Mary Thomas meets the Inquisition

Mary Thomas was very pleased with herself that she had solved the riddle. She had always known that you could find an answer to anything with a clear mind and sharp thinking. All she had to do was add 1 and 1 together. After that, it was completely obvious that the mirror was in fact a door.

She had resolutely crossed the threshold. Immediately, she was enveloped in impenetrable darkness. It was cold and strangely velvety, like a smooth, damp fabric that slid over her skin. She lost her firm footing, floating weightlessly in an infinite void.

Then her feet touched hard ground again and she found herself in the **** chamber she had seen through the glass. In the unsteady light of the flickering torches, she recognized a vaulted ceiling above her and rough stone walls around her.

Even if she was satisfied with her logical thinking and correct conclusions, she could not be entirely satisfied with the overall situation. For reasons that were not yet apparent, she had no more clothes on. Or to put it another way: she was stark naked.

Several figures in long robes turned towards her. They would probably have looked puzzled had their faces not been hidden under pointed hoods. But they quickly recovered from their astonishment.

"Grab the witch!" one of them barked and they all rushed towards the woman with outstretched hands, who had from their perspective appeared out of nowhere as unexpectedly as inexplicably. In an instant, she was being held by several torturers.

The speaker scrutinized her carefully through the round eyeholes of his cloth mask. His gaze lingered particularly long on her extremely impressive breasts and the rampant bush in her lap.

"How did you get in here, witch?", he demanded.

Mary Thomas looked at him pityingly and spoke emphatically as if she was talking to a small child.

"Firstly, I don't know. And secondly, and more importantly, I'm not a witch."

"That's exactly what a witch would say."

Even if she couldn't see him scoff, she could hear it in his tone. She took a deep breath to calm herself and then explained in the most reasonable, clear voice she was capable of: "Listen to me carefully. My name is Mary Thomas. I am a nun from the convent of the Sisters of the Order of the Generous Mary. And I assure you that I don't know how I got here - whatever and wherever this place may be - and that I am definitely not a witch. However, I would be very grateful if you could show me where the exit is. And I would be much obliged if you could leave me something to wear."

"Enough blasphemy, witch!" the leader barked, turning to his assistants, "tie her to St. Andrew's Cross. We'll put her through the witch test."