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“Miss Prudence Ever.” High Magistrate Barlow practically sighed my name, pinching the bridge of his nose with the weariness of a man reconsidering every life choice that had brought him to this very moment with me.

Even though it wasn’t our first.

“Would you care to explain why there are currently twelve chickens in the lobby?”

“Thirty-two,” I corrected automatically before slamming a hand over my mouth. I’d counted them myself, though, and they deserved the full truth.

Three pairs of eyes blinked at me incredulously.

I sighed before launching into the explanation that was more frantic word vomit than coherent. “I found an old spellbook, and it asked for a bird feather. So, I went outside to find one, assuming it was just a random bird. It appears it was a chicken, and that was a bad choice.”

I gestured wildly at the single chicken that had walked in with me for emphasis.

“What was the purpose of this particular experiment?” Magistrate Leon asked, sounding at least amused at my latest mishap.

“I’ll admit, this one was a long shot, and no harm, no foul… well, a few fowls, but you know that’s not what I mean,” I stammered out.

“Have we not asked you to stop this madness?” High Magistrate Barlow demanded. “Need I remind you of the incident that led you here?”

“The incident that I did not cause,” I countered, refusing to back down.

Not that the council had ever cared about inconvenient details like facts.

If a curse so much as sneezed in our general direction, we got hauled in to face judgment. Fairness was more of a suggestion with them. They looked at the evidence, made their decisions, and stamped CURSED on your file before going back home to their life they got to keep control of.

And just like that, your entire future belonged to a room full of people who thought chickens in the lobby were my biggest offense.

At least they’ve forgotten about the time my latest experiment latched onto the closest thing to me at the time. It just happened to be a box from an old estate sale. No one found it amusing when an antique doll ran around town following people.

It was the kind that you pull a string on its back and it says ‘mama.’ That was quite unsettling to say the least as it kept saying it over and over.

I could still hear its little porcelain feet stomping on the pavement as it bolted through the streets. That thought sent a shiver down my spine.

“How can you say that you’re innocent when there are a dozen chickens in my building?” He finally finished the rant, crossing his arms and glaring at me. He already decided I was guilty no matter what I said.

“I believe the lady has corrected us on that amount,” Magistrate Leon pointed out with a laugh.

“I’m glad that you find this amusing,” High Magistrate Barlow growled.

“We were planning to call you in for a meeting today, anyway,” Magistrate Lorcan said, urging them to focus back on the matter at hand. “In an attempt to stop these experiments of yours, we have found a curse expert. Maybe having a second party available at your disposal is a good idea.”

What could I even say to that? They were the decision makers here and my job was to appear repentant.

The truth was, I wasn’t about to share my experimentations with anyone. There was a reason they were called experiments. It’s not like I took the safe and cautious routes. I found obscure spellbooks, the kind they put in restricted sections.

My quest for finding a cure was the entire reason I opened an antique shop. I bought boxes left over from estate sales, and any antiques I could get my hands on.

I managed to find a few cursed objects, and a handful of spellbooks over the years. Not enough to cure anything, unfortunately, but enough to keep my obsession alive and my best friend concerned.

If they were bringing somebody from the School of Magistrates, I couldn’t let them see the things I’d found. Not only would they put a swift stop to it, I’d likely get thrown in jail.

The magistrates were academics at heart, and assholes through and through. I had yet to meet one that didn’t have a dry, condescending air to them.

Magistrate Leon had a semblance of humor but he also didn’t speak up about the accusations against me.

Not that I could share those thoughts out loud.

So, instead, I did my part by smiling and nodding until they finally let me out with another warning. Just another paper to add to my ever-growing file.