Jakub pulled the trigger five times. All five cans were sent tumbling into the grass.

Beside him, Cheshire let out a whistle. Jakub felt himself blush and hoped no one would notice.

"That's what we need you to do eventually," said Barney while Hannah reset the cans for them along the wooden fence. "Give it a try."

Cheshire made a face. He was on all counts a ridiculous image: a broad-shouldered brute of a teen in a tailored waistcoat and patterned tie, standing in the middle of a country goat pen, scowling childishly at their expectations of him. For the life of him Jakub couldn't figure out why the boss had thought bringing him was a good idea. The Winslow Farm was an important waypoint for them—their reputations were at stake. They had plenty of hands for loading the barrels. But once Kasper had suggested their newest member tag along for the pickup, Cheshire hadn't been able to shut up about it, and here they were, denting cans to pass the time before nightfall.

"I don't see the point of this," said Cheshire, predictably.

"You're in the Kozlow Gang, now," said Barney as he reloaded the revolver. "You gotta at least be able to shoot."

"What for?"

"Because we're not a knitting club—take the gun."

Cheshire made another face, but he accepted the revolver. He immediately slipped his finger over the trigger, and Jakub frowned with the realization that he had probably never even held a gun before. Still, he watched closely as Cheshire braced his feet and lifted his arm. He'd been surprised before.

Cheshire fired. Then again. The third clipped the fence post. He heaved a sigh.

"Why does this matter?" he asked again, frustrated.

"Keep that gun pointed away," said Jakub, taking Cheshire's wrist. He pointed him back toward the cans. "Open both eyes. Focus." He reached around Cheshire to tug his other hand up as well. "Both hands."

"Only because you're asking so nicely," Cheshire teased, and Jakub felt his ears go hot again. "Anything else?"

Jakub backed off. "Aim."

Cheshire harrumphed, closing one eye and then opening it again as he took aim. "You're gonna warm up to me one of these days," he said, and he pulled the trigger.

Again, he completely missed. Standing off to the side with her arms crossed, Hannah snorted in amusement. The remaining two shots clipped the fence again but he still managed to not hit metal.

"Really, Bloom," Barney scolded.

Cheshire scowled again, letting the gun drop. Jakub knew what came next—the others didn't. Without a word of warning Cheshire aimed his palm at the offending can, and it exploded in a burst of fire.

Hannah and Barney jumped, lurching away from the blast. Jakub only shielded his eyes. Even twenty paces away he could feel the heat against his face, and his nostrils tickled with the familiar and unnatural tang of magic. It was undeniably impressive, though he wasn't surprised to see shock and fear in Barney's eyes. Barney had never been well prepared for real power let alone real violence.

Then the second can exploded, and even Jakub flinched. His heart thudded and before he could get a word out Cheshire destroyed each target one by one. But apparently that wasn't good enough, because once he reached the final can, the entire wooden post it had been resting on shattered with a roar like thunder. Even Cheshire joined his peers in ducking and swearing beneath a hail of charred woodchips. Jakub felt them patter against his scalp, but it was the odor of burning hair that sent his heart racing. He slapped and raked at his head until the heat began to dissipate. As he righted himself, the others were doing the same, and they all stared, slack jawed, as the fence crumpled around its missing beam.

"Fuck me," Barney hissed as he took his cap off, smacking it against his knee. "What the fuck was that?"

Jakub looked to Cheshire; he didn't know what he expected, knew even less what to make of the look of blank surprise he was met with. For a brief moment he thought he even saw fright. But then Cheshire lit up with a grin, proud and even beaming. He turned to Jakub with pure delight. "Did you see that?"

Jakub was speechless. He didn't get the chance to reply anyway, because it was then that Kasper and the rest of their crew emerged from the farmhouse.

"What in God's name is going on out here?" Kasper demanded. He marched straight over to Barney, looking ready to give him a beating. "The hell did you do to Winslow's fence?"

"It was him!" Barney pointed emphatically to Cheshire, whose expression had frozen halfway between excitement and dread. "He's some kind of fucking witch!"

Kasper's anger immediately changed; his eyes narrowed on Cheshire, suspicious but intrigued. Without giving Barney a second glance he turned to Jakub. "Is that true?" he asked.

Jakub started to answer, but Cheshire apparently couldn't contain himself any longer. "It was me!" he declared, but then he quickly sobered once he took note of the rest of the gang eyeing him warily, not to mention Hannah muttering curses at him as she used her fingers to comb debris out of her long hair. He even looked to Jakub; Jakub had no idea what kind of face he was making, but it didn't seem to be encouraging.

"It was me," Cheshire said again, his enthusiasm far more restrained but still inescapable. "Sir. Sorry, sir, we were...target practicing...?"

Kasper regarded him coldly for a long moment and then turned again to Jakub. "Well?"

"It was him," Jakub confirmed. "Like I said you before."

"I see." Kasper gave his beard a thoughtful stroke as he stepped back. "Then the four of you can fix it. There's wood in the barn. Have it up before the Fouchers get here."

"Sir."

Kasper turned back toward the farmhouse, but paused when he realized that everyone was still gawking at the fence. "Well, don't stand there," he said, gesturing impatiently. "Get to it—all of you." Only after they jarred to life did he continue back inside.