Holidays are Hell

The Tulpa, oblivious, went on. "Think how devoted the mind would be if we could form specific neural pathways and manipulate a person's thoughts from birth on. My children," he said, arms again wide, "will make Wyatt's mind look like a shrunken head."

And that was how he planned on manipulating time. Using the chi of dozens of young, trained minds, he would bend natural law, and make reality conform to his wishes. Why not? Stranger things had happened.

"But how do you keep them so docile?" Zoe asked, playing dumb as the Tulpa motioned her to the front of the classroom.

"We limit their choices and experiences." He grinned as he whirled to face her. "And we provide examples of what happens to those who attempt treachery."

The Tulpa's grin dropped, along with the floor beneath Zoe. She yelped, free-falling and above her the previously mute children let out a collective cheer. Somehow, the evidence of health and life didn't warm her.

Chapter 7

The drop was short, and she hit solid concrete, unsettling enough dust to have her coughing in the complete dark. Her first hint that she wasn't alone was the threatening growl that came from her left. As if she didn't already feel threatened enough. She swung around as an insistent whine and heavy panting emerged, closer to her right.

Wardens.

Fear reared instinctively. The animals sensed it, and the whining strengthened. But fear can still be attributed to my humanity, Zoe thought, whirling blindly again. Who wouldn't be afraid, trapped in a dark underground pound?

"Uh… babe?" she tried, revealing her fear and all-too-human nerves in the shake of her voice.

"Still alive, then?" the Tulpa asked casually from directly above. Zoe looked up and saw his slim outline blocking the dim light from the children's classroom.

The question was telling. It meant he hadn't expected her to be. She felt a sniffling along her arm, a wet nose, then the tentative lick of a very large tongue. The Shadow wardens were dogs, paranormal pets that could scent out enemy agents and rip them apart in seconds. They were the only things, other than conduits, that could actually kill an agent. Well, thought Zoe looking up again, conduits, wardens… and the Tulpa.

"Clearly. But, and this is just a wild guess, I take it you have some other questions for me?"

"I have one." Then his voice was in her ear. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

And one after another, four giant spotlights boomed to life, flooding the cave with light so bright Zoe had to cover her face. The wardens whimpered, their claws scratching as they scampered blindly away. Zoe fished for the shades she'd dropped in her pocket and slipped them back on. Her eyes still teared as the light assaulted her from beyond the lenses, but she could finally make out the perimeter of the room… and it chilled her to the bone.

It was a stupa, a building in the Tibetan tradition meant to honor Buddha. The Tulpa had always meant to build one… but his, he'd said, would be dedicated solely to himself. Zoe had researched the subject when she'd lived with him, so she knew there were three types of stupas: ones to commemorate events or occasions in Buddha's—or, in this case, the Tulpa's—life. Ones erected to gain favor… but those were generally small and this was anything but. Finally, there were those used for the burial of relics from a funeral pyre. Zoe felt the grit caked beneath her fingernails from her abrupt landing and swallowed hard.

Yep, she thought, looking up. The room was cone-shaped, indicating solar worship. There was also an altar to her right. And while most burial stupas held vessels containing the bones and ashes from a crematorial fire, Zoe didn't look for them. The entire room was the vessel. All that was missing was fire.

"I mean, you must think I'm stupid," he went on, voice circling her like a vulture from above. He was circumambulating, walking in a clockwise direction, reflecting the movement of the sun and rotating planets. Zoe fought back the whimper that wanted to come. "I have to admit you caught me by surprise, just waltzing up and knocking on the door that way. That was a stroke of brilliance, as was the way you've obviously clothed yourself in humanity. But it only means you're that much easier to break… I'll have to be careful if I want our time together to last."

She wrapped her arms around her middle. "So you don't believe me."

The understatement of the year.

"Believe that you went to my creator intending to free me? To name me?" Outrage made his voice shake, but his outline above had gone unnaturally still. "No, Zoe. I know you went there believing that his life, and death, was linked to my own."

She jerked her head. "But you'd broken free of him! You already had enough consciousness and ability to rule the mortal and supernatural plane. I knew that. So why risk killing the creator only to leave behind my signature scent?"