“Daman, go along with the professor,” Gotarzes eggs on.
“It doesn’t work like that,” Veles quietly states. “You must be an adult. You must be male. And you must be alone.”
“How do I summon the witch?” I ask.
“Go into the bathroom, turn off the light, and stare into the dark mirror. Say ‘Milkmaid’ three times. If the human witch appears in the reflection, she has agreed to engage you. But beware. Once you summon her, you cannot withdraw your consent.”
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Byron mutters.
“I can,” Boann retorts. “Out of all the bulls here, the professor is the only one with balls.”
This elicits a snort from Euboia. “You know what they say about big horns.”
“Before you go,” Byron says as he holds out his hand. “Give me your cell. The magic— portal travel, whatever, will fry it.”
I reach into my toga and un-velcro the small travel pouch around my waist and hand it over. Along with my smart phone, the anti-theft device also holds my driver’s license and house keys.
Rather than slow walk to the bathroom like we’re in a horror movie, I employ a normal gait, water bottle in hand. At the door, I open it, look inside the dark room, then flip the light switch to make sure no one is hiding inside.
“Be back in a few,” I call over my shoulder.
“Famous last words,” Boann deadpans.
“Yeah,” Euboia concurs. “She’s probably gonna kill him.”
“What?” I spun around to find the wide-eyed group huddled together like a school of fish, hoping there’s safety in numbers.
“Oh!” Boann gives me her best show of innocence. “We were just saying to have fun and that we’d see you soon, Professor.”
“Huh.” I narrow my gaze. “That’s not what I heard.”
The ladies shrug, beam, wave, and essentially try to gaslight me. “We love you, Professor. Be safe,” Euboia calls.
“We believe in you,” Boann adds.
For the love of God.I roll my eyes at the ridiculousness of it all then step into the lavatory. It’s hard to believe that some of these highly intelligent students believe in this paranormal stuff.
I pull the door shut and twist the lock before turning to face the room. I search for signs of life, listening for mischievous giggles, while sniffing the air. Can there be someone in here with me? Is this just an elaborate hoax?
Moving fast, I take three large steps into the space and throw open the shower curtain.
Nothing.
I gaze at the ceiling, searching for the tell-tale signs of a camera— blinking red lights or reflective glints from a lens.
More nothing.
After striding over to the sink, I crouch down and quickly peer into the lower cabinet. It’s filled with what one would expect from a group of young men. Body spray, condoms, mouthwash. But nothing to signify that this is a prank.
I stand, face the mirror, and audibly exhale. I try to figure out what could have happened to convince Veles and Byron that this legend is real. Drugs maybe?
They didn’t seem the type.
With great reluctance, I reach for the switch, but my hand stalls midair, my fingers hovering just over it.Fuck.
“Can’t let these kids get into my head,” I mutter to myself. I hate that I’m growing nervous. Haven’t even turned off the light yet. “Urban legends and campus folklore.”
I shake my head in self-disillusion. Every reasonable minotaur my age knows that humans, witches, and catoptromancy are the stuff of fairytales.
