Chapter Twelve #2
“Not everyone can afford a casting club to train in,” Caleb interjected, preventing Jamie from segueing the topic to how this was all the Whitlock’s fault.
A speech Jamie had perfectly planned. Caleb didn’t know that but held disdain for Jamie all the same.
The cutting comments he’d made about Caleb, Tara, Katherine, Gael, Kenzo, and other students lingered in Caleb’s surface thoughts.
He refused to let this kid put the blame on the people of the South Side. This was his neighborhood .
“That’s all well and good, but casting clubs really are for a select group.” Jamie eyed Caleb. “The problem is, they don’t have the decency of cleaning up their own messes. That affects all of us, you know? I just worry about demons being unleashed.”
I shuddered at Jamie’s comment, reminded of Milo’s case, my mind aching to reach out to his.
“Root magics are incredibly difficult to master.” Caleb banished six wisps before Jamie could channel his magic.
“You’re right. Thankfully, you had the motivation to master your root magics because, well, you know.
” Jamie smiled, and Caleb fought back a frown at yet another reminder that his roots weren’t enough for this industry.
“I just think if they’re going to poorly cast their branches and can’t learn to sense and banish demonic energy, maybe they could complain less about handouts from us. ”
“From you, you mean.” Kenzo glared, burying the way it stung when Jamie directed his cutting comments at Caleb.
It tugged at his past, reminding him of all the time he’d spent with Caleb, how they played in these neighborhoods for years, and he wasn’t about to let someone like Jamie talk down about his home, even if he hated the emotions this place brought up when standing so close to Caleb.
He was, as always, a perplexing student.
“You talk too much. It’s annoying. I’ve lived in the South Side my entire life, and not once have I heard someone complain about the scraps academies offer because they need a write-off.
More often, it’s the disingenuous bullshit people spout when helping. ”
“I’m sorry, what’s your name a—”
“Frost,” Kenzo cut Jamie off, bored by every word Jamie said. “I’m scouting ahead unless you have some teacherly bullshit nonsense you call wisdom to add.”
Rolling my eyes, I waved him off. Kenzo, for once, was the least of my angry worries .
“Can I also scout ahead?” Caleb was antsy, eyeing me and his Cast-8-Watch. “Um, to help clear the neighborhood?”
“Of course.” I sent him ahead.
“I’ve actually got an amazing combination spell.” Katherine held up her grimoire. “It might not be ready today or ever but would massively improve demonic regression, which, as you know—”
“Go.” I held up a hand, unable to comprehend half the words buzzing in Katherine’s surface thoughts. “Have fun helping.”
“ YES! ” Katherine soared away.
I clenched my jaw, biting back her bursting excitement.
“Well, looks like it’s just us.” Jamie stepped closer to Tara.
Dammit. Jamie didn’t ease the tension in my tight jaw.
“Don’t forget me.” Gael brushed between Tara and Jamie, careful not to hit either with his spikes, yet those along his shoulder next to Jamie bulged, jutting out, forcing Jamie to backstep. “Oops. Sorry. Some of us aren’t as amazingly skilled with their branches as you.”
Gael’s sharklike teeth beamed, genuine and sincere, but his thoughts held a few profane Spanish words which I recognized.
This might be the first time I’d seen Gael angry, faking a smile for the sake of choosing joy over anger but refusing to let his kindness allow someone he considered a friend to be bullied.
It was sweet and depressing.
I should be doing more in this moment. Instead, I put out a few fires and kept a watchful eye on Jamie’s carefully worded bullying, unable to act without actual evidence of wrongdoing, which would still be questioned.
I sent my students around, tracking wisps clustering between alleyways and in the crevices of bridges while monitoring them.
It was relatively easy to keep up with the casual casting of Tara and Gael.
She held back her roots, perhaps lost in thought, and Gael favored teamwork over showboating.
In the distance, Kenzo and Caleb proved harder to keep up with.
Each competitively sought out wisps. I floated away from Tara and Gael, noticing Jamie had left for an easier quarry, and I tracked Kenzo and Caleb.
They shouted their count unnecessarily as their Cast-8-Watch tracked proper banishments while monitoring the frequencies of their other used roots or branch magics.
Aggression from each of them drew me down the street.
Caleb and Kenzo competed purely against each other, desperately proving they were the best in the class.
Not our homeroom coven, but the first-year class.
Since holding his weight during the warlock incursion, Caleb’s faith in his roots had blossomed tenfold.
I was grateful he didn’t hesitate anymore.
He’d tasted real combat, strategized, and succeeded.
More than anything, he’d survived. However, I worried once the reality of the industry proved hard work didn’t always pay off, his plummet would be devastating.
“Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four.” Caleb struck wisp after wisp, conserving his other roots and running from one block to the next, sweat drenching his academy uniform.
The Cast-8-Watch easily tracked their numbers of banishments, magic allotted, and percentile of success, along with ratios of magic utilized versus wasted in casting.
Truly state-of-the-art tech. But Caleb knew that.
When shouting his numbers, he’d hoped to unnerve Kenzo because he’d also kept a mental track of how many his former friend had banished.
For the first time since Kenzo came to Gemini Academy, I think this was the closest he’d come to second place.
The pair banished nearly all the wisps in a six-block radius—skirting the edges on where we were allowed to volunteer—and were neck and neck on numbers.
Four wisps bounced along the pavement, inching toward the street corner where I’d instructed them not to pass.
Caleb, having conserved his other roots up until this point, sprang off the ground and flew next to Kenzo, ready to banish the wisps and win this little match of theirs.
I rolled my eyes. Children . Katherine lingered in my peripheral.
Was that her thought seeping in or mine?
“Not bad, branchless blunder.” Kenzo smirked, and gray static popped around his fingertips and coursed subtly along Caleb’s torso.
Caleb winced, clutching his abdomen, and plummeted toward the pavement. I quickly shifted my telekinesis and caught him before the crash.
Kenzo banished the last of the wisps. “Ha, I won. Unsurprising.”
“You cheated.” Caleb knelt on the pavement after I lightly released him.
“I didn’t cheat. You simply lack any skill sets, branchless. That’s your problem. You expect everyone to play at your level, your capability. The rest of us shouldn’t have to limit our greatness simply because you don’t have any.”
Caleb slammed a fist against the pavement, cracking the ground.
“Oh, a tantrum. How mature,” Kenzo gloated.
“Stop.” I hovered closer.
“I know it won’t happen”—Kenzo scoffed at Caleb—“but I hope you manage to weasel your way into the Spring Showcase.”
Caleb scowled.
“That way, I can personally show you why you don’t belong here. You do one thing right and think your dreams m—”
“That’s enough, Kenzo,” I snapped.
My mind was too broken or stilted or selfishly fixated on my own problems; I couldn’t offer anything here.
“Whatever.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and strolled away, skipping with levitation to continue practicing his own casting. “There’s no demonic energy here anyway.”
“Are you okay?” I knelt next to Caleb.
His eyes watered, staring at the cracked pavement, which he’d broken in anger and had no way of fixing.
But that wasn’t why he teared up. I held my breath, hoping it’d wane my telepathy.
Caleb believed last semester mattered. Believed it had built a bridge between him and Kenzo.
More than anything, he wanted to relive so much before it disappeared.
Distantly, Kenzo’s voice echoed the same, wanting to acknowledge Caleb, wanting to bury his rage, but he couldn’t.
He moved forward, unwilling to sacrifice his goals for someone else.
Using telekinesis, I pulled the cracked concrete closer together.
I couldn’t fix it. Not fully. It wasn’t a real fix.
I wasn’t certain even a witch with perfected telekinesis could undo that damage.
This took either a patch job or specialized magic.
Little things like this couldn’t be repaired with root magics, and I certainly didn’t possess a branch that’d benefit healing the sidewalk.
Caleb stared at the crack, guilty and upset.
Not only had he failed to keep up with Kenzo yet again, but he lacked the ability to repair what he’d broken.
This broken pavement represented the tiny fractures inside Caleb, threatening to burst and collapse if he continued to fail.
Threatening to continue further fracturing his broken friendship.
“Caleb, I think—”
“I’m going to find Katherine. She has my…” He swallowed hard, eyes welling up. “She’s got my notes. I need those.”
“Of course.”
“ Weak. Useless. Pathetic. ” Caleb hovered ahead, faltering because the constant practice with the weighted blocks ached his muscles.
At the edge of the block, Kenzo lingered.
“ Don’t give up like that. You’ve got more to— ” Gray static pulsed through Kenzo’s entire body, internally and externally. It did nothing to silence his thoughts, but I quelled them myself. He’d improved the effectiveness of his branch so precisely. Simply amazing .
There was so much broken between Kenzo and Caleb that I didn’t know where to begin. I was the worst person to fix these two—if they needed fixing. Milo would know. Chanelle too. Bet she didn’t endure this pain and struggle when dragging students out for this outreach program.
I sat alone, fixing the pavement while my students continued doing their best to improve their branches, roots, assistance, and every broken flaw I’d overlooked.
Did I really care? I couldn’t decide, fixated on the link developing between Milo and me. Dreams, hopes, and desires sprang forward. I doubted my intent. Was it mine?