Luka sat on a bench in front of the wall that circled the Academy. It was fifteen minutes past twelve, and the gates were right next to him, but he wasn't going in. He was annoyed with himself, because despite his best efforts, he had still arrived on time. A disposable coffee cup sat on the bench next to him, containing the remains of a chocolate espresso, the drink he only ordered when he felt sorry for himself. He knew he was being childish, and that maybe, just maybe, he should have decided to act like a professional. On the other hand, he had given up all pretense of appearing professional, when he had chosen to swap his usual slacks and button-down for a pair of worn jeans and a t-shirt depicting a group of communists in party hats. He didn't even remember where the shirt came from, only that it had been given to him as a joke, and he had yet to decide whether or not he was offended.

He lifted a cigarette to his lips and inhaled smoke.

If he closed his eyes and focused, he could feel the currents of magic around him, although they were vague. The Academy at his back was a distraction, numbing the magic in the air. It should have been extremely interested in the Academy, clinging to it like moths to light, but the Academy was warded. They couldn't constantly worry about the untethered magic of the city wrecking havoc around campus.

What that all meant was that the magic of the city politely pretended like the Academy wasn't there, and that Luka's senses felt off whenever he got near those walls. He couldn't feel the details, there were no scents that didn't quite belong, no lights without a logical source, no urgency of rush hour to set his pulse racing. All he felt was the oppressive wave of Academy wards at his back.

Despite the wards, he felt the movement as much as he heard it, when the gate opened. He reached for his coffee, and finished it off.

"You weren't supposed to come looking for me," he told Hadley, without taking his eyes off the moving city.

"I didn't think you needed an escort to get through the gates," Hadley said.

“I was waiting for the cuffs." It was mostly a joke. Really, he had just wanted to make him wait, but it hadn’t escaped his notice, that nothing in his contract protected him from getting arrested, and how much freedom of movement did he really need to solve the case?

Hadley only sighed. "Don’t be paranoid," he said. "Come on."

Luka threw the cup in the trash, before walking past Hadley and through the gates. Hadley's eyes lingered on the cigarette, and Luka noted his disapproval, but if he was going to get through this meeting, he was going to need to finish it.

"Are we going to talk about last night at all?" Hadley asked.

"Last night?" Luka focused on smoking, and kept his face neutral. Once the morning had sobered him up, he put all his faith in it being an unusually vivid dream. Of course he shouldn't be so lucky.

"Yes," Hadley said. "When you appeared by my apartment at three in the morning."

Luka shrugged. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

And that was that. Hadley sighed, but didn't say anything else. He hadn't wanted to talk about it either. It was far more likely that he just wanted to remind Luka that he had gotten drunk and stupid, as if he wasn't aware. He hadn't even been that drunk.

They walked in silence across the courtyard, and Luka sidestepped the crest inlaid in the tiles. Its vibrant colors fundamentally offended him, and even the motto underneath — "concordia" — was a fucking joke. By all rights, the thing should have been spattered in blood, and the motto should have been "pro se quisque". The only thing they had possibly gotten right, was the dragon perched on top, although it could have looked more intimidating. He could imagine Hadley rolling his eyes at him, but he was no longer paying him any attention.

It wasn't wholly unexpected, but still startling, how much the Collingwood Academy looked exactly the same. It still looked like some sort of gothic nightmare, with everything washed out in tones of gray, and dark green ivy crawling up the walls. The only thing missing from the picture was an ever present fog rolling in from between the buildings. The steel and glass tower still marked the entrance to the administrative buildings, and Luka still wanted to know how it would feel to make all that glass shatter.

At the back of his head, the wards were starting to give him a headache, and on top of it all, his cigarette was burning out too quickly. He had always been aware of the effect the wards had. Closing off the flow of magic was like closing off the flow of air, and being left with a heavy humidity that settled in his lungs and made it hard to breathe. It was an adjustment, and the feeling would eventually fade, but after nearly ten years away, it was stronger than ever. Even on the short walk from the gate to the glass tower, he felt the need to pause and catch his breath. Instead, he forced himself to breathe normally, to remind himself that he could breathe here just fine.

The feeling existed mostly in his head, but that didn't stop the pounding behind his skull from increasing, and by the time they entered the glass tower, he was practically seeing spots. The sunlight filtered through the colored glass, and cast kaleidoscopic colors on the floor, which didn't help.

"Wait," he told Hadley, once he stumbled, and had to catch himself on one of the steel bars running along the structure.

"Stop stall—" Hadley stopped, and Luka assumed that meant he had turned to watch him. His own eyes were closed, and his fingers pressed into his forehead, even though that made absolutely no difference.

"Are you okay?" It was a stupid question, and Luka didn't answer.

"Lavrin," Hadley said, more impatient than concerned. Luka didn't want to answer that either, but apparently he wasn't going to stop.

"The wards," he murmured. "I'll be okay in a minute."

It didn't bother new mages, because they really didn't have enough magic at the beginning of their education for this to be an issue. It didn't bother mages who were in and out of the Academy every day, but apparently coming back after so long was like starving your magic of the connection it had gotten so used to, and because magic was essentially a punishing entity, it fucking hurt. See, the thing about magic, at least in Luka's experience, was that it was a bit like a parasite. Most of the time, this parasite was great, because it allowed you to do magic. Only, once in a while you were bound to do something the parasite didn't like, and an angry parasite was a vengeful parasite. He hated the indignity of sliding to the floor, but he couldn't stay upright.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"The wards aren't harmful."

"Great," Luka muttered. "That's very helpful. Thanks. I feel much better now."

"No," Hadley said. "What I'm saying is that it can't be the wards. It must be something else." Luka could feel his presence as he knelt down close to him. "Maybe I should take you to the hospital."

"Don't fucking touch me," Luka growled. He honestly didn't know how long it would take to adjust. He was absolutely sure it was the wards doing this, but he was guessing about the rest.

"Can't you...?" Hadley asked, letting the question hang unfinished between them. Probably because he knew how insulting it was. Luka knew exactly what he was asking, because Luka was a Healer, and as a Healer, he never had to be in pain, right?

"You know I can't heal asshole magic." Asshole magic: When magic is the thing hurting you, and you can't use magic to counteract it. See also: Whatever was killing students. Since they needed Luka, it couldn't be healed away. Except he was already 90% sure it was a spell causing that, and spells could actually be counteracted with magic, which... gave him an idea. If only he could think. He shook his head, which caused a new wave of pain to shoot through his skull.

"Fuck."

He needed his magic to adjust, which meant that he needed to make it think the absence of untethered magic was natural, at least for a little while. He formed the spell through the fog in his mind, and hoped he wasn't screwing something up, and whispered it out loud. The pressure faded, a bit, enough to allow him to function at least.

"Fuck," he repeated, while tentatively opening his eyes. The colors still confused his vision, but at least there were no spots.

He rose slowly off the floor. Hadley was hovering near him. His arms were crossed, but his expression was briefly concerned.

"What did you do?" Hadley asked, and Luka knew it was more how dare you use a spell? and less are you okay now?, but he didn't really care.

"I fixed it," he said. "Sort of. Temporarily. Let's get this over with."

He walked into the dim hallway beyond the glass tower and all its colors, and started up the stairs.

Inside Hadley's office, he found a mirror of what he had seen in his apartment. The place was soulless. Hadley was a highly organized person, but he had always been comfortable with clutter. It used to drive Luka crazy, back when they were roommates. He looked at this room now, with everything in its proper place and perfectly lined up. Even the desk was tidy. There wasn't a single item in the room, that didn't actually need to be there. Except, of course, for his future apprentice. Two chairs were positioned in front of the desk, and she had settled into the left one. She looked back when they entered, and then rose from the chair. One of the things he had wanted to do before this meeting, was to be prepared for this part. He had narrowed down the candidates, and Alice Malik stood in front of him, as expected. Her complexion, features, and of course, her last name, placed her origin somewhere in India. Though her first name might suggest she was born in America. Her scores had been excellent, and he didn't fully understand why she hadn't already been assigned an Agent. However, her profile said she was cautious and meticulous, which made her a fitting match for Luka.

As a further offense to him, she was still in uniform, and she was...

"She's bleeding," he said, addressing Hadley. If it sounded like he blamed him for this minor insult, well.

"Sorry," she said, looking at her bleeding hand in surprise, like it wasn't supposed to do that. A cloth was tied roughly around the wound, but it didn’t do much to stop the bleeding, and only did a decent job of soaking up the blood.

Luka took a step towards her and held out his hand. She looked at him in surprise, but presented him with her injury. It wasn't like he minded healing people, but it was already a point against the Academy Healers. The red glow rose to the surface of his fingers, swirling lazily across his skin, as he touched the palm of her hand. The light brightened, focused on the damaged parts of her body, and stitched the tissue together. Luka saw her flinch at the shock of pain, and she tried to pull away from his grip. His hand tightened around her wrist, holding her steady. She was used to painless treatment, but Luka had never seen the point in the wasted energy.

The glow of his magic faded, slowly, to nothing. All that was left of her wound was a pale scar and a lingering pain.

"Healer," she gasped. Luka ignored her surprise, knowing that in all the stories, he wouldn't be a Healer. He didn't hear the rumors, detached from the Academy as he was, but he knew enough about their reputation to expect her reaction. Healers weren't powerful, they weren't fighters and they most certainly weren't legends. There was no glory in naming him a Healer, so his identity might instead be altered into a Forger or a Fighter, or maybe even a Summoner. Whichever power suited the storyteller's notion of what a legend should be.

He extended his hand towards her, "Alice."

Hadley sighed, "Great. You read her file. Of course you did."

"You need a new password, Thomas."

Hadley was required to change his password every three months, but he still used the same system he had when they were at the Academy together, so he had gotten it on the first try. They varied according to season and year, but to not make it too obvious, summer wasn't just summer, it was Taurus. It was based on some ancient Roman's idea of when the seasons changed.

Alice took his hand hesitantly and shook it.

"Mage Lavrin," she said. Her eyes studied him and landed on his shirt. She frowned at the print, which seemed fair, all things considering. She knew who he was, of course, and where he was from, so she might have gotten the joke.

Hadley sat down behind his desk and immediately looked more comfortable, more confident, the illusion of control restored. His office was probably more of a home to him than his apartment, even though neither place looked like it. He sat tall, shoulders back, and his hands folded in front of him. "First, the contract?"

"Right," Luka said. He rummaged through his bag, produced the stack of paper, and dumped it on the desk. "What exactly was your plan? Were you just hoping I wouldn't notice the random kid following me around?"

Hadley was carefully pushing the papers into a neat square, and cleared his throat. "I was maybe hoping you would be less inclined to make a scene in front of the," he paused to glance apologetically at Alice, before repeating, "random kid."

Luka smiled, but there wasn't an ounce of warmth in it. "I'm not making a scene, Thomas."

Hadley sighed. "Lavrin, can we not do this..."

"What?" Luka asked. "In front of the child? No, you're right. What will she think?"

"Enough," Hadley said. The attempted display of authority fell entirely flat, at least as far as Luka was concerned. It would be easy to push him further, if he wanted to, but he didn't actually care enough to start a fight.

"Just give me the case," Luka said. He wanted this to end. He wanted to get out of here, away from the Academy where he could breathe again.

"Fine." Hadley retrieved a file from a drawer and slammed it down in front of Luka. "There's some sort of outbreak at the Academy. People are getting sick, we can't determine why, we can't cure them. It's not normal, and it's no spell we know of."

Luka flipped through the file. He wasn't even going to point out that they knew around zero spells, so of course they wouldn't know this one, "How serious is it?" he asked.

"One student has died so far. That's when we came to you."

Luka's eyes snapped up from the file. "What?"

"We didn't want..."

"You said you were pretty sure it was lethal. Pretty sure, Hadley. You lied to me. You knew."

Hadley froze, realizing his mistake. "Yes, I thought..."

Luka threw the file down on the desk, and now he did want to start that fight. Hadley pushed his chair back, so he was at least out of Luka's reach, but he knew Luka could do worse things without even touching him.

"I really don't care what your excuse is. I can't believe this wasn't important enough to call me in before some kid fucking died," Luka growled, his voice low. This didn't even change things. He had known it was lethal, that the Agents couldn't handle it themselves. It didn't change the fact that he had been ready to back out. He knew there was a countdown before the first death, he just didn't know it had already been exceeded. His head was pounding again, and Abel's lifeless body haunted him when he closed his eyes.

Luka scoffed. "You thought I would take it out on you."

"Well, you..." He didn't finish. He didn't dare, Luka realized. He really was afraid.

Luka grabbed the file off the desk, quickly enough to make Hadley flinch.

"You're a fucking coward, Thomas," he said, and left the office behind. He would have slammed the door for effect, if he hadn’t expected Alice to follow him.