When it came down to it, Luka didn’t bother following their emerald road.

Maybe he should have, at least for appearances or to pick up on any clues left there, but he was running out of time as well as patience. The drumming of his heartbeats were like a headache pulsing in his head, and whether it was the truth or not, he thought he could feel his magic yielding to the wild magic in his veins.

The closer he got to the building, the more sure he felt, like there was a pull between the spell and its creator. That part, he knew, was a trick played on his mind by his desperation, but it was something to hold on to.

It took him the better part of an hour to walk there. He could have jumped, but he didn’t trust his magic or maybe he just didn’t want to trust it. It was dangerous to take something for granted, if it could fail any minute. He had put alerts on his phone for every 15 minutes, and stopped to text Alice that he was still alive. The main purpose was to make sure she wouldn’t bother him, when she suddenly decided she thought he might be in danger.

Almost as soon as he turned onto the street, there could be no doubt about which building he was looking for. Sitting, as it did, in between glass towers like a relic of a forgotten age, and looking every bit the early twentieth century haunted house that it was. It was a wide, squat, four story building in red brick. Vines crawled up the walls, wild and untamed. The ground floor was boarded up, but he didn't consider that a major problem. He reached into his pocket for the bottle of beta blockers, and shook a couple into his palm. He swallowed them, before locating a loose board, and creeping inside.

He reached for the gun settled against his lower back, as he moved through the dark hallways. He walked in the direction of a dim light, and his surroundings became clearer as he neared it. He turned a corner, into a wider hallway, and was faced with a figure in a dark suit and a mask. A wolf this time. He leveled the gun at him, noting the way it trembled in his hands. The man raised his hands lazily.

"No need for that," he said. "Follow me."

He put the gun down, but not away, and followed Wolf Mask. He was led up a set of crumbling concrete stairs, and further into the building. There were no shutters on the windows up here, and everything was brighter. The wallpaper was peeling off the walls in thick ribbons, and most of the ceiling lay crumbled on the floor. Where the sunlight hit, moss was growing in patches, while dust motes were dancing in the air. He glanced into the rooms they passed, and found the abandonment of single pieces of furniture: a chair, a small cupboard, a lamp. Wolf Mask stopped, swept his hand towards the room in front of him, and retreated. Luka hesitated, before moving forward.

The light inside the room was cold and dim. A curtain covered the window, and colored the man in washed out monochromes.

"The great Luka Lavrin," he said, stepping out of the shadows. The light from the hallway cast a dirty white glow that could barely be called a light at all, but it served to make his features slightly more clear. His hands were placed casually in his pockets, making the point that he didn't consider Luka a threat. He had led Luka here. He was in control. "What an honor."

"I was under the impression that I was expected."

"Oh, I certainly hoped you would show up." When the man smiled, it was wide and predatory, showing off his teeth. If it was meant to look friendly, it utterly failed. On the other hand, the man was a murderer. Maybe it wasn't designed to look friendly at all.

"So it was personal," Luka stated, staying put in the open door, "I was wondering about that, once it started looking like a treasure hunt."

The smile widened, a brief twitch of his lips, but it never fell away entirely. Luka studied his face, trying to see if he could place him. Everyone knew Luka's name and reputation, but based on the man's age, they could have been at the Academy at the same time. Of course the Mutiny crew had been fairly tightly knit, and he should have recognized him if they had been there at the same time. He didn't. Which meant he had to be at least a couple of years younger or older. Colors bled out in the room, and all he could tell for sure was that he had dark hair, black in the dim light, and stubble shadowed his jaw. When his eyes caught the light, they looked pale gray, but were probably light blue.

"So why am I here?" Luka asked, having lost patience with this game several moves ago.

"I brought you here, to offer you a chance to help."

"Help you?"

That smile, that never quite went away, widened again. "I'd like to think you'd be helping yourself, as well."

Luka's eyes narrowed. He wanted to refuse, but he knew now that if he didn't get the cure he would die. This guy held all the power, and he knew it.

"What do you want me to do?"

He stepped aside, a gesture inviting Luka to enter the room. It was an annoying feature of this meeting, that every move Luka made, put the other man in control.

He walked into the room.

“Leave us,” the man said, which was when Luka realized someone else was in there. He only caught a glimpse of the kid, as he passed by him, but he felt the weight of eyes on him.

The door clicked closed, and Luka turned.

"First,“ the man said, ”I want you to infect Hadley Thomas."

"Why?"

"Because, Luka, I didn't get you hired so you could be the hero. I got you hired, so you could show the Council that they have been backed into a corner with no way out. I want them desperate and afraid, and in order to achieve that, I need the infection to spread closer to home. You have access to Mage Thomas, who is close enough, and that way none of my people blow their cover."

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"What use will I be to you as a traitor?"

"Oh, I’m not worried about that."

Luka silenced, trying to envision his future. So, he infected Hadley. He became a traitor. Would Hadley protect him? He had no reason to. Nothing besides a sense of nostalgia, and misplaced loyalty. So, Luka would die either way, and the only remaining question was if treachery was worth it for the cure.

"Come on, Luka. I know about your history with the Council. That's why I chose you. Don't you want to take them out?" He spoke the last words slowly, punctuating them by stepping further into Luka's space and was now officially invading it.

"No," he said. "Not like this."

The man tilted his head. "You know they won't show you the same kind of loyalty. You're a Rogue, and you know how they feel about you, as reckless as you are. They're like a cat chasing a mouse, Luka, and next time they might just decide to snap your neck rather than to play with you."

"Maybe. Which is why I have to be better than them."

"Okay. Sure. I admire that." He swept his arms out wide. "I guess you're free to go."

Luka took a step back. As much as he wanted that cure, he still had time. He still had time to find another way, even though he knew there wasn't one. He knew that, and he couldn't concede to giving up his life, or the life of another student, which was why he stopped, even before the man spoke again.

"Just," the man said, putting his hands back in his pockets. "Consider one thing for me. If the Council was truly capable, you wouldn't have been forced to sacrifice the life of your friend. Abel, wasn't it?"

"I know they aren't capable," Luka growled. "I know they don't deserve any better. I'm still not joining your fucking crusade."

"Really? You'd give your life for that? To be the better man?"

"Fuck you."

He really wanted to punch that fucking smile off his face. Magic flowed to his hands, red sparks dancing across his skin.

"There it is.“ He was actually so confident that Luka wouldn’t hurt him, that he could allow himself to be amused at even the threat of violence. He really was a smug bastard.

Luka clenched his fingers into fists. His magic felt off, further reminding him of his deadline. "You didn't have to kill innocent people to get what you want."

"But it is so very efficient, isn't it? Besides, I'm not killing them. The Council is."

Luka swept forward, catching the man by his neck, and slamming him into the wall. Plaster rained down on the both of them, dusting them in white.

"You don't get to wash your hands of this," Luka said. "You targeted Matt Young to get to me. He was fifteen." His fingers tightened around his neck. The man appeared unconcerned, but Luka could feel his pulse rising, he could feel the restricted airflow. A green glow appeared under his fingers, coloring their magic a muddled brown. The magic pushed back against his fingers, as if hardening the skin underneath. He was a Fighter, but Luka could have guessed as much, even if the spell at Mutiny hadn’t revealed it. Healers knew how to fear pain; Fighters didn't.

"Revolutions require sacrifices, Luka. It's unfortunate, but necessary." His voice was scratchy, but he was perfectly composed. Luka removed his hand. "You can't tell me this isn't what the world needs."

Luka hated that he was right. Returning to the Academy had only reinforced what he already knew. Their world did need this, and maybe this really was the only way change could happen. He only wished that it wasn't. "So what's the plan?" Luka asked, backing away.

"We force them into a situation where they have no choice but to negotiate, or step down."

"And when they don't?" Maybe this guy was naive enough to think that putting pressure on them would be enough to make them fold, but Luka knew better. There was no way this would end peacefully. Once Luka infected Hadley, it would be as good as a declaration of war.

The smile returned, sharp and dangerous. "Then they will burn."

"You believe you can take them down," Luka said flatly. As creative as it was to recruit nature mages, from what Luka had seen, they didn't have the force to take on the entire Academy in a fight. Not even if they managed to spread the infection within the Agents. They would make their move long before the infection would incapacitate any of them.

"Yes," the man said, answering the question despite the fact that Luka clearly hadn't posed it as one. Luka studied him, trying to figure out if his confidence was genuine, but it really did seem like he believed his own words. Whether the arrogance was earned, remained to be seen.

"What happens to me, if I accept?"

"You already have." The man put his hands on Luka's shoulders. Luka froze, but at least he didn't flinch. "I will personally cure you, of course. You're no good to me dead, Luka. I'll even cure everyone else, too, once we get what we want."

Luka didn't want to die. That was what it came down to. Certainly not in three days, or however long he had left. Maybe things would have been different, if he thought he could crack the spell, and find the cure. Maybe things would have been different, if he really believed his principles were worth dying for. At least, if he committed treason, he could run. At least, there was a chance the Council would lose and he wouldn't have to.

Either way, he was right again: Luka had already accepted.

Even though the students didn't deserve this, the Council did, and he wasn't going to let another innocent person die for this. The Council, on the other hand, could burn for all he cared.

"Okay," he said at last. "So, what happens now?"

His canines were long and sharp enough, that they added to the danger of the smile.

"Once you have completed your mission, you get a text with a location. I'm giving you 24 hours, but considering your other deadline, I trust you'll do it in less."

"Great," Luka said. "Have I at least earned your name?" He hated being in a deficit of information, and this guy knew far too much about Luka already. At least with a name, Luka might be able to make up some of the difference.

"John," the man answered with too much confidence and a twitch of his lips.

"Cute," Luka answered. "You know, trust goes both ways."

The man smiled. "Well, I guess you have a point."

He held out his hand in a formal greeting. Luka stared at it for a moment, before finally reaching out to grasp it. His eyes flickered back up to his face, so he could read him.

"Garrett," he said. This time it felt more genuine, familiar, like this was how he was used to presenting himself. It might still be a false name, but at least it indicated that he had carried it longer. Luka nodded and withdrew his hand.

"You have a thing about touching, don't you?" Garrett observed.

"I wasn't hugged as a child," Luka answered, almost automatically. Once he had chosen to embrace his identity as an orphan, appearing nonchalant about it became easier.

"No, I suppose not," Garrett said. "How old were you when your parents died?"

"Nine." If he really knew his history, he should have known that detail as well. It was all part of the legend. Which made him wonder why he pretended not to.

Garrett nodded. "Welcome to the team, Luka."

He patted Luka on the arm on his way out, and then he was gone. Luka didn't follow, but remained in the dim room for a moment. "Fuck," he muttered. He glanced around one last time, hoping Garrett had left something behind, but found the room as empty as before. He ran a hand through his hair, upsetting a cloud of plaster dust. He brushed it off his shoulders as well, and turned to leave.

Once he stepped out of the building and back into the world, he was forced to face reality. His time was running out in more ways than one, and he was ready to do what he had to, but it wasn't going to be easy.