Chris Moriarty - The Inquisitor's Apprentice

As the rescuers dashed into the theater, he drew down the flames that crackled overhead — just as Sacha had seen him draw magic out of thin air back in his library — and flung them straight at Wolf.

Wolf was defenseless. He didn’t seem to have a clue what was coming at him. To Sacha’s horror, he had even taken off his glasses. Did he think he had time to wipe them on his shirttails and think things over before protecting himself from Morgaunt?

Then, at the last possible instant, as the fireball hurtled toward him, Wolf looked up at Morgaunt.

Wolf worked no visible magic. He merely stood there, with a blank look on his face, watching Morgaunt through eyes as flat and bleak as a winter sky. Only Sacha saw Wolf’s magic, and he saw it with the second sight that he now understood was a curse as well as a talent.

Suddenly Sacha didn’t ever want to see magic again. He knew now why ordinary people feared and distrusted Inquisitors — and why ordinary Inquisitors feared and distrusted Wolf. And he knew that after tonight, no matter how long he worked with Wolf and how much he came to like and trust him, some part of him would always be terrified of the man.

But however terrifying Wolf’s magic was, what happened next was worse.

Morgaunt again made the gesture he had used to call down the flames on Wolf. But this time he called down the power of the gathering crowd outside the burning theater. Sacha could feel their fear and panic surging through the air like electrical current. He could almost taste it.

Wolf countered Morgaunt’s new magic. Where Morgaunt had seized the power of unknowing and unwilling people, Wolf drew on a very different power. It rippled and flowed around him just as Sacha had seen the streets of New York ripple and flow before the Rag and Bone Man appeared. And suddenly Sacha could have sworn he saw Shen standing beside Wolf. Except this was a sort of sunlight-through-clouds echo of Shen that was the absolute opposite of a shadow.

The other forms that began to glimmer around Wolf were stranger still. They towered over him like giants, their faces strangely familiar. Here was the Rag and Bone Man, straddling his ancient horse like a rider of the apocalypse. Here was a tattered, worn-down beggar whose face seemed to change from moment to moment so that he looked like everyone and nobody. And here was a pale woman in white whose face was the saddest thing Sacha had ever seen in his life.

But the powers Wolf had called upon weren’t enough. Morgaunt’s stolen power was stronger. And it grew stronger still with every person who joined the mob outside the theater.

Wolf stumbled. he dropped his glasses, and they shattered with a crack like a gun going off.

Instinctively, Sacha took a step forward to help him — and realized that he could move again. In the heat of the battle Morgaunt must have forgotten about him. He glanced sideways and saw the same realization in Antonio’s eyes. They looked at each other for no more than a split second. Then they both lunged for the knife.

Sacha reached it first. He snatched it up and stabbed at Morgaunt. But Morgaunt jerked away at the last second, and the blade cut through empty air. An instant later, Morgaunt had hold of the knife too, crushing Sacha’s fingers and threatening to wrench it from his grasp.

Antonio ducked past Sacha and grabbed Morgaunt’s other arm. Over his shoulder, Sacha caught fleeting glimpses of Wolf and his ghostly helpers. They were taking advantage of Morgaunt’s distraction, making more headway against him now that Sacha and Antonio had joined the fight. He could hear TR urging them on, and see Payton and Houdini edging around the theater with Lily in the hopes of outflanking Morgaunt. But would it be enough?

Suddenly Morgaunt gave a great heave. Antonio flew through the air, landed in a heap, and lay still. Sacha struggled for the knife, gritting his teeth to hang on despite the punishment Morgaunt was inflicting on him. He felt his fingers go numb and knew he couldn’t hold on much longer. Then Morgaunt began to twist the knife in Sacha’s hands, driving it relentlessly toward his throat.

Closer and closer the blade came, until it was only inches from Sacha’s face. In desperation, Sacha did the only thing he could think of: he bit down on Morgaunt’s hand as hard as he could and hung on for dear life.

Morgaunt screamed. He wrenched Sacha into the air and slammed him back down with a bone-jarring thud. Sacha’s head swam and his knees buckled, and he knew he could only hold on for a few more seconds…

And then Wolf was upon them. He forced Morgaunt’s head around so that the two men were staring into each other’s eyes. Then he unleashed a power colder and more terrible than any magic Sacha had ever seen before. Sacha saw the exact moment at which Morgaunt admitted defeat. One instant Morgaunt was in possession of the fireman’s body. The next he was gone, and the fireman was crumpling to the floor with a dazed look on his face.

For a minute Wolf stood over the body, blazing with magic like an avenging angel. Then he seemed to fade and shrink right before Sacha’s eyes until he was only his everyday self again, as dull and gray as dishwater.

He knelt over Sacha. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You shouldn’t have seen that yet. I knew you weren’t ready, but I didn’t have a choice. are you all right?”

Behind Wolf, Sacha could see the other rescuers gathering up Edison and Antonio and the fireman. Someone seemed to have placed some kind of protective spell on the theater; there were no more falling rafters, and the flames had a glossy, distant look, as though they were burning behind glass.

“Say something, Sacha.”

“Morgaunt — he told me — he said I’m — like you.” He couldn’t even make himself say the word “Mage.”

“Do you believe him?”

“I can’t do magic!” Sacha protested. “I’ve never done magic!”

“Haven’t you?” Wolf’s voice was gentle, but it cut through Sacha’s words, silencing him. He thought of how Shen had shown up just when he needed her. Of how the Rag and Bone Man had saved him again and again. Of the times he’d felt the city move and ripple around him. Had those things only happened to him? Or had he somehow done them?

“Fine! I just won’t do it anymore! I can—”

“No, you can’t. You don’t have a choice. I learned that the hard way when I was your age. The only choice you have is whether you control the magic or the magic controls you.”

“You could have told me!” Suddenly Sacha felt bitter and ill-used. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because I knew you weren’t ready to hear it. And I was afraid that your being able to see magic would make it even harder for you. I was right, too. Look at you.”

“I’ll be all right,” Sacha muttered.

Wolf looked at him gravely, started to speak, and then stopped himself. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Wolf reached out a hand to help Sacha up — but Sacha flinched away from it and buried his head in his hands. Wolf stood over him for a moment, waiting for Sacha to look up. Then he sighed and walked away.

When Sacha finally raised his head, Lily and Payton were there. They helped him to his feet, and the three of them followed the rescue party through the flames.

Somehow they made it out of the burning building — straight into a street carnival. Sacha had known there was a crowd outside, but he’d had no idea just how big it was. More people were arriving every second. Hucksters were selling hot dogs and roasted peanuts. Some enterprising fellow had even stationed himself by the gate to the hotel grounds with a sign that read ADMISSION TO THE BURNING RUINS 1 °CENTS. The fire might have begun as a tragedy, but it was rapidly turning into melodrama. The death of the elephant hotel had become a genuine Coney Island event.