Page 109 of Witch You Would
Wardrobe did, indeed, make me change. I was issued a red shirt that looked like the fancier version of a SpellMart uniform.The universe had a sense of humor today, clearly.
I hadn’t even brought an apron. I’d grabbed my backpack when I rushed out, but I hadn’t packed anything. When Rachel finallyled us to the soundstage, I had nowhere to put my notebook and pencil, so I dropped them on the table and stood in our usualspot.
Gil kept sneaking looks at me. I ignored them. What did he want? Was he worried that I couldn’t keep my shit together?
Yeah, well, so was I. A burst of irritation burned away some of my nerves, then a wave of depression put the fire out. I wasgoing to lose. Gil’s charity would have to find money somewhere else. This was a disaster.
It didn’t help that Charlotte looked so fucking smug standing next to Felicia. Sinvergüenza.
Syd and the judges took up their positions at the front for the last time, Syd smiling their benevolent hostly smile.
“Welcome, finalists,” Syd said. “It’s time for the final round of this season ofCast Judgment.”
We stood like statues. I wondered what would happen if I threw up right on the floor in front of me.
“Fuck me, this isn’t a funeral,” Syd said. “Did any of you sleep last night or were you all drunk as fucking lords and youwoke up hungover?”
Gil laughed uncomfortably. I wished I was drunk now.
“Come on,” Tori said, “all of you, clap and act excited.” So we did. Gil hooted and whistled. If I smiled any bigger, my facemight split open. Fake, fake, fake.
“You’re all here,” Syd continued, “because you’ve stuck it out through round after round, making spells that kept the judgesfrom casting judgment on you.”
No, we were here because our spells hadn’t exploded.
“And now, you’ll face the final challenge.” Syd paused for effect. “Without further ado, your brief for this round: designa large enchantment that functions as an awe-inspiring, celebration-culminating spectacle. The kind that people will talkabout long after they’ve gone home from the party. You have sixteen hours to produce your masterpieces. Your time starts...now!”
I grabbed my pencil and notebook. Gil crowded in next to me, and I tried to shift sideways without being too obvious aboutit.
“Oh, right,” he muttered, and added an extra few inches.
Yeah, dude, remember how you dumped me last night? It was like twelve hours ago.
The only spectacles I could think of right now were the paradesand shows I’d seen at theme parks when I was a kid, or on TV for random holidays, or at Calle Ocho. I’d been to a few concerts with big magic, too. I should probably just pick the easiest thing to copy and go for it.
“We already did something with fireworks, sort of,” Gil said.
I jumped. Apparently I’d zoned out. I tried to stay present, but it was so hard. “Yeah. We need something different. Morecreative.” Hah. Easy.
“Something fun again, though.”
“Right. Fun.”
“Maybe something like that bubble spell, but bigger?”
“Sure, sounds good.” I wrote that down.
“A giant balloon animal bubble that bursts to become lots of little ones?”
“Okay.” I wrote that down, too.
“We could add sound effects, dogs barking maybe.”
“Dogs... barking...”
“And roosters. Like full-on sunrise cockfight noises.”
“Uh-huh.” My hand moved on autopilot.
