Page 70 of Zero Happily Ever Afters

The distraction pulled me to my senses, helping to ground me here during the showcase. Yaritza and Jamius scolded Gael because he’d forgotten to send in the paperwork to update their coven’s name. Gael feigned innocence while grimacing, but truthfully, Yaritza and Jamius shouldn’t have relied solely on the jester of their group to finalize the filing. Then again, despite the absurdity of the name, several acolytes in attendance already had Ben Dover’s Coven members memorized, and the preliminary opening ceremony hadn’t even finished.

Damn. Gael was always craftier than I gave credit to.

“I’m certain everyone is ecstatic about the rules behind the preliminary round!” Chanelle strutted across the stage, enthusiastically working the audience back to excitement after Headmaster Dower’s drool commencement ceremony had finally wrapped up. “Obviously, all the students can’t compete at once.” Chanelle paused for the theatricality that she loved so much. “Well, they could, but we don’t want you missing a single second of our students and their outstanding casting. We’ll be dividing the preliminary round into divisions based on covens and rankings.”

This was Chanelle’s way of leveling the playing field. Somewhat. It also meant half of the highest ranked students wouldn’t make it past the first round. While I worried about how many of my homeroom coven kids would end up eliminated, I admired Chanelle’s strategy. In her own small way, she wanted to flip off the industry ranking policy, offer the less combative an opportunity to shine, and open a few doors for the underdog.

I scrunched my face into an angry frown. She could’ve had this epiphany last year when I expressed how the system fucked over kids. Whatever. Better late than never. Plus, Chanelle was better at playing the long con than I was when it came to getting what she wanted in the world of education.

“The preliminaries will focus on collaboration, coordination, and conquering your fears!” Chanelle gestured to the covered tanks lining the edges of the arena floor.

As staff proctors like myself telekinetically removed the curtains draped over the glass tanks and revealed the fiends sealed inside, everyone reacted with terror and excitement—students who lined the outer perimeter of the arena, the audience, and even a few staff who didn’t realize how big some of the fiends would be. The mixed bag of powerful emotions made it difficult to stay composed, so I focused on Chanelle.

“Competing covens will be expected to eliminate fiends,” Chanelle explained, studying the audience as she buried her disappointment. “Look at this turnout. All those invitations, calls, conversations, sweet talking…and for what? They all bailed. I should’ve saved the fiends for when the enchanters showed. What’d I do? Where’d I go wrong?”

She hadn’t done anything wrong. Milo had simply diverted a lot of those meant to attend by wrangling together enchanters from every guild in the city. Well, he’d made certain Guild Master Campbell navigated those negotiations. The point was those absent enchanters were protecting our city, ensuring the MDC remained locked down and secure, safeguarding against Theodore Whitlock’s escape.

I shivered. Running a hand against my scar, I buried the memory of Theodore’s assault. It wouldn’t affect today. Milo planned for the four pillars of the Celestial Coven. Milo gathered Global Guild forces, strategically placing them where they werebest suited, and kept the alliance of Chicago’s guilds strong so they could attack with a unified front.

Ignoring my own concerns, I stared out at the audience. Honestly, despite Chanelle’s disappointment, the turnout had been pretty impressive for a preliminary round. The arena seating was completely filled to max capacity. Sure, half of the attendance came down to staff and students dragged from their classrooms or parents who took the day off to see their kid’s performance. But there was a big turnout of acolytes in the audience, too. Guessing Milo didn’t want many of them walking into the MDC. Not with threats as big as the Celestial Coven…

I clenched my jaw.

No.I needed to stop obsessing. Aside from the fact that half of me was literally already obsessing on my behalf. An extended manifestation of my form currently watched everything unfold. If something dreadful occurred, if things took a turn for the worst, my other half would reconnect with me as a warning.

The entire auxiliary gym rumbled. Enchantments placed along every wall glowed, activating, then went silent with a frightening hiss. The hue of magic turned a sour puke green, and every intricately woven protection carved into the lining of the academy remained nothing more than uselessly written text scrawled on the walls.

Bright blue lights filled the arena stage, rippling portal doorways opening and closing everywhere.

A rapid flurry of explosions hit the arena flooring.

Smoke raged.

What’s happening?

My manifestation lunged through the smoke, intent on bombarding me with everything he’d witnessed in the week since I’d divided my thoughts. Here and now. No. I couldn’t.

“He’s here.” My other half had this terror-stricken face.

Our expressions stared back at each other like mirrors reflecting in an infinite loop, my expression frazzled and my manifestation’s frantic.

I looked past my manifestation to the clearing smoke, seeing the worst person in the world.

Triumph oozed off him, and delightful destructive desires danced delicately at the edges of his surface thoughts where he had already composed countless scenarios of how he’d eviscerate every single person at Gemini Academy.

The students. The staff. The audience. The few guild professionals.

Here, Theodore Whitlock stood, surrounded by demonic energy, raging minds from inmates hidden beneath the dying smoke, but how’d he get here? Where were the Global Guild witches? What happened to Milo?

My manifestation reached out, ready to fill in the missing pieces, and I readily accepted the answers.

Chapter Twenty-One

My manifestation leapt through the chaos, barreling toward me. Each moment created a kaleidoscope of dual sensations. When my other half connected, the two halves of my being surged with memories. I could spend hours sifting through these flashes, but only fractions of seconds passed outside my mind.

The results of Milo’s plan unfolded before me. Enchanter Diaz and Priscilla versus The Sisters Three, the divine psychics. Gladiatrix versus every single inmate, then against Grim, the living, breathing body of bones. Enchanter Wadsworth and the Global Guild reinforcements versus Lazarus, the rejuvenating witch who killed with a deadly touch. And then Amara, The True Witch, reunited with her bone staff, a weapon she used to drop everyone who opposed her.

Not Milo, though. Not yet. Images splashed in swift succession of Milo reacting to Theodore’s release, scanning those in the solitary confinement ward, assessing all the magic at play, and creating new plans with the possibilities that remained.

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