Luka had done the math, roughly, in his head.

Once Matt died, the Academy immediately put everyone showing symptoms into a coma. It did make it a lot harder to establish a timeline, since the only data he could really trust was what he had gotten from Matt, and a data set of one was not a data set at all. By this best estimation, Matt had died a little over a week after he was infected.

The reason putting the others in a coma worked to slow the thing down, was that the heart acted as a timer. If he accounted for that, he could estimate a vague average based on the progression of the comatose patients as well, but he would prefer to use that as a very loose guideline.

Luka's average heart rate would be lower than Matt’s, given both his fitness level and his age, but on the other hand, Matt wouldn't have been running around, trying to track down a murderer, before anyone else died. All in all, he figured he could give himself a week, maybe a little less to be sure. He would have to monitor his symptoms, of course, and adjust accordingly, but a week. A week from activating his magic, and until he would die. The effects of the infection weren’t instant, he would have a couple of days without symptoms. Then he would start feeling disconnected, as the foundations of his magic changed. Two or three days after that, his magic would start acting up, becoming unpredictable. Then he would lose access to it altogether, as it tipped towards untethered magic. And then he would die.

It hadn't been in the autopsy report, but Matt's veins were black. Like he had been poisoned. Or the magic had burned through his blood. Either way, this wasn't going to be a pleasant experience.

He understood that he looked unstable right now. He felt unstable, too. It was hard to explain why, impossible even, but he knew this was all set up for him. It made him look conceited, but he didn’t actually want this. He would prefer any evidence, that he was wrong, but he didn’t believe in this many coincidences. So, either someone wanted him dead, and they would get exactly what they wanted, or someone wanted his attention.

He counted on the second option, counted on this being a test. For that same reason, he wasn't actually afraid of this. This wasn't a step towards his own demise, this was the next step in this sick game he was in. He lay his hand flat against the hand print.

Alice grabbed his wrist and yanked his hand away from the wall before he could call on his magic.

"Luka," she said. Scolded, really. She sounded very unhappy with him, and maybe he should have explained the entire reasoning behind the decision to her.

"Do you want to explain to me what exactly you think you're doing?"

Right. He definitely should have. He pulled his hand out of her grip.

"It's not going to kill me."

"No?"

"No. If I'm right about this, they need me for something. They won't let me die."

"And if you're wrong?"

"I'm not wrong," he said. He looked back at the hand print, so sure it had been left there for him. Of course it could be exactly what it looked like, just a spell someone had left. Something that would make the art on the walls move, or something that would make you feel a very particular kind of high. A party trick, nothing more. But he could see the outline of the map in between the graffiti. He could see exactly what would happen when he poured his magic into the spell. It would lead him to the next part of the treasure hunt.

"It doesn't make any sense, Luka. You know that." She said it in the kind of voice, someone might use with a wild animal, if they believed being soft-spoken would convince it not to attack.

Luka’s hand ached to reach out for the hand print. "The only people I have pissed off enough to want me dead are on the Council. None of them would be able to do this."

"This isn't about you, Luka. It can't be."

Luka pulled his hands through his hair. Alice looked at him like he had lost his mind, but had he? He could see it, see the connections to him, but no one else could. Was he being paranoid?

"Please just take a step back, and look at what you're doing," Alice said. "Please stop this."

"Alice." He could see that she was scared, that she had no idea how to stop him. She was going to try, but there was only one person with that kind of power over him, and it wasn't her. "I have to do this."

"You can't. You of all people cannot be allowed to do this." She stepped up to the wall, holding her hand above the print. "I can't let you do it."

She pressed her hand to the wall, and closed her eyes. He admired the move, but in the end, she didn't have the courage to go through with it. He waited for her to activate her magic, but she never did. He put his hand on her shoulder, and pulled her gently away. "It's not for you," he said.

"It's not for you, either."

"Okay," he said. He stepped back, away from the wall, towards the center of the tunnel. Alice followed, looking relieved. "Okay," he repeated. "Look, maybe this is enough for Hadley to get us access to an Oracle. If it is, we'll do that instead, and I won't have to do this."

"Okay," Alice said. "Good."

She pulled out her phone, but Luka stopped her, before she had even unlocked it. "Let me do it," he said. "I owe him an apology."

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Alice nodded, and put her phone back in her pocket. Luka called Hadley, but put his phone on silent first.

He took a couple of steps away from Alice, pretending to want some privacy so she wouldn't be able to pick up on Hadley's side of the conversation. It kept ringing, and Luka was concerned, that he wasn't going to pick up at all, that he had finally crossed the line. When he finally did pick up, Luka wondered if he should apologize after all. He didn't, but he gave himself credit for at least considering it.

"Thomas," he said. "We've found the source." He said this knowing they had no way of verifying it without using magic, but Hadley didn't know that.

"Great," Hadley said. His voice was flat. Luka knew he was going for emotionless, but he also knew him well enough to see through it. He was angry. "What's next?"

"Well," Luka said. "We still can't get anywhere without Oracles."

"I can't—"

"No, I know, but this is a solid lead. We just need an Oracle for an hour, then we can close this case tomorrow, and you never have to see me again."

Hadley sighed. "Constance isn't going to change her mind."

"Great," Luka said. "Thanks."

He hung up, and his screen immediately lit up with another call from Hadley, but he turned it off, and put it in his pocket.

"He thinks he can convince the Council," he told Alice. "Go back to the Academy, see if there's anything you can do to help."

"Okay," she said. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going home," he said. "You're right. Playing into their hands isn't the answer. I'm going to look for another way, in case we don't get an Oracle."

“I’m not leaving you here.” She was suspicious, as she should be. Hadley had warned her, and she thought she had some sort of responsibility to keep him safe. Even if he hadn’t, Luka had folded too easily, after acting too erratic. Her flaw was, that she wanted to believe him, and she looked relieved when he gestured towards the exit, and walked out with her. Luka knew how to lie, and he didn't care enough to feel bad about lying to her.

He only had to walk with her to the end of the street, before he would have to break off. He was going east, towards the waterfront, while she would need to head west to get to the subway station. He could have gone with her, and gotten a subway line that would take him across the channel, but the walk to the ferry crossing wasn’t so long, that it didn’t make sense. Besides, he didn’t think Alice would know to question him on this.

He knew she hesitated, when he crossed the street and left her on the corner, something inside her still telling her to be cautious, even though she had a job to do and the clock was ticking. It took him five minutes to walk to the waterfront, where he doubled back. He didn’t retrace his steps, but turned onto a smaller street that ran parallel to the main road. Even if it didn’t slow him down at all, he did think he was jumping through too many hoops for this. This was his case, and he shouldn’t have to be deceptive to solve it.

When he ducked back into the parking garage and descended into the tunnels, he knew there was a small chance Alice would be there. If she had decided not to trust him, it would be hard to explain what he was doing back here.

When he turned the lights back on, he found Mutiny blessedly empty.

It felt different like this, when all he could hear was the soft echo of his own footsteps. It was peaceful. It was home. Even now, with the tainted feeling of knowing that the infection had come from here, that someone had used Mutiny like that. It was supposed to be a safe space, but now they were going to have to fight to get that back. He returned to the hand print. It wasn't unusual for mages to leave each other spells, and sometimes it would turn into games, contests, to out-do each other. It was part of how Mutiny worked. Showing off your own skills, while pushing others to get better, was how ideas were born.

That wasn't what this was. He was sure of it. This was taunting.

He studied the outline of the map above him, but it was meaningless until he poured magic into the spell.

If there was a way around infecting himself, he couldn't see it. He wanted to out-smart this asshole, but seeing no other path, he settled for plowing ahead into the trap. He didn't exactly have time for finesse, and he was far more interested in facing the bastard. He put his hand to the wall, and as he fit it over the green silhouette, he inadvertently and unwillingly thought about Hadley. This was exactly the kind of reckless action that had earned him an apprentice. Alice was meant to stop him from being stupid, but she wasn't here. She had made the mistake of trusting him, of choosing to believe him, and had left him in a position to do exactly what Hadley had carefully tried to prevent.

It felt a little bit satisfying. It felt victorious, like he had beaten Hadley at this game.

"You tried, Thomas." He smiled, faintly.

Hopefully it would be worth it. Hopefully one victory would lead to another.

He poured his magic into the wall.

The hand print lit up, green beneath his own red magic. Light trailed from the middle finger — a detail that would have been a lot more amusing, if they weren’t dealing with a murderer — and outlined the map he had already discovered. The light turned from green to red, gradually, as Luka's own magic started feeding into the spell, and was briefly an unsightly brown like the color of old blood. The graffiti on the wall had lined up to form the streets and borders of the map, but now he saw it clearly. He could tell where he was, even before a dot appeared and informed him that you are here. He glowered at the text, offended that his sense of direction was being questioned. An X appeared south of his location, near the edge of Chinatown. He filed away the location, and removed his hand from the wall.

The infection had settled into his body. He felt the itch of it now, underneath the fading buzz of his magic. He had expected it to be a silent, unnoticeable killer, but maybe it was because he was a Healer. Because he could feel it burrowing inside him, tainting his magic with every heartbeat. He put his hand across his heart, but he could already hear the beats echoing in his ears. How many did he have left? Somewhere around 700.000? And he had already spent ten just standing here counting.

He shook his head, trying to dislodge those thoughts. He couldn't allow himself to obsess over the seconds. He knew what he was getting into. He knew he was getting cured. He just needed to follow the map. The light faded slowly, and he scanned the route one more time, deliberately ignoring how close it would take him to Quinn's apartment. He wanted to lose himself in the case, so deeply, that the guilt wouldn’t weigh him down. Quinn would hate what he was doing, but if Luka did his job right, he never had to know.

Of course, if he was wrong, he could be dead in a week. Sooner, if he was walking right into a trap.

He took a deep breath, and called his magic to the surface. The quick stab of pain he fired into his nerves should have calmed him, but instead it left an emptiness.

Infecting himself with the virus reminded him of his own mortality, something he hadn’t given much thought to in the last fifteen years. Vulnerability was foreign to him, and not very comfortable.

It would be fine.

He was sure his theory was correct.

Pretty sure.

Either way, there was no going back now. He was infected, so even if going to the X on the map might get him killed, not going definitely would. He steadied himself and climbed back up the stairs. In the space between the door to the tunnels and the door to the parking garage, he paused. Although in a lot of ways it was too late for it, he bit down on his hand, hard enough to draw blood. With it, he drew a lock next to the door. It wasn't a spell, but there was a different kind of power in blood and intent. It would serve as a weak ward, but the symbol in itself should deter mages from entering. He healed his hand, and continued out of the parking garage, into an uncertain future.