Psh, Arven didn't even have a ferret up his sleeve, let alone an idea. (It had struck him, after all, that Virgil the pointy-tooted ferret might not be the first thing a small bird wished to see.)

"Well yes, partly to gawk", he quipped, playfully squinting quizzically at the wren now perched on his knee. But then he was straight-faced and thoughtful. "My thinking is that if modern magic can't reverse your curse, it may be an idea to speak to historians or archeologists..."

But he didn't yet know enough about Miss Dempsey's situation to chase this theory. "Would you mind telling me your story? The Prophet wasn't exactly riddled with detail."