Cynthia lay on the couch staring at the phone on the end table willing it to ring. What was the point of a seduction if the man didn’t feel compelled to come back for more? Cynthia mused. It had been her seduction and yet she felt like the one captivated. She wanted Ed to call. And not merely for the sex, despite the fact that it had been mind blowing.

All her life her Catholic parents had insisted an overt sexuality was sinful but somehow Ed managed to mix spirituality with sexuality. The combination was explosive and provocative. There was a glimpse of something Cynthia had not thought of before. She had denied her parent’s strict upbringing as unwanted personal control with a host of illicit relationships beginning with Eric and culminating in her current live-in relationship with John. It was the coup de grace which severed any obligations she might have felt towards her parents ideals which had constantly suffocated her into a role that had definitely not felt natural to Cynthia. She was a sensual creature who enjoyed the touch and intimacy of men. Not church, nor doctrine nor confessional would change that. Cynthia had come to terms with her sexuality after Eric had set it free, but she had given up her spirituality in the bargain. Even if the relationship had been a dismal failure, she had managed to loose her sexual inhibitions in the process. There seemed to be no return to the earlier, virginal creature she had once been. If her sexual freedom meant an abject lesson in personal control, well, Cynthia thought, Eric probably had done her a favor. Not that she had enjoyed his manipulations. Just that it had made her a fallen woman, very much like Eve: a sensual woman whose eyes were now able to discern the difference between good and evil. She didn’t pity Eve of the Bible, if she had ever existed, which Cynthia would sometimes wonder. Eve made her choices and Cynthia had made hers as well. They had both learned a valuable lesson. To Cynthia, regained innocence was much more valuable than original innocence. To make the choice because one had integrity, not because one was ignorant of evil, that was the true test of a Christian, Cynthia surmised. All else was doctrine not applicable to personal growth and only for the benefit of mass control. Not that Cynthia didn’t believe in God and Jesus, she just didn’t see the sense in creating beings who were ultimately sexual just to have them repress their urges. It was as if God were taunting mankind. If sexuality was such a sin, Cynthia reasoned, why didn’t God just create a human being that could procreate asexually, like an amoebae?

Cynthia paused to shake the thoughts loose In her mind. It was a marvel she even remembered these arguments of so long ago, she noted amused. Her final defiance with John had ended all hopes her parents had of her adherence to "good Catholic morals." Instead they had turned their attentions towards Sr. Mary, proudly pointing out her accomplishments and commitment to the Catholic faith. Sr. Mary had been the affirmation that they had not failed as parents.

Now Cynthia wondered about Ed. He was a healer, he had mentioned to her. His beliefs were beyond anything Cynthia had ever imagined. They seemed almost like science fiction, so strange they were to her. Of course, she didn’t believe them she reasserted to herself. But, beyond his obvious spirituality was a deep sensuality that had no qualms in expressing itself. And at some points, Cynthia wondered if it wasn’t just his spirituality that could trigger her orgasms the way he had. She remembered the dream the night before. He hadn’t even touched her when she had come in his arms prior to his kiss. How did he manage it? She wondered. He had known she was coming and had smiled mischievously as she had ridden the crest of his desire. That had been the first of many such orgasms in the dirtiest piece of real estate she had ever had the fancy to dream. She wanted to test him. Could he do it outside a dream? Was she imagining it? What were these orgasms if they weren’t physical in nature? Her data analyst mind was taking over, tackling the most intriguing experience she had ever had in her life.

The phone ringing knocked her out of her reverie. She couldn’t contain her satisfaction when she realized he had called her after all.

"You want to stop by?" Cynthia guessed as she ignored all decorum in her eagerness.

"Oh, ah, well," Ed tried to sidestep the question, "I really can’t come over today. I’ve got some clients coming in today."

"Oh." Cynthia’s disappointment came over the phone clearly.

"But, I wanted to talk to you. " Ed tried to make up for it. "Do you remember last night?"

"Yes, I remember." Cynthia said warily. She had been dumped before, she was beginning to realize she had played her hand rather poorly. This man was unlike the other men in her life. So why did she expect him to behave like the rest? Cynthia chided herself.

"You do?" Ed’s puzzlement filtered through to her. Of course, Cynthia thought, he still thinks I only have partial memory during daytime!

"I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it as well." Cynthia replied. "How about teaching me that trick?"

"What ‘trick’?" Ed asked cautiously.

"The one where you make me orgasm without touching me." Cynthia replied brightly taking the offensive.

"What makes you think I did that?" Ed laughed heartily a gush of warmth spreading over Cynthia as she listened to his voice.

"Because, well, because it happened didn’t it?" Cynthia began to doubt the dream. It had been a dream after all. Ed’s humor at her revelation wasn’t the response she had expected.

"What happened?" Ed asked politely.

"I miss you, " Cynthia made sure Ed understood her. "Can’t you get away from your patients, just for today?"

"Cynthia, I can’t." Ed sighed.

"What am I going to do all day? I have the day off you know." Cynthia tried to cajole him into changing his mind.

"Meditate." Ed said seriously. "Meditate on your dreams and pray."

"Pray? For what?" Cynthia asked as she felt the fright of last night’s dream return. "Oh my God! I forgot that part! Is Sr. Mary, OK?" Her tennis shoes stamped on the rug as she swung herself off the couch.

"I don’t know," Ed conceded, "pray for her but don’t loose sight of your own predicament. You can’t help her from inside a prison cell. You must take responsibility for your own life and no one else's." Ed said spinning his essence around him tightly protecting himself from her anxiety.

"Get her out!" Cynthia shouted at the receiver as she realized the danger her sister had been in. "Ed you’ve got to let her out!"

"I can’t do that," Ed retorted. "She has to take responsibility for her own actions. No one is the victim here. We all make our own choices."

"Are you crazy?! She’s trapped with that beast and the guards never brought her back. She could be dead!"

"It’s all a dream," Ed reminded her.

"But you never told us how to leave the dream. You said we could leave but you didn’t tell us how. How can you say we have a choice?"

"I didn’t say you could leave. I said there was a way out for those who were trapped. There’s a difference."

"What? How can there be a way out if no one can leave of their own free will."

"If the soul has not been able to free itself of the Tower then at some appointed time there will come the opportunity to reincarnate. If chosen, out of free will the soul is freed from the Tower to climb back into the physical and make a go of it again."

After a stunned moment, Cynthia poked the sentence testing the truthfulness of Ed’s words. "What about you? Do you reincarnate?"

"Even if I do reach the seventh level, I might want to reincarnate." Ed replied.

"And you know the way already, don’t you?" Cynthia thought . "You don’t care about the rest of us because you’re just slumming aren’t you? Choice piece of property that Tower of yours. You’re nothing but a slum lord wringing your wealth from our suffering."

"Reincarnation implies death," Cynthia said softly.

"It also means life," Ed pointed out.

"What good is life after life if it is just full of misery anyway? Heaven is a much better concept."

"No kidding, that's why everyone likes it."

"You hinted at immortality," Cynthia reminded him,"what of that? Is immortality just a succession of deaths and rebirths to you? Doesn't sound fun."

"Immortality is the ability to remember," Ed said, "to learn from past mistakes; to cheat death by continuing where you left off. Freedom is what you seek. That's different."

"I don't get it," Cynthia said. "It sounds like if we don't make it through the Tower we die AND we forget."

Ed didn't reply.

Infuriated that it was his game and he hadn't divulged all the rules, Cynthia tried to manipulate him into telling her more.

"Oh, Ed!" Cynthia managed to flutter his heart, "I hope we can make it out before Sunday night is over. I don’t want to die! I can’t bear the thought of loosing you just as I’ve found you."

Ed remained silent wrestling with his own emotions. He loved that girl too much for his own good. He’d already told her more than she needed to know. He just hadn’t wanted her thinking that he was insensitive to Sr. Mary’s suffering. He had wanted to make her see it was only temporary. "Love, I’ll do my best to see you make it through." He promised her. "Don’t worry, Cynthia," he tried to convince her. "Don’t be sad. Prayer really does help in these situations."

As they hung up the phones Ed concentrated on sending Cynthia all the love he could muster. It wouldn’t explain Sr. Mary’s predicament but it would please Cynthia, he was sure. And she would know he had sent it to her, comforting her if only for a moment.

As Cynthia sat back down to dial the hospital, she felt Ed’s essence whip itself against her enveloping her in his warmth as he invisibly searched out the seat of her sexuality and rose electrically through her sex. Her mind exploded in a love of forgotten boundaries as Ed’s consciousness melded into hers. She gasped then moaned as she realized their union had taken place once again. Her chest heaving, her panties wet from desire, Cynthia looked at the phone again remembering their conversation. Men! She cursed finding herself less disgruntled despite her intentions.

Ed relaxed his concentration. Cynthia was a joy to arouse. Her vibrations flooded him with the most exquisite feelings of tender sexuality. Hopefully she would forget about Sr. Mary and concentrate on her own karma. They only had four days left to complete the Tower and they were behind schedule. This thought hardly bothered Ed. He was the master of the game not the pawn. True, Ara and Mishra, had found it necessary to test him again to pay off a karmic debt but Ed knew he was beyond being trapped in the Tower. He knew the secrets and the exit that awaited them on the seventh level. He had been tested just as all his students had been tested. And in this lifetime he had won the prize. He could leave any time he wanted to, and he would retain the powers he had gained through the successful completion of the Tower. He would retain his memory when and if he next chose to reincarnate. And as a teacher, he would repay any old debts that might keep him earthbound longer.

However, he feared for Cynthia. She was not as advance as he. She had analyzed the situation correctly, he feared. Failure for her would mean death and a forgetting, no doubt. And frankly, he liked this body she now wore. It was very pleasing to him visually. In a way, he was glad he was linked to her during her testing on the second level. He could protect her from the predators he knew were in the Tower. Not like Sr. Mary, he regretted as he remembered the scream and the subsequent commotion in the cell next to theirs. It was her karma to suffer for a past sin, no doubt. But it bothered Ed that the professor had turned so violent so quickly. The guides had said he was socially arrogant and manipulative but had never intimated that Prof. Taslim could be a rapist. One of the perils of the dream world, Ed understood, was the capacity to loose all inhibitions (no matter how socially beneficial) and indulge in the baser fantasies with the justification that dreams weren’t real. Ed heard Sr. Mary scream, something ‘I’ she had hollered. But the commotion that had followed had dampened the sound. Hopefully, the professor’s conscience had berated him when he had woken up today.

Prof. Taslim awoke craving a cup of spiced tea. He didn’t remember where he had ever had tea with cinnamon and cardamom steeped in it, but now that he thought of it, the idea sounded tasty. Searching through the alphabetized spice cabinet he realized that he didn’t have any green cardamom. Green cardamom? Prof. Taslim thought. Where on earth would someone get such a commodity in Boston? He just simply had to try the cup of tea he was envisioning.

After making an impromptu stop at several shopping centers he realized he had to hone his search to something more specialized. Going through the yellow pages he finally located an ethnic Indian market in downtown Boston. He had gunned the Toyota straight at the target location without even pausing to speculate why he suddenly felt so attracted to Indian cuisine. Having arrived he picked up an assortment of crinkling packages filled with stick cinnamon, green and black cardamom.

"Namaste," he had bid the shop keeper he had paid, shrugging off his own astonishment at the Indian greeting coming from his mouth.

Upon arriving back to his redstone apartment building on Beacon Hill, he sat down to fix the cup of tea that had occupied his morning and read the morning paper. Dreadful, he had shaken his head sadly as he read about the elderly lady attacked in her home last night. The hoodlums had beat and raped her after invading her home on the pretense that they were gas workers. She was in critical condition at the St. Patrick's hospital the article stated. Prof. Taslim sipped pensively. Why did the story sound so familiar to him? The tea settled like slightly raw fried dough in his belly as last night’s dream broke through his consciousness. He had raped a woman in his dream last night, he thought astonished. No! He corrected himself, he had tried but failed. Something else had happened. He had been in a prison cell and a guard had intervened. He had killed the man, slitting his head practically off his shoulders. The guilty hands trembled slightly accused by the slopping tea that landed on the saucer beneath. It was all a dream, Prof. Taslim defended himself.

"Oh come on! You enjoyed it! "Manu’s voice jabbed cleanly through Prof. Taslim’s skull.

Startled the cup crashed to the table victimized, an innocent bystander in the midst of a mental drive by shooting. "I most certainly did not!" Prof. Taslim spoke the words into the empty air foolishly.

"Oh yes you did. You loved the way she squirmed under you. You loved the panic and fear she felt. Remember?" Manu was merciless.

"I’m not crazy... I’m not crazy. " Prof. Taslim repeated the protective chant as he tried to shut out Manu’s voice.

"Crazy? Why would you think that? I’m not judging you. I admire a man who can take control over a woman. That’s what they want you know. They want you to show them whose in charge."

As Prof. Taslim felt himself slide into the canyon of his dreams where the emotional river carved a rough and tumble ride for his psyche. "It had felt good to humble that purebred." He admitted to himself. "She had it coming to her when she tricked me on the third level. Revenge was most definitely sweet."

As Prof. Taslim braved the rapids of his dream memories, disgust became replaced by a triumph. He had done it! He had shown her. Glee swept in as he snickered at the joke. It was all a dream so it didn’t matter what he had done.

"It doesn’t matter," Manu agreed. "But, it felt good didn't’ it?"

The water from with the raging river swept over the liferaft soaking Prof. Taslim with the exhilarating sensation of being alive and very dangerous. He began to play with the mad torrent slamming his liferaft into a jutting rock only to feel the sensation of being slightly thrown.

"Yes, " Manu encouraged Prof. Taslim’s abdication to his lower self. "We can have a lot of fun together. You just let me take care of things. When we get back tonight we are going to show everyone what fear really is."

Prof. Taslim spent the day grading test papers and readying himself for the next day’s lecture. After his dinner, he retired to his computer where he spent time surfing the World Wide Web, WWW, on his favorite physics topics and science newsgroups.

There was little outside of Prof. Taslim’s life that did not revolve around his career. His young adulthood had been devoted to the study of physics and academic excellence, partly because he was gifted in this area and mostly because he found himself scarred with a case of pubescent acne that defied all antibiotics. His cheeks and chin had been left a miniature replica of the moon’s surface; cratered and shadowed. Prof. Taslim stroked the beard he now wore to conceal the ravages of his humiliation. Even after the pimples had cleared and he had gone on to grow a beard, Prof. Taslim hadn’t the courage to risk another rejection again. Instead, he had devoted himself to the attainment of wisdom, a woman who was not shallow enough to judge him by his outward appearance. It was in knowledge's bosom that he suckled the truth serum that judged people on their merits and not their luck at being born under a charmed star. He had crusaded for Lady Wisdom until he had obtained his professorship, relishing the long courtship they had danced together. He had derived great pleasure at being the bearer of truths and the unveilor of charlatans until he had made a idol of his blessed bride relishing the times when he could tear down the daydreaming pilgrim, student’s lack of devotion. He had gone on like this for two years, after obtaining his professorship, when his faith had faltered and he had fallen prey to the likes of Mary O’Casey. Their marriage had been short and hardly sweet. She had lasted only long enough to obtain a large chunk of his paycheck in alimony. The experience had taught him one thing about women: they may be stupid at physics but they were shrewd, and heartless about money. He had never let himself trust another one of those creatures again.

"You have it wrong, my friend," Manu interjected Prof. Taslim’s thoughts as they plowed through his e-mail. "You just didn’t control her well enough. Tonight, I will show you how it’s done right."

"Blasted voices!" Prof. Taslim muttered to himself. "As if dreams are real! I’d never go around raping a woman in real life just so I could have my kicks!"

"What makes you think your dreams aren’t as real as your waking life?" Manu laughed derisively. "You’re a wanna-be rapist if I ever saw one."

"I am not!" Prof. Taslim pounded his fists against his temples trying to obliterate the pesky intruder. "Dreams aren’t real. They don’t matter!"

"You think so? What if I could prove to you that Sr. Mary is real? Would you be pleading your innocence still? Or would you lunge yourself at her at the first opportune moment?"

"You can’t do that." Prof. Taslim’s voice cracked as he sweated the possibility. First the dreams and now the voices, he had feared he was going mad. But, if he found Sr. Mary alive, it would prove most scientifically he wasn’t crazy. Instead, it would suggest he had stumbled upon another dimension of unlimited potential.

"You had the answer in your own mind," Manu chuckled at the Professor’s apparent lack of deductive skills. "How many hospitals in Boston do you suppose have Maryknoll Sisters working in them?"

Prof. Taslim’s fingers stopped paralyzed over the keyboard. The voice of reason, was right again, he thought. The girl, Cynthia, Sr. Mary’s sister, said she wanted to wake back up in Boston. Sr. Mary had mentioned she was a Maryknoll sister that worked as a doctor in a hospital. Why not Boston? It would be worth it to check it out. He finished answering his e-mails, closed out of his computer and got ready for bed. Prof. Taslim’s mind whirled with a variety of thoughts awaiting the unexpected moment when Manu’s voice would plow in unbidden. But, Manu seemed to have been content to cause the civil war waging in Prof. Taslim’s head without taking sides on the matter. He was merely the arms dealer who could supply either side with ammunition as long as it paid him back in currency he found valuable. The only drawback was that Prof. Taslim felt the anxieties of wartime as he tossed and turned his guilty conscience up in the air. "Get on with it," Manu wanted to shout at Prof. Taslim, from within the confines of his new body. "Get to sleep! I’ve been waiting for my revenge long enough!" But instead he kept silent, unwilling to disturb the final descent into sleep any further. Finally at midnight, the Professor let the matter rest and fell into a sound, heavy sleep.

Jasmine’s hands met in prayer at her forehead as she aligned the bolts of lightning falling from her mind towards the chosen target. Manu, in complete control of Prof. Taslim’s form, hovered next to her watching her delightedly. The blue and gold Sari, Lokmi wore wafted into billowy cushions as they flew about the kingdom etching chasms of oblivion around the palace walls as the lightening erased the countryside in a single swipe. Nothing remained on either side of the direct hit but a void of unknowable depths.

"Remarkable! Let me try." Manu exclaimed.

Upon saying this, he gathered the hate in his mind, and released it with vengeance on the citizenry below. The panicked merchants trying to set up in the early morning hours scattered at the onslaught, carts and produce strewn about the street as they ran to evade the magical torrent. The daggers of light shattered against the dirt marketplace pitting the street with divine shrapnel from above.

As they neared the closed ramparts of the castle defenses, Lokmi took the lead walking through the spray of arrows to blithely fade her way through the red stained walls. As her form dissolved into the walls, emerging on the other side, she paused awaiting Manu. Grinning sheepishly he came forward uncertain that the shield Lokmi had fashioned for him for his protection would not suddenly dissolve as he started towards the outer defenses. The arrows flew through his body unaware they had actually met their target. Rejoicing at their invincibility, Manu walked triumphantly through the closed Elephant gate and made his way to the Prince’s council room with Lokmi.

They found Prince Akbar flanked by guards as his hands tensed to the chair beneath him. He stared dispassionately, accepting his fate, as his uninvited guests arrived. There was Lokmi, as he remembered her now paired with the demon Manu. A great evil had been unleashed just as Lokmi had predicted it many years ago. And she was the source of that evil!

"On your knees, peasant!" Manu’s voice echoed disrespectfully at the Prince. The guards moved to surround their charge with their lives.

"Ladies first, " Lokmi laughed as she took care of the guards, blowing a gust of arctic wind across them, freezing them in place. As the rush of the wind died down, she stepped aside to let Manu have his day.

"At last!" Manu shouted his hands victoriously above him. "Your kingdom is mine! The king is dead! Bow down to your new king!"

"NEVER!" Spat the Prince at Manu outraged at the usurping of his princely role.

"You will beg me to allow you the honor of bending your knee when I am through with you." Manu’s words hissed from Prof. Taslim’s mouth in venomous rage. "Take him to the cell I once occupied."

The guards frozen in place made no effort to comply to the order. "At least your companions are dead! We’re using them for target practice as we now speak." Prince Akbar flung his final defiance at the intruders. "You’ve always been a traitor, Manu! But Lokmi," the prince tried to appeal one more time to his former confidante, "I trusted you!"

"She does as I tell her to," Manu stepped in between them. "She knows who her king is. Lokmi, have him taken to my cell and tortured. We will visit him later when it amuses us."

The prince, horrified, plead to Lokmi’s mercy with his eyes but she refused to meet them. With a gesture of her hand, two guards were released as faithful servants to Manu. They took hold of the prince who struggled against them.

"Make sure he remains alive. Remove an eye if you must, but keep him alive for our entertainment. Oh, and don’t forget that devil Perdeep! Arrest him but don’t touch him until I can be there later. " Manu directed his new army as they led the prince away to his fate in the palace prisons.

"Sit down, my love," Lokmi directed Manu to the Prince’s chair. "Let me sit at your feet and worship you."

The cord of light swung on her left side trailed along with a slit of black at which point the cord disappeared into Manu’s dark haunt. Manu sat upon the chair as if he were in the Throne room itself. They listened to the commotion outside the palace walls while Jasmine kissed the soles of Manu’s feet enraptured.

Rising suddenly, Manu was struck by a piece of information he had almost forgotten. "Hey! Let’s go watch the target practice of your fellow travelers!"

As Manu bounded to his feet enticed by the ensuing spectacle, Lokmi refused to rise with him. "Manu, we will have plenty of entertainment later. The prince will satisfy you more than a mere stranger could." Lokmi tried to reason with her king. "It is difficult to maintain control over so many people. Let me rest, so that I can better protect you."

He pulled up Lokmi forcefully wrenching her wrist in the process. "We do as I say. You will watch your friends die and prove your loyalty to me. What are they compared to me? Am I not your beloved?"

Sighing, Lokmi went with him obediently to the outside gardens and into the practice area, pushing him to the rear as she kept an eye out lest she fail in protecting him. Everywhere they went Lokmi would charm the guards into bowing to Manu as the new sovereign of the land. Arriving at the weapons practice they saw some palace guards tying Cynthia to one pole and Ed to another. Seeing Jasmine coming towards them unperturbed and unharmed while the guards bowed towards them, Cynthia almost cried with relief.

"Oh, Thank God! Jasmine!" Cynthia blurted before she realized Prof. Taslim was walking behind her. "Tell Ed here it’s in our interests to leave now!"

"Not so fast!" Prof. Taslim swept in front of Jasmine’s long flowing Sari unexpectedly laughing at Cynthia’s ill-placed confidence. "Don’t leave now! Please...I haven’t the chance of shooting you myself."

With a menacing gleam in his eyes, Manu took the bow and arrows proffered by a newly converted guard. Directing his aim at the teacher, he found the target most unappealing in bravura.

"Ed, the instigator! Prof. Taslim told me about you!" Manu pointed the arrow back towards the ground. "You thought you were above this! Maybe you think you still are."

Ed’s green eyes refused to flinch at the implication.

"Are you not proud of your student?" Manu waved Jasmine, his trophy, in Ed’s face as he stood bound before him. "Is she not spectacular? So knowledgeable! I will learn much from her."

Cynthia stood transfixed at Manu’s obvious power over Jasmine. "Is it true, Jasmine? Are you helping this beast? What has he done with Sr. Mary?"

Jasmine shrugged nonchalantly refusing to be drawn into any emotional involvement.

"Nothing she didn't deserve," Prof. Taslim reasserted his innocence. "She's not dead yet but when I get through with her she'll wish she was." Cynthia turned to stare pleadingly at Ed who remained stoic to the last. "He won’t help you." Manu shrugged at Ed’s disinterest. "He’s a sorcerer, same as Lokmi and myself - except he’s a weak-willed, gentle white sorcerer. " Manu spat his disgust for the man out visibly. "He would rather die than harm anyone or anything. Am I not right?" Manu sneered at Ed openly.

"There are laws even for sorcerers. If you were a true 'sorcerer' you would know that." Ed tried to teach the wayward soul he was confronted by. "The effect you have on others will come back to be the cause of your own undoing. It is karma."

"S’that so?" Manu said angrily, as he toyed with the pointed arrowhead on the shaft he was holding. "I have a puzzle for you then. Tell me," Manu tensed the arrow against the bowstring as he aimed it at Ed’s heart and then swiftly shifted it towards Cynthia."if you allow this girl to die even though you have the power to stop me, what will you receive good or bad karma?"

The arrow slipped from the string flying smoothly to its target, as Lokmi, Ed and Cynthia watched. In the path of its trajectory Lokmi saw the puzzle of her own existence unravel as she traced the anguish along Ed’s face. He would let her die and it would not be easy. Cynthia shut her eyes to the impending jolt. From out of the bushes sprang Sister Mary, flinging herself into the path of the arrow. Shrieking, she fell to the ground the arrow jutting out of her forearm.

Enraged at this interruption, Manu dropped the bow and fueled his hands with smoking balls of smog that he launched at the offensive savior.

"Enough!" Lokmi snapped to full consciousness as her spell met Manu’s magic in a resounding mid-air collision before Manu’s sorcery could devastate Sr. Mary.

"LOKMI!!!" Manu swung around shrieking at her betrayal. Launching a bolt of lightening he scarred the hem of her Sari as the bolt struck at her feet. "You do as I say or your love will pay for it!" Manu demanded her obedience.

Bringing her hands prayerfully to her brow, Lokmi inhaled deeply as she prepared to control her own destiny. "For better or for worse, I do as I choose not as others say." The fluorescent flash that sped out of her mind exploded in a mist of gold, a rain of glitter, that erased the dream scenery forever leaving them on a plateau of white bathed in daylight.

"What have you done?" Manu demanded furious that his captives were now released, his toys had been taken away, Sr. Mary stood unharmed the arrow missing from her arm. He stared menacingly at Lokmi who stood apologetically before him.

"I tried to help you." Lokmi sighed heavily admitting her guilt of long ago to the assembly. "You were trapped in the Tower of Dreams and I came to try and free you initially. You were my most promising student and as such I cherished you and wanted to protect you. But, in trying to save you from your own karma, I merely trapped myself within it. I became deluded by my great powers and believed myself in reality back at the palace. I forgot I was dreaming. Then when I discovered how to conjure the Colis shell on this level, I realized what had happened. It brought me back the memories of all my lives and I realized I had been dreaming for too long. That day as I pondered what to do you slipped into the alcove and spun yourself close to madness at the truth hidden in the Colis shell. Feeling responsible for our entrapment and now your leap into insanity, I gave you the gift of the third eye - the power to create illusion and meet magic with magic. By creating your life from your own beliefs I had hoped to stabilize you into a comfortable role. So you see, everything was an illusion of our own creation. And now the illusion is gone."

"SHUT-UP!!!" Manu screamed impotently at Lokmi, unwilling to hear the truth. "You’re lying! You traitoress! The Colis shell holds secrets only for women, that's why it attacked me. You told me so."

"No, you thought that and I didn't dissuade you. You were protecting yourself from the truth you were not ready to hear."

"This is another trick like when you left me to Prince Akbar's mercy!"

"I am sorry that happened," Lokmi admitted. "Your mind was so disrupted by the Colis shell that it created negative thoughtforms which took on a life of their own. The prince was nothing more than a thoughtform from your own mind trying to convince you of something you didn’t want to believe. Manu, you died over 1000 years ago."

"I died, yes, I know!" Manu swore at her ignorance, "when the prince had me executed. I figured that out right away. Of course, my body is dead. But see I have a new one. I will return to my homeland and my family."

"Manu, you died over a millenia ago," Jasmine answered calmly. "You died when you became trapped in the Tower of Dreams."

"No, its not true," Manu whispered as Prof. Taslim confirmed the truth as he tried to regain control of his body. He flooded Manu with so many images of the time that had passed, the advancements in science, medicine and travel that Manu was sent reeling with his hands on his head trying to block them out. "My family? My home?" Manu began to realise all that he identified with was gone forever.

"I left you," Lokmi continued, "because the only way to free you was to reincarnate. I saw it in the Colis shell. My error was in trying to save you when you transgressed against the Colis shell. I would not let you reap your karma. By giving you power from the sixth level, instead of protecting you, I corrupted you and tied you to this level and me along with you. The evil I saw in the Colis shell was me. I caused the evil."

"I want you to remember that, Lokmi" Manu said slowly as the Phoenix arose from the ashes of truth. "It is your disobedience that will cause evil to your love that I hold in my power."

"Manu," Lokmi’s honest blue eyes stared his anger down. "Ed gave me the answer to the puzzle. I don’t ‘allow’ you to hurt anyone. You choose for yourself. The karma is yours not mine. Only when I take it on as my responsibility do I incur bad karma, no matter what I choose."

"Yassov will plead for death many times over. You will hear his shrieks for mercy in your sleep. I will make sure he haunts you for what you’ve done today."
Manu opened the gateway to his dimension of death and stepped through fleeing from the radiant light of Lokmi’s illusionless landscape.

As the survivors to Jasmine’s dreams stood looking about them, Cynthia finally turned to Ed and asked him the question that had been scourging a volcanic path of hatred inside. "You really were going to let me get shot weren’t you?"

Ignoring the insinuation in her tone, Ed turned to Jasmine acknowledging her new status. "Congratulations, Jasmine. Looks like you get to go to church on Sunday!" Ed laughed. "And don’t fret, Yassov will never hate you. Your link to him is too strong."

"Oh, he’s all right!" Jasmine flashed a smile that belied her cleverness. "I’m just not sure what to do about that box Manu put him in. I had to move the whole thing while Manu was busy with you guys. Got any ideas, teach?"

Ed waved his hand and Yassov appeared before them unharmed, astonished at the sudden change of events.

"Sure," Cynthia muttered to Sr. Mary as they stood behind watching them convene merrily. "He’ll do it for another man, but not for me." As the words fell from her lips a surge of black spat through the cord between Ed and Cynthia. As it flushed into Ed’s wrist band he turned to look behind at her knowingly.

"It’s on to level three for us, Cynthia." Ed said mysteriously as he put out his hand, welcoming the appearance of the prismatic colored Colis shell within it. "I will be your guide."

Jasmine pulled up her arm to bring the cord between Yassov and herself into view. It disappeared. "My own tests are completed. I have remembered myself and the other lives when I completed other levels. I have only the seventh remaining. The third level will explain it to you. A bond of light is never gone, " she reassured Yassov.

Yassov searched her eyes wondering what it was that made Jasmine so familiar to him. He shouldn’t have cared that she was leaving even before they really met, but he felt a sadness at her sudden departure. Shrugging, he left the question open between them.

Sr. Mary rubbed her wrist as she remembered the once odious link she had suffered with Prof. Taslim. "What about a black bond?" She asked. "Will it come back?"

"That depends on you." Ed assured her. "Right now, your karma is balanced."

"The jailer, Hassim..." Sr. Mary began to reason it out. "Beheaded, like Prof. Taslim on the third level. But, this time, it was his unselfishness that caused his death. That’s when the link dissolved."

"Another seeker repaying karma in the Tower of Dreams, possibly." Jasmine informed her.

"What about our link?" Cynthia demanded of Ed. "When does it come off?"

"You have to decide that." Ed said succinctly. "Better decide sooner than later how you feel about me. You have only three more days left before Sunday."

"Am I to go to the third level again? That’s where Prof. Taslim and I got linked in the first place." Sr. Mary asked apprehensively eyeing the Colis shell with distrust.

"You will go to whatever level you are ready for now." Ed informed her. "Fly to the edges of your dream. When you leave the dream you will be where you should be. "

"And what of Prof. Taslim?" Sr. Mary asked radiating forgiveness now that she understood her role in the drama that had ensued. "What will happen to Prof. Taslim if he doesn’t make it out of this level by Sunday?"

"He will be trapped like Manu was. Hopefully, Prof. Taslim will accept his physical death better than Manu and choose to reincarnate."

Manu drew back the dark, velvet curtain to the Seer’s alcove. The power of illusion was formidable. All he had to do was remember the room as he had envisioned it earlier and it had appeared in front of him. Now he took the steps into the chamber, daring the Colis shell to lead him to the truths that Lokmi had said were evident there. He would navigate both Prof. Taslim and his own lives, unhampered by his unwillingness to accept his death this time. And through this experience, he would gain not only another level of the Tower of Dreams, but hopefully the final prize awaiting on the seventh level.

"Whatever you desire will be your prize," Manu remembered Ed telling Prof. Taslim. Unlimited power, that’s what Manu wanted. He wanted revenge against all the magicians who treated him like a child. He was not a child, he was a powerful sorcerer. He would prove that to them. He would hunt them down in the waking world where he knew how to best exploit his special brand of sorcery. And the girl Cynthia was the key. Manu hadn’t failed to notice the link between Ed and Cynthia. They were bound souls. The nun would lead him to her sister. Cynthia would be far easier to control once she knew her sister’s life was at stake. Manu would see if Cynthia would be as brave with another person’s life as Ed had been with hers when it was no longer a dream. She would be the sorcerer’s downfall. With Ed under his power, Manu could not be denied the respect of other magicians. He belonged with them. With the key to the seventh level he wouldn’t just be a sorcerer. He would be the high priest of sorcerers.