Page 53 of Two Who Live On

“Not happening, Yaritza,” Melanie shouted, flippingher zippo.

Flames engulfed every single student in an instant. A fiery abyss spread across the arena, reaching the stands. My heart jumped. The enchantments glowed yet didn’t ignite safety measures. I scrambled to my feet, amplifying my telepathy, concerned a warlock had struck again, and waited for ill-timed branch casting to cause harm. If the fire continued, someone would burn. The glow on the enchantments faded. A glitch?

All the flames tightened close to Melanie as she tied her fiery red hair in a ponytail and rocketed herself ahead, catching up to Yaritza faster than either of them expected. I dropped back into my uncomfortable metal seat, grabbing my chest and wishing I had time for a cigarette. But I had to see this unfold before stepping away. The enchantments didn’t trigger because Melanie’s casting was chaotic but controlled. Good job. A dozen other contestants utilized their branches to catch up with Yaritza and Melanie, all of them flashy and powerful, yet not one dared close in on Kenzo, who’d reached the fourth obstacle.

“Oh, ladies, you’re gonna make me show you how your magics really work, aren’t you?” Katherine adjusted the rims of her glasses, unconcerned by the countless students racing past her. She kept a steady grip on her grimoire and chanted several spells.

A true mastermind of casting proficiency. Katherine used Melanie’s fire branch to create a powerful flame to match in speed and Yaritza’s branch to strike, block, or shock those running beneath her. Most of all, she’d found a loophole to the root magic ruling. None of the enchantments triggered to disqualify her levitation ortelekinesis conjured, which steadied her flight and easily edged out Yaritza and Melanie. She hadn’t cheated. Those root magics were spells she’d written down and saved in her grimoire for a rainy day.

For witches possessing an enchantment branch, it only cost them a fraction of the necessary magic to harness a casting because the spell burned out quickly. Katherine didn’t concern herself with that. She flipped through the pages of her spell book, preparing another onslaught to supersede the next set of obstacles.

I gasped, stunned by Kenzo, who raced further ahead of everyone else. He hadn’t cast chaotically when striking at every other student he could possibly hit. Each of my—correction, each ofhis—homeroom coven classmates zipped through the obstacles unscathed. Not only that, but on closer examination, the witches he targeted were the most adept at fast travel, strength, or anything that’d highly benefit them during this round. Hexing so many targets simultaneously meant his disruption wouldn’t last very long, but this round was specifically designed to be short and sweet. Time was the enemy here, and those hit by Kenzo’s hex didn’t have the time to waste. They ran as best they could to keep up with the others.

“Fuck all of you,” Kenzo thought, burying concern or hope he held for those he refused to care about also crossing among the first eighty to move on to the next event.

My mind drifted to the others still crossing through the first obstacle. A simple mud crawl the right magic could leap above. It gave Caleb pause, though. Him and a dozen other contestants who came in their academy uniforms as instructed but didn’t own enough to ruin. Budgets over success cast a wide frame of doubt, and that delay would cost them. A cruel trick I wanted to warn Caleb and the others about. Showcases were meant to be spectacles, and Gemini prepared for any necessary compensations. This was an old tactic. One I’d almost forgotten about, meant to remind folks of their socialclass and who needed to make it to the finish line first. Sure, a few kids never hesitated, and that’d enrage the entitled, but it stopped more than enough for a few seconds or longer, which made all the difference in these types of challenges.

A part of me, a wholehearted part, wanted to link my mind to Caleb and warn him, inform him of the trick. I punched the metal bleacher, biting back a wince because I didn’t play favorites. Winning this event didn’t matter in the long run. I’d taken students who’d barely obtained their fledgling permits, never showcased, and still gotten them into good guilds. He didn’t need this win. He wanted it. I cracked my neck, breaking free from the aspirations of a kid I almost lost.

“If I can’t find a way to stop these demons that keep attacking, it won’t matter which guild has the most authority.” Milo’s mind echoed, calling me. “They’ll send in the National Guard, but it’ll be too late.”

NO.

I untethered my telepathy from Milo, his case, his fears, and my equal concerns. It was abundantly clear my help was not helpful. When staring at the problem, I only spotted the obstacle directly in front of me, like many of the students here and now, but Milo saw it for every potential outcome. Every miscalculation. Every seemingly insignificant step. I needed to respect he’d solve this on his own, and I needed to respect my students’ hard work during the Spring Showcase because this event meant something to every single student in my homeroom. It meant something to every student in each of my classes and those I’d never taught.

Layla’s roar drew everyone’s attention to her, baringher teeth and swiping at students who tried to pass her.

Fully transformed, she leapt through the obstacles with catlike dexterity and ferocious speed. Most contestants wavered near her, worried those huge talons would slash them apart. A brilliant strategy on her part.

It didn’t deter Gael one bit. He edged up beside her, darting at full speed and almost keeping pace with the gigantic humanoid cat form that had the muscular advantage. Without the ability to channel root magics, the rooster was forced to plod ahead to the best of his abilities, yet he kept pace and crushed the obstacles alongside his companion. Shockingly, a rooster could gain up to fifteen miles per hour, something Gael and his familiar repeated to each other—well, I assumed after hearing only Gael’s side of the conversation.

They didn’t let their poor ranking call into question their capability.

“I belong here,” Gael thought. “Yes. I earned it. Shut up! I earned it.”

Given his natural athleticism, he pushed himself closer to twenty miles per hour. The average student hit six to eight; those who’d trained their bodies got closer to twelve to fifteen. Gael easily outpaced them as he reached the fourth obstacle.

“No, your mother is a rotten egg best saved for Halloween.” Gael leapt across the stone blockades of the fourth obstacle. “I’m telling them you said they’re spoiled eggs when we get home.”

“Cl-cluck.” King Clucks flapped harder than usual. “Cl-cl-cluck.”

“That was not motivation. You’re beingmean because I won’t let you gamble with Carla anymore.” Gael turned back, glaring at his rooster familiar. “She’s a bad cow.”

Ugh. I slapped a hand over my forehead, quelling thoughts because only Gael would use this as a chance to work on whatever personal animal issues he had going on.

Taking a deep breath, I focused on students a bit behind.

A half dozen Jamius’ blocked others from swimming past him, each prepared to sacrifice their thirty-minute life cycle for him to win this entire event. All he wanted was for them to stop arguing over the best way to do it because their bickering held him back from summoning more clones. Each one expended a lot of magic, and he knew all too well how much he had to spare, which concerned him barely crossing the second obstacle with so many others ahead.

I lingered on the swimming obstacle, perhaps out of curiosity for my students who hadn’t finished it and perhaps out of guilt for one in particular. Carter swam through the third obstacle, unhindered thanks to his enhanced vitality.

It enhanced his muscle recovery every time he waned, desperate to yield, but his mind called to Jennifer several paces behind. He wanted to help her with a spark of magic, but every time the disqualification enchantments landed in his peripheral, he stopped himself from casting her assistance. Admittedly, I paused on these two longer than theothers, even Caleb.

Since saving me from the brink of death with MacGyver-styled casting, Carter had proven he wasn’t simply a goofy kid who loved the spotlight, but one who wanted to use that stardom to help others. Seriously, the kid needed his own show, and he needed to stop fixating on his classmates, something I’d failed to prepare him for in this competition. I could blame his magic, his thoughtful personality, but neither was true. It was the blood pouring out of me that haunted his every breath as he pushed himself ahead.

Jennifer didn’t need his assistance, though, and hopefully, he’d see that as soon as Gael brushed past him. Gael’s emerald-green hair shimmered in the water, a look he’d donned for luck during the Spring Showcase. Truthfully, he just wanted an excuse to dye his hair and what better than the academy event of the year. Carefully observing every single person around him, Gael stroked faster and harder than any other student, singing a song and motivating himself through the sheer belief he was more than his branch. Unlike every other student searching for ways their branch helped them, Gael wanted to ensure his branch didn’t hurt others because he loved every person he encountered—even the ones he didn’t like or understand.

Pure athletic determination and positivity pushed him further until he reached the fourth obstacle. And Jennifer, crafty and quiet as ever, kept close to Gael. She pushed every other mind out of her head, ignoring their pain, their desires, and fixated every ounce of her empathy on Gael. It motivated her faster than she believed her body could move because the adrenaline pumped harderthanks to her branch manipulating her mind.

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