Page 14 of Two Who Live On

The best part of flying high came from the strain it put on my telepathy. Channeling my levitation and telekinesis root magics in tandem coupled with moving too fast to linger on passing minds. I soared with the rising sun at my back well above the highest buildings. A white sparkle flickered ahead. A small growing cluster of wisps tearing their way into our reality, and left unattended, they’d form into fiends. I maneuvered an arm, directing it to banish the wisps, but kept the other fixed on flight. The wisps burst into a glimmer of dust and I flew on.

“Info was right. He takes this route.”

I twisted my body so I could scan for the voice without sending myself spiraling in a completely different trajectory. Not something I usually worried about when flying but damn was I tired. Flying to a destination wasn’t an uncommon practice for those licensed, but I’d picked this route for three reasons: a quick way to work, enough wisps to practice my banishment and sensory without becoming overwhelmed, and fewer people. A small blip of a person grew as they flew closer, camera in hand, and thoughts all fixated on “Enchanter Evergreen’s new boyfriend.”

Scowling, I spun away before he could snap a shot of what he considered quite possibly the scariest expression and then nosedived until I reached the crowded city block. I whipped above people, slowing my descent until I reached the platform of a stopping train. I shoved my way into the car interior, cramming myself between people and grabbed a handrail. This wouldn’t get me to work, but I could switch at the station or attempt a second flight without the press. The bustle of thoughts hitting me in waves made my skull pound. Thankfully, it appeared no one on the car knew or cared who I was.

Christ. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

When I arrived at Gemini Academy, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I ignored the vibration against my thigh. I rushed through the crowd of incoming students, well behind my preferred schedule, but the flurry of curious minds didn’t make it easy to navigate the blurring hallway.

“There he is!” Peterson thought, standing at my door with a clipboard pressed against his chest. His eager mind was so loud it made my homeroom coven’s surface thoughts faint by comparison. I rolled my eyes. Half of my students had arrived before I did and waited in the hallway next to Peterson. He’d come with favors torequest dancing along the surface of his mind yet couldn’t be bothered to open the door for my students.

“You’re late.” Kenzo glared.

“I’m not late,” I said, unlocking the door for my students. I simply wasn’t early, so by comparison, I was late for me, but not actually late.

“Whatever.” Kenzo stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked in after the others shuffled inside. “Better not make it a habit. Punctuality is the only thing he’s got going for him.”

Ouch.Ignoring Kenzo, I reached for my thermos of coffee. I needed the caffeine and something to avoid responding to Peterson’s incoming question. And of course, I’d forgotten to grab my coffee.

“Good morning, Mr. Frost.” Peterson etched his way into the doorframe like he was ready to bodycheck me if I brushed past him. “I was hoping to have a word with you.”

“I’m running a bit behind. Maybe later.”

“It’ll only take a moment, and I don’t need a response this minute. I want you to think it over. Well, actually, I was hoping you could run it up the ole flagpole—not that flagpole.” Peterson chuckled loudly, practically ready to nudge me to join in. He truly thought I’d enjoy the innuendo since, in his mind, we bantered quite frequently. We didn’t. I simply overlooked or ignored his comments because he bored me to death. “Maybe you can get back to me when—”

“No.” I kept my influxes indifferent and my frown more bland than irritated.

Peterson stared with bewilderment. “I haven’t even asked.”

“You were wondering if I could ask Enchanter Evergreen to come as a guest speaker for your homeroom.”

“Of course, telepath. You’re truly gifted, Mr. Frost. I bet you pick up on every little thought.”

“Fewer than you think.”

“Fascinating. Must be so fun getting that insight. About my request. Look, I just think it’s something he’d be interested—”

“No.”

“You haven’t even let me ask.” Peterson’s face turned red, and his thoughts slipped in and out of half-formed profanities he quickly hummed away, paranoid it’d hurt his chances of convincing me to do something I had zero intent of doing. “I’ve got a proposal with different lessons Enchanter Evergreen could come by and discuss.”

Peterson flipped through his clipboard, handing me things Milo would never do. Whenever we coaxed guild enchanters into coming to campus, we often did so in alignment to particular standards and professional practices they could offer. The great Enchanter Evergreen didn’t do that. He improvised at every opportunity he had. Perhaps it was because he spent so much time rehearsing for potential visions to futures he attempted to keep on track.

“This all looks detailed.” I clutched the papers Peterson handed me, keeping my gaze locked onto his, and he was so intent on nodding in agreement, he didn’t register I hadn’t looked at the forms. “You know who would love to see this? The administrator in charge of coordinating schedules with guest speakers who visit.”

Although, admin had found a way to pawn that role onto Chanelle since she’d taken on her new liaison position. She might attempt to reach out to Milo with the paperwork. He’d say no in either case, but I wouldn’t pretend to pass on Peterson’s request.

“Here.” I handed back the papers.

“Hold onto them. Maybe pass them along.” Peterson smiled.

He knew as well as I did that this would make for a quicker and better possibility of having Enchanter Evergreen drop by. After all, when an academy inquired, they reached out to the guild itself, and they passed on the request to their enchanters when it suited whatever schedule they worked with. It was a tedious process, which was whyI’d never personally relied on guest speakers unless they were new in the industry and clamoring for attention to build their names and brand. It was hard enough wrangling quality enchanters for internships.

But this wasn’t about Peterson’s students. If it were, I might’ve considered it. Nope. This was a way he planned on making himself look better.

“I’ve given you my answer. Twice, in fact.” I dropped the papers Peterson refused to take back.

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