The Inquisitor's Apprentice by Chris Moriarty Read Free Book Online Page B

was going on either.
    Then they waited.
    Â 
    And waited.
    Sacha didn't dare watch Wolf, so he examined the office instead. It wasn't much bigger than the front room where Payton sat—and it was even messier. Every flat surface was covered with papers, books, and food. The papers were piled so high that they spilled over onto the floor in shaggy white drifts. The food looked like it must have been inedible (at least by Sacha's mother's standards) even when it was still fresh. And most of the books looked like they'd been read in the bathtub.
    But the strangest thing in the room was a muddy heap of black wool on the floor next to Wolf's desk. At first Sacha thought it was a dog. Then he realized it was just Wolf's overcoat. He must have shucked it off onto the floor, mud and all, when he got to work that morning.
    "So," Wolf asked, his eyes still on his file, "do you two have names?"
    Sacha and Lily stared at each other again, neither one wanting to speak first.
    "I'm Lily Astral," Lily said finally.
    Now Wolf did look up, blinking in astonishment. "Good heavens, a girl," he murmured. "And Maleficia Astral's daughter too. What on earth am I supposed to do with you?"
    Lily blushed furiously and muttered something about just wanting a fair chance, no matter who her mother was.
    "
Fair?
" Wolf asked, still in the same tone of mild amusement. "If you don't mind my saying so, Miss Astral, you appear to be under a serious misapprehension about the nature of the Inquisitors Division. Not to mention life in general. I fear that severe disappointment lurks in your future."
    By this time Lily's face was so red that Sacha almost felt sorry for her.
    But then Wolf turned his attention to Sacha, and he forgot all about Lily's problems.
    "And I suppose you would be ... um..." Wolf glanced back at the file on his desk. Whatever he was looking for, he didn't seem to find it there.
    "Sacha Kessler."
    "Right. Kessler." Wolf's oddly colorless eyes settled on Sacha. "Why do I think I know that name? You don't have any relatives who would have come to the attention of the police before? No wonderworking rabbis or practical Kabbalists or revolutionary rabble-rousers?"
    "Oh, no! Nothing like that! We're complete and utter nobodies!"
    That was Sacha's first lie. He regretted it bitterly the minute the words were out of his mouth. And he would have regretted it even more if he'd known how many other lies he'd end up piling on top of it.
    He had the oddest feeling that Wolf knew it was a lie, too. Not that he said so. He just went all bland and mild and absentminded. But as the seconds ticked by, Sacha's skin began to itch and he had to bite his tongue to keep from blurting out a confession just to fill the awkward silence.
    Just when Sacha was sure he couldn't stand it anymore, Wolf turned back to Lily Astral. "There are two sorts of girls in this world," he told her. "Girls who like to stare at omnibus accidents, and girls who don't. Which kind are you?"
    Lily blinked in surprise. "I—I suppose I'm the staring kind."
    "I'm sorry to hear it," Wolf said cheerfully. "Ghoulish curiosity is a dreadful character flaw in a young lady. But quite promising from a professional standpoint. You're hired. And only mostly because your father would have me fired if I didn't hire you."
    While Lily was still choking on that, Wolf turned back to Sacha. "And what about you? You don't have any rich relatives. Why should I hire you?"
    "Well," Sacha stammered, "I can ... you know ... see witches?"
    Wolf leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. His face still looked bland and expressionless, but Sacha got the distinct impression that he was laughing at them.
    "It seems to me that between the two of you, you have the makings of exactly one decent apprentice," he said. "Miss Astral here has a burning ambition to be an Inquisitor, but"—he leaned forward again to check her file—"no magical abilities whatsoever. Or none that she'll admit