Page 60 of Professor and the Seer

“Is it magic?”

“No.” He didn’t know what changed them or why they all seemed intent on them. More specifically Frieda, he realized, as she moved to his side. Their heads and gazes swiveled to follow.

“I don’t like this,” she muttered.

“Me either, vixen. Get back inside.”

An idea squashed, as the door to the building slammed shut. Frieda tugged on the handle. “It’s stuck.”

“And it will stay that way until the dean takes it out of lockdown mode,” he stated as the magical defense system finally took measures to protect the students. It hadn’t activated before because the threat had been inside.

“Maybe I can give them nightmares like the Chupacabra or cut them off from the future like the ghost.” She stared intently at the bunny. Hard enough John worried she’d pop a vessel. “It’s not working,” she huffed. “It’s like they’re not there. I can’t see anything.”

“We need a better spot if we’re going to defend ourselves.”

“Where? We’ll never make it to the car.”

Hop. Slink. Scritch. The monsters moved closer, oblivious to the pouring rain and lightning.

Being soaked to the skin made him think of his Grams. “I need the umbrella.”

“I hardly think getting wet is our biggest problem,” she muttered.

“It’s not just an umbrella,” he stated before bolting for the car. He pounded down the steps, and some of the monsters shifted to watch him run past, but as suspected—and feared—they had no interest in him. He’d reached the rear passenger door when a saber-toothed bunny hopped from behind the bumper, whiskers twitching. He froze, hand on the handle, but it skipped past him, congregating with the others at the bottom of the steps. Odd until he realized the building must have activated a repelling ward when it locked down.

“Stay on the stairs!” he yelled before diving into his car to grab the umbrella. It wasn’t the kind that shrank down to be portable but the three-foot sturdy version. A press of a button and the handle disengaged from the parasol part, and he pulled free a sword. Thank you, Grams.

Weapon in hand, he went charging back to Frieda, who had plastered herself against the door of the building. The monsters crowded the bottom step, swaying in place, grunting, twitching. Uncanny and unnatural.

Also huddled between him and Frieda.

With his lips pressed into a tight line, he went wading in, swinging the sword, perhaps lacking the finesse of his fighter friends, but it helped the monsters didn’t have much defense against his blade. As a matter of fact, they didn’t budge, cry out, or bleed, because they weren’t real. His sword went through without any kind of hindrance.

“It’s an illusion,” he shouted to Frieda. One he didn’t understand. Why would someone do that? And how come he didn’t sense any magic? Unless… There was only one other time he’d not been able to detect any arcane spells despite evidence to the contrary. In the cavern with the portal where Reaper used to be held prisoner.

Was the being that escaped causing the storm and the mirage of monsters? If so, he had to be nearby.

“Stay close to the building!” John instructed as he ran into pouring rain onto the quad. He cast out his senses, looking for an anomaly.

Where are you?

Motion caught his attention, and he whirled, grimacing as yet more of the fake monsters trundled into view. Minotaurs this time. Definitely not native to this area. He turned his back to them and kept looking for the person casting the illusion, only to choke as something gripped him from behind and lifted.

Apparently the minotaurs weren’t so fake after all. An error that cost him and he had no time to correct as he went flying.

18

The minotaurs came stomping out of nowhere, big, hulking beasts that headed for me. What should I do? Unlike the monsters at the bottom of the steps, the minotaurs had a presence. I could feel them, but before I could do anything about it, lightning cracked, loud and close enough I yelped, shut my eyes, and slammed my hands over my ears.

When I opened them, I caught sight of John flying, tossed by a minotaur. The other four still trudged for me, and as they strode through the fanged bunnies keeping me penned on the steps, those creatures faded from view. The illusion dispersed.

But the minotaurs didn’t.

I can handle them. I’d used my power to fight before.

I tried to cut their futures, only whatever trick I’d used with the ghost eluded me, the strands of possibilities slippery and evading all attempts at cutting. Fine, then I’d throw them into a nightmare of their futures, only I couldn’t find anything to scare them. Making them think they’d die if they got close to me didn’t slow them one bit!

More frightening, they didn’t appear constrained like the fake monsters, seeing as how one of them put a foot on the lowest step.