Page 60 of Two Who Live On

Darcy Lowe

Derrick Lowe

Gael Rios-Vega was absurd and aloof but had a lot more talent than I gave him credit for. If he’d sit down and actuallydo some of his assignments, his ranking would be twice as high. And so long as this match didn’t turn into a battle of flight, him and his rooster would easily hold their own.

I was more concerned about Gael and his spikes. During the warlock incursion, he didn’t hold back at all, which was a fantastic sign, but whenever we trained during homeroom, he hesitated to use the full extent of his spiked projectiles. It frightened him that something he created could harm someone else. I quelled his anxiety and hoped he’d do the same thing after the five minutes of strategizing.

As for the other students selected, I didn’t have any of them in classes but knew their homerooms. Three of the four on the opposing team were made up of the seven students in Chanelle’s homeroom to make it into the semi-finals. Guess luck of the draw had worked against her. Or in her favor, if their team knew how to collaborate.

Gael strutted across the arena before the battle, eyeing another competitor who had a beaver floating next to her. Its tail flapped under the subtle telekinetic vibrations Tiffany cast. King Clucks glared at the levitating familiar that chomped on a twig.

“Nice ranking.” Gael wiggled his eyebrows, quite convinced he’d been the first person to ever make that comment. He wasn’t.

“Thanks. It’s a lot better than 108ing.” Tiffany pulled out a stick of beef jerky, gnawing on it the same way her familiar chomped on its twig.

Gael blushed, a bit embarrassed at his low ranking, but found himself eager to chatmore. “Are you two seriously eating before the competition?”

“What can I say?” Tiffany skipped away from her team, heels clicking against the stone tiles. “My beaver’s only happy when she’s got a bit of wood in her.”

“Seriously?” Gael snickered. “You’re just handing me jokes.”

“Huh?” Tiffany twirled a pigtail with a dim expression and clever thoughts, goading Gael further.

This wouldn’t end well for him or his rooster.

The buzzer sounded, and everyone sprang to action. The other two teamed with both Gaels lunged forward with primal magics, casting fire and ice across the arena. Gael searched for Tiffany, but she’d vanished behind the wall of ice. Then he spotted one of the other team members.

Gael’s mind zipped with possibly the most absurdly ridiculous and quite frankly offensive strategy he’d developed in five seconds.

“Hey, you. Handyman,” Gael shouted with his rooster perched on his shoulder.

“You trying to insult me?” Ryan cocked his head.

“Not at all, dude,” Gael said. “In fact, King Clucks and I were saying that with all those extra arms, you probably give amazing hugs.”

“I said that,” Gael muttered.

Gael raised a hand, dismissing Gael’s comment. “But you know what my buddy here said?”

Ryan paused.

“He said youprobably use all those hands to master your hand job business.”

Ryan roared, unleashing well over forty augmented limbs from his back, each varying in length and muscular build.

“Gael, that wasn’t the plan. Qué Cabrón.” Gael levitated to avoid the onslaught of augmented limbs stretching far and wide to capture him. “Qué chingados.”

“Sorry, dude.” Gael and his familiar raced off in search of Tiffany because the jokes were too good, and he couldn’t miss them.

“Ba-ba-bawk!” King Clucks flapped his wings as he leapt off Gael’s shoulder, screeching in unison with his human partner.

I sighed. These two would be the death of me.

Derrick Lowe shielded himself from his sister Darcy’s flames with a wall of water.

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