Witch In Charge - Celia Kyle Page 0,55

paid much attention in any of her classes, so that particular subject wasn’t so special.

As she watched Owyn return to his work, the tiniest stab of anxiety flared. Without wanting to give too much away, she’d been finding little moments to ask him the odd question about Ronun’s particular kind of curse. Merely to try and understand it better, she lied to herself.

“Mr. Stahagan?” He replied with his usual grunt. “Suppose someone with the ability to shapeshift was cursed so they were confined to a particular state during specific hours. How would one go about fixing that?”

Sitting up at sudden attention, her mentor locked the entirety of his concentration on her. Which was…unsettling, to say the least.

“What exactly is going on?”

“Huh?”

“Come now, Miss Holloway,” he cocked his head to the side, raising an almost admonishing eyebrow. “You’re not as clever as you might think.”

That stung a bit, but she could tell she had piqued the venerable man’s curiosity.

“Almost since you started here, you’ve asked seemingly random questions about gargoyles, lineage curses, ancestral ownages, and all manner of other things. Curiosity about curse breaking in general is one thing, but this all feels strikingly particular. Especially from someone who has your reputation for—forgive me—scattered attention.”

“Fair enough,” Kelly nodded.

She'd spent a lifetime building a certain reputation, so it was hard to get too bent out of shape over being called out on it. Particularly when she felt like a snatch of honesty might lead to something.

“So tell me, why this line of questioning? What’s captured your attention?”

“It’s nothing.”

Something inside her quailed under his attention. For so much of her life, Kelly would have rather jumped into moving traffic than ask an authority figure for help on a personal matter. When she started at Othercross Judiciary, the notion of leaning on a staff member only made her dig her heels in more.

“I have a strong suspicion it’s more than nothing, Miss Holloway.”

He was right, of course. Her handsome gargoyle’s problem ran the risk of becoming all-consuming. The old Kelly would probably have given up ages ago. If she couldn’t solve a problem immediately, then it probably wasn’t worth solving. But everything changes, including her.

“I’m waiting.”

There was a particular way Owyn had of saying things like that. Anyone else might have sounded accusing, but he was merely stating a fact. As forbidding as he could be, she was starting to trust him. Especially after their previous adventure of curing the dragon.

“It’s Ronun Fluevog.” She volunteered his name almost without thinking, then winced, wondering if she was somehow breaking his trust.

“The night watchman who has been escorting you around.” His bushy eyebrows raised at the revelation.

For her part, Kelly was surprised he’d paid that much attention to anything beyond the mounds of documents he burrowed into.

“Yes. He’s been—”

“Cursed,” he finished for her. “Yes, I suspected as much from your line of questioning. Tell me more.”

In for a penny…

“Instead of being able to shift at will like a normal gargoyle, he’s locked in stone from sunup to sundown every day. I suppose that’s why he has to work the night shift.”

“Very astute.” There was just a hint of sarcasm in his tone, and Kelly narrowed her eyes at it. In a weird way, she was almost proud of him. “How did he come to be afflicted with this?”

“It all has something to do with an ancestor of his who was apparently a real son of a bitch. Sorry, language.” Was that the first time she’d sworn in front of him? It made her a little nervous to just crack one off like that, which was new for her.

“Never mind that,” Owyn waved her off. “Some ancestors are. It’s the nature of things. So if I'm understanding, this curse comes through no actions of his own?”

“Apparently not.”

Folding his hands over his belly, Owyn took a deep breath in through his nose and searched the air in front of him. Kelly watched as he performed some pretty advanced calculus in his head. Something told her not to expect good news.

“I appreciate your efforts to glean information on the sly, Miss Holloway, but I’m afraid the basics you’ve been learning here won’t be effective on such a high-level enchantment.”

As he spoke, her stomach twisted into a cold knot. For all her good intentions, her mentor had confirmed her greatest fear in a single stroke—she was helpless on her own.

“If we’re dealing with a family or coven curse, then it requires far more specialized methods. It can be extremely complicated