midnight,” she says. “Bring something of his. Something important. Something real. ”

“What kind of real?”

She pauses, suddenly serious. “Something with his heart in it. Not blood. Just... meaning.”

I nod slowly.

“Thanks, Hazel.”

She winks. “Anything for true love. Now get outta here. I’ve got prep to do and boys to impress.”

As I walk away, I don’t even bother to hide my smile.

Because yeah, this might be wild and reckless.

But Ryder’s not going under.

Not if I can help it.

Not without me.

Hazel runs water games the next day.

Runs is a generous term.

Reigns might be more accurate.

I try not to wince as she steps out onto the pool deck wearing a sequined cape, swim goggles bedazzled with rhinestones, and holding what I can only describe as a modified leaf blower that’s spewing purple glitter.

“Loyal subjects!” she announces. “Today, you compete for glory, hydration, and tiny plastic trophies shaped like narwhals!”

Jason cheers like she’s Moses parting the lake.

Ryder stands next to me with his arms crossed and the kind of look on his face that says I want to intervene but I’m afraid of that small child’s wrath.

“What... is happening?” he mutters as a foam noodle is launched thirty feet into the air by some kind of enchanted geyser.

“Hazel’s running the show,” I say, trying not to sound smug.

“I can see that.”

A group of six-year-olds rides an inflatable banana across the shallow end like it’s a battle chariot. A flying water balloon zooms past Ryder’s head and explodes on a counselor’s clipboard.

“It’s fine,” I assure him quickly. “No one’s gotten hurt.”

“Yet,” he mutters.

I glance over to see Hazel levitate herself three feet off the lifeguard chair while shouting, “ALLIANCE brEAKERS WILL BE BANNED TO THE SHALLOW ZONE!”

Ryder looks at me sideways. “ Why exactly did you agree to this?”

I shrug, the picture of innocence. “She earned it.”

“Callie.”

“She wanted to prove herself.”

He squints. “You’re hiding something.”

“Nope.”

He stares a beat longer.

I give him my most radiant, lying-through-my-teeth smile.

He doesn’t press.

And I’m grateful.

Because tonight?

Tonight I meet Hazel at the fire circle with a piece of Ryder’s world in my pocket and a prayer in my chest.

That night, just before I head to the fire circle, I sit alone by the edge of the dock.

The lake’s still.

But I know better.

I know what it’s waiting for.

The float lights flicker soft around the boundary line, casting reflections like stars that sank too low.

I pull the item from my pocket, Ryder’s compass.

The one clipped to his belt that he dropped on the cabin floor two nights ago without realizing. I almost gave it back.

But something told me not to.

The metal’s worn smooth from years of use. Still ticks. Still points true. Like him.

Stubborn. Solid. Relentlessly good even when he doesn’t believe it.

And gods, I love him for it.

I’m not a hero.

I’m barely a functioning adult.

But I know this, if the rift rises, if it tries to take him, if it threatens these kids or this place.

It’ll have to get through me first.

So yeah.

I’m making a deal with a precocious thirteen-year-old witch with flair for the dramatic and a probably-illegal stash of enchanted glitter.

And yeah, maybe that’s reckless.

Maybe it won’t work.

But if I don’t try, if I just stand back and watch the lake eat the person I love?

That would break me more than any magic ever could.

So I close my fingers around the compass.

Take one last breath.

And whisper to the lake, to the stars, to whatever’s listening.

“Not without a fight.”