Chapter Twelve
I stood outside the academy bus heading for the South Side, wishing I had time for a cigarette.
Instead of slipping away for a few minutes, I wiggled the pen for my clipboard with a roster between my index and middle finger.
It didn’t help settle the cravings. Thankfully, Chanelle had already arranged for the bus and the driver since she figured I’d forget to fill out the forms. I had.
It wasn’t my volunteer program, and I had a lot on my plate. Also, I was pretty lazy.
Students arrived, gave me their names and filed onto the bus.
A lot of the second- and third-year students were kids I’d taught.
A few of my former third-year homeroom coven students averted their gaze.
We hadn’t spoken really at all this year since they were thrown to the industry wolves without a lifejacket, and I spent the bulk of last semester prioritizing the void vision.
They probably all assumed I didn’t care about them or their struggles .
Chester paused before getting on, wry smile and humming a pleasant country song in his head, a technique he’d learned after a few years as my student.
“Hey, Mr. Frost,” he said with a strong southern drawl. “I was wondering if you’d had a chance to reconsider that internship recommendation.”
I blinked at him, tilting my head and staring at the growing line of students.
“It’s like Kraken Guild is great and all, and I thought it’d be everything I wanted.” He sighed, singing louder in his head. “It’s just I didn’t realize how truly compatible with certain enchanters at Cerberus Guild I’d be. I thought—”
“No,” I said, having already told him no the last time he stopped by my classroom to ‘just say hello’ and conveniently switched the topic to how ‘perhaps maybe by chance I could possibly’ put in a good word for him to Enchanter Evergreen since he believed his magic would be more compatible with Enchanter Zion’s at Cerberus.
Zion had an amazing alteration branch and was quite skillful, but he wasn’t the best instructor, which was why after studying countless student interns he had who’d flounder and fail, I refused to send any of mine.
“Just maybe try listening and hear out my reasoning on why this would probably definitely be a good—”
“No.” I glared. “Get on the bus, Chester. You’re holding up the line and boring me.”
“ Well, fuck you, too, you angry raccoon-eyed jackass. ” Chester stormed onto the bus.
I huffed, biting back a chuckle. A few of my current homeroom coven students arrived together. Tara, Caleb, Katherine, Gael, and Kenzo. Though, Kenzo kept distancing himself until a smiley Gael nudged him back in line, carefully given his spikes .
Caleb stood close to Katherine, floating weighted blocks as they discussed something surprisingly not from her grimoire but a textbook from one of their classes.
Caleb had taken our conversation to heart, but it didn’t weigh him down.
He knew the odds were stacked against him, yet he’d planned to do everything in his power and outside of it to increase his chances at success, including over-studying for a test. It all started by getting into the Spring Showcase, which he believed every extracurricular and successful academic score would improve.
They would, but it was unlikely they’d outweigh the most important factor—his branchless status.
“Where’s Gael and K…the rooster?” I asked, noticing them missing from my otherwise full roster.
“He said he had a side hustle to handle.” Caleb shrugged, filing in line behind Tara.
“Code for something perverted.” Katherine giggled.
“His moms are making him work at the restaurant after school.” Tara stepped onto the bus, the weighted blocks in her hands and a small smile on her face. “ King Clucks ordered a bunch of stuff online, or so Gael swears, but I bet… ”
“Good.” Kenzo brushed past Caleb to get on the bus before him. “He’s fucking annoying.”
I ground my teeth, possibly channeling Caleb’s frustration, but also—Kenzo had a knack for inciting irritation.
Gael giggled, letting Caleb and Katherine go ahead, and looked at Kenzo. “Are you still pissy because of what King Clucks said about—”
“No,” Kenzo snapped at Gael. “I don’t care about a damn thing that chicken sandwich says.”
I snorted, quickly covering it with a cough, uncertain which elicited more humor. The idea of King Clucks mocking Kenzo or Kenzo calling him a chicken sandwich or, most likely, the fact that neither Gael, Caleb, or Katherine could hide their laughter, and that joy easily synced to me.
After collecting myself and getting all the students on the bus, we drove to the South Side.
On the bus sat six annoyed third-year students who’d rather attend whatever party buzzed in their heads.
Instead, they’d been roped into assistant chaperoning this program once a week.
Twelve second-year students and twenty-two first-year students each boomed eagerly.
Most were thrilled when they discovered the Wisp Prevention Program could greatly affect their ranking in the Spring Showcase, something first- and second-year students wanted to make a solid impression on.
Chanelle was worse than Milo with words.
She didn’t lie—it could potentially help them make the cut, but only in the most basic sense of training their magics which registered on their Cast-8-Watches; however, when selling the program, she didn’t lead with that factor.
Truthfully, this might confine their training depending on the areas they needed to prioritize.
Speaking of confined casting, I grabbed the long-winded speech of dos and don’ts Chanelle had prepared for the outing.
“A friendly reminder.” I stood, jostling a bit from the rocking bus.
“While this volunteering program allows each of you to train your magics and finetune your expertise, it is not an excuse to cast carelessly and damage property. Your fledgling permit grants you clearance to cast but doesn’t exempt you from fines. ”
Immediate sighs, followed by “ again? ” bustling in minds. Apparently, this was a staple discussion of rules they’d heard over and over again. Good, then it wouldn’t hurt if I summarized the three pages of directions because fuck if I was going to read the entire script.
The bus reached our stop, and the students shuffled out. I assigned the third-year students groups to monitor and stuck with my own homeroom kids. It might have been cruel or lazy, but Milo’s thoughts tugged at me, and having familiar minds close would keep me from linking to him and losing focus.
“There are a lot of wisps here,” Tara said, hesitant to train with the weighted blocks when she needed to prioritize her roots for removing the threats.
All cast magic populated the atmosphere with trace amounts of residual energy. It was this energy that drew demons to shatter the veil separating our realities and led to wisps breaking through and feeding off any magic they could find.
“It’s difficult for citizens here to afford to hire guilds to clean up demonic energy problems,” I explained, leaving out a few of the unpleasant aspects. “Removing them requires skill in banishment and a license.”
Things people here didn’t have. Skill perhaps, but risking fines by casting illegally came at a high price.
Literally, fines, penalties—worse if it was a repeated offense.
Since guilds typically didn’t get involved unless actual fiends appeared, wisps became a nuisance.
Those who couldn’t afford guild intervention either suffered constant demonic disruptions or had to wait for the city to get involved, which caused higher property taxes for securing the space.
By securing, it meant the city outsourced to guilds who overpriced their public service, and in turn, the city gouged residents unfortunate enough to be too poor to hire help or practice legally.
It was a fucked system.
And while Enchanter Evergreen did his fair share of community outreach programs, there was a certain balancing act he maintained to appear objective and remain in high demand to the elites who funded his freebie cases.
No one was allowed to do anything charitable without considering every single political, social, and financial angle.
Why was he in my head? I cracked my neck, quelling his distant thoughts and remaining here and attentive .
Tara had only recently joined the Wisp Prevention Program due to Gael and King Clucks’ constant pestering, and now they’d abandoned her. Tara tucked her support tools away and instantly banished a small cluster hovering at a streetlamp.
I joined in her efforts to clear the glowing wisps.
“It’s really a shame, these poor people,” Jamie said, strolling close to Tara.
“I assigned you to Chester’s group,” I said.
“Sorry, I’d just feel more comfortable with a proper instructor. I’d hate to make a mistake under the guidance of peers.” Jamie feigned a weak smile and eyed Tara. “ Besides, my chaperone clearly sucks . Must be the shitty instruction he’s gotten over the years. ”
I scowled.
“Sorry. My mind isn’t my own sometimes.” Jamie blushed, actually faking embarrassment.
“Uh-huh. Let’s go.” I led them down the street.
Jamie kept close, which I’d say I preferred because I didn’t trust him, but his thoughts bubbled with nefarious comments.
“This place really is flooded with demonic energy.” Jamie banished a cluster of wisps outside a convenience store, warily eyeing those standing at the entrance smoking. “Probably wouldn’t be so bad if people didn’t cast illegally so much. But—”