Free A Life Less Ordinary by Christopher Nuttall

through the side door. Not entirely to my surprise, parts of the building were glowing with magic.
    “It’s been a long time since I was here,” Master Revels said, softly. I nodded. I hadn’t been to the building in ages, ever since I had been a child. It wasn’t a comforting thought. Had someone looked at me and decided not to abduct me? “Let’s see what we can find, shall we?”
    We wandered through the building without a real plan. I found myself enjoying it more than I had expected, even though some of the displays were boring. Eventually, we found ourselves on the top floor, wandering through a very different exhibition. The Scottish Arts Council had been giving out grants to young and talented artists and the results of their work lay in front of us. There were a surprising number of visitors, much to my surprise; I thought the artists should have spent a few more years learning their trade.
    And then I saw it.
    One of the collections was of tiny statues, barely larger than my hand. Something about them caught my eye and I leaned over, picking one of them up. It was heavier than I expected and I had to use both hands, yet as I peered down at it something seemed to shimmer away. The statue had been protected by a glamour-spell and the new face...
    I swore. I was holding Jenny Dover – or the statue she had become – in my hands.

 

    Chapter Seven
    “Excuse me,” Master Revels said, as soon as he saw Jenny, “who made this statue?”
    “That would be...ah, we don’t have a name for him,” the assistant said. “He calls himself Mr Pygmalion, sir. It’s a stage name.”
    “Why am I not surprised?” Master Revels asked, dryly. If nothing else, it was proof that a magician was involved somewhere, for I was sure that the institution would have insisted on proper proof of identity if magic wasn’t involved. “How often do you get a new statue?”
    The assistant, it seemed, was a groupie when it came to artists, for she was happy to answer all of his questions. It seemed that the elusive statue-maker only came in when the crowds were all gone, where he would produce a new statue and sometimes take away one of the older statues to be sold. I felt a chill running down my spine as I realised that some of the girls might already have been sold and were adorning someone’s mantelpiece or garden, with their new owners having no idea that they had once been human. I looked down at Jenny’s statue and shuddered. Did she know that she was trapped, or had her mind been lost within the stone? I wanted to try a restoration spell at once, but Master Revels was still chatting to the assistant. She seemed to like him and I found myself wondering if he was going to ask for her number afterwards.
    I shook my head and turned back to the statues. There were nine on the table, all surrounded by a protective glamour. I could guess why. The police would probably ask a few questions if they discovered statues shaped like the missing girls, although they would probably be unable to imagine the truth. Just for a moment, I wondered what would happen if the statue maker was to be taken to court. The law doesn’t recognise the existence of magic, so the police would have a hard job proving that he abducted and transformed the girls. The bastard might walk free.
    And some of the statues were already missing. We were looking for sixteen girls, which meant that seven of them had gone onwards to new owners. I looked down at Jenny again and silently promised her that we would get her out of it, although I had no idea how we could do that. A restoration spell might not work properly outside the magical world.
    “And he’s due to come in tonight,” Master Revels said. The assistant nodded. “Would it be possible for us to meet with him?”
    “He doesn’t see guests, sir,” the assistant said. “He only sees some of the staff and...”
    “I intend to offer him a long-term contract,” Master Revels said, smoothly. He held up a