Page 23 of Two Who Live On

A room full of hands rose, and I contemplated calling on someone from Chanelle’s homeroom coven, along with a few other teachers. Last semester, I was so fixated on the void vision, I’d barely forged connections with my homeroom students, let alone any of the other students in my History classes. I couldn’t keep allowing myself toflounder that way, even if Milo’s mind whispered from afar, encouraging me to reach out…

“Is hefuckingblind?” Jamie snapped the fingers of his raised hand, drawing my attention.

He was a student in Chanelle’s homeroom, one who screamed a furious strategy above others in this classroom. Despite the rage, he remained decisive and brutal in the most unpalatable sense for the sake of cutting someone he didn’t know down through some arbitrary social politics he’d conceived.

I buried his practiced speech on recapping the lesson and tying it into a jab directed toward Tara. He was worse than Kenzo in that respect because Kenzo’s fury was directed as an aversion to his internal strife and suffering. As misguided as he was, he was young and willing to learn from it—he just needed a better teacher. Jamie, however, was fueled by calculated rage that bordered the creases of the classroom, ready to devastate anyone in his wake for the sheer thrill of the takedown. It was methodic, coated in spikes.

I squinted hard at Jamie, ignoring his rehearsed speech and well-timed cuts, and pushing his bubbling thoughts down to a low simmer. He ground his teeth and I frowned, letting my gaze pass him entirely.

“I hadmyhand upfirst.” Jamie lacked consistent fury; his anger remained erratic, wedged into his feelings, almost like he forced it. A fabrication for the show. But it wasn’t. These came from his inner surface thoughts so quickly he couldn’t rehearse them. There was something about his mind that was fractured, spiteful, and hateful. All the same, he was a fuckingheadache.

I couldn’t shield Tara or any of my students from every offhanded comment, but I could choose to ignore him and offer him no voice in this classroom. At least until I figured out where his hate stemmed. The Novaks were a powerful family, one likely affected by the rumblings and changes within guilds due to Whitlock Industries. Perhaps that was the source of Jamie’s envy which coiled around him like a serpent of snark and wit and venom, ready to strike.

“Tara.” I pointed.

She’d rarely contributed to class discussion despite having more knowledge and understanding of the industry than most of the staff here. There was an insecurity in raising awareness of her presence in front of an audience, something I believed she wished to work on since she’d raised her hand for the first time this semester. Okay, maybe that was my hope.

“Of course he called onher.” Jamie tsked.

“We talked about Sacramento v. Sirens and how before guilds were standard, demonic energy often led to fiends ascending,” Tara said, her eyes glancing toward Jamie’s sporadic clicks. “Their city was overrun, which bled into other parts of the state and resulted in the military responding.” Tara paused. Jamie’s eyes burrowed fervently, and his surface thoughts became pricklier and more profane. “And yes, the National Guard removed all the unwanted demonic presence but also left two-thirds of California under government guidance. Practicing permits were further restricted, casual casting misdemeanors were met with heavier penalties, and only those enlisted were deemed an adequate source of trained witches to handle these disruptions.”

“I’m sorry, but”—Jamie raised a hand, interrupting—“I thought you asked for a recap, not a repeat of the last lesson.”

“Jamie, please don’t interrupt others.”

“Sorry, Mr. Frost.” Jamie frowned, but it didn’t hide the smugglimmer of satisfaction in his eyes or thoughts. “Just feels like Tara doesn’t understand simple instructions.”

Tara clammed up, lowering her head and hiding behind her long blonde strands as a few students giggled at her expense.

“It’s ironic you decided to contribute to this lesson of all lessons.” Jamie locked his gaze on Tara. “You know, since the Whitlock’s love mixing guild and government so long as there’s a profit to be made.”

Jamie’s smile filled his whole face, and his trickling thoughts wandered about as he wondered which would be the deadliest and how many cutting comments he could contribute before being interrupted. Composing myself, I buried his envious hate and made sure he added nothing else.

“That’s enough, Jamie.” I cleared my throat, yet that alone didn’t deter the questionable entertainment. Students were engrossed with his follow-up. Fine. I cracked my neck and silenced their surface thoughts. “Please continue with your recap, Tara.” I glared at each snickering kid that remained hopeful to fit into whatever fucking bandwagon Jamie offered. “There are giddy individuals here that could use a repeat of our previous lesson. Perhaps even a repeat of the entire course sincemanyin here haven’t demonstrated a basic grasp on the history of magic, let alone guild industry standards of comprehension.”

All the side chatter settled as thoughts shifted to quiet paranoia.

“That’s really all I had to say.” Tara adjusted her Cast-8-Watch, the very one monitoring how little she’d improved or used her three branch magics. “Can’t even fucking talk right. Can’t do anything right.”

I shook away her ocean, turning my attention from the magics she struggled with. The same magics she didn’t realize how much improvement she’d made in. Small, gradual growth so subtle it appeared nonexistent. But I’d delved deep into the recesses of her mind and knew all too well where she’d begun. I’d watched her andfailed to help her first semester. Tara had improved, and I hoped to push that further second semester.

“Still struggling with your branches? Shocker,” Jamie whispered, which did little given the acoustics of the room, my well-trained ears after years of teaching, and, of course, the fact kids were terrible at truly whispering.

I furrowed my brow, having had enough of Jamie’s antics and liberal use of making my classroom his staging area to bully Tara.

“Well, they’re a hell of a lot more complex than your dishwasher magic,” Gael said, whooshing loudly to imitate the rush of water.

The class laughed at his well-timed joke, and Jamie sneered. King Clucks puffed his feathery chest, glaring back at the angry blond. I snapped my fingers to draw everyone’s attention back to the lesson.

“Guilds are important because they allow counties, cities, and states all the freedom to enforce and defend themselves without national oversight. This also creates more avenues for licensing. Guilds help professionals establish careers outside of the industry by reinforcing independent licensing programs.”

“Like what you do, Mr. Frosty,” Gael chimed in, truly proud of his contribution.

“Correct.” My response gave him enough satisfaction to leave out whatever offhanded comments bounced about his head. There were too many vague references and unfunny jokes to understand the mutterings of his mind. I continued, “If guilds and government didn’t remain separate, then most licensed witches would be forced to follow and serve a military pathway under government rule if they wished to practice their magics. It is by no means a perfect system, but industry witches have a freedom in the jobs they take and perform, whereas those enlisted only retain a license at the government’s discretion.”

After the brief lecture, I walked around the classroom, grouping students for the reading, and then went to my desk. No one appearedin need of immediate assistance or redirection. Usually, I’d use this time to catch up on grading before moving around the room to check in on their progress, but my mind wandered. So I channeled my telepathy, wanting to reach out for Milo. Nothing.

I took a deep breath, quelling my roots entirely and sending every ounce of magic toward my telepathy. A cacophony of clustered thoughts invaded the link of my exposed branch that grabbed every internal conversation. I ground my teeth, quickly silencing the academy. Whatever part of my magic honed in and pinpointed Milo across the city had vanished. More pieces of my branch I hadn’t fully mastered.

---