"We believe the third awakening of Beryl plans to attack," said Mamoru as he coursed down the passageway toward the dreaded south-west wing. "But we don't know when or how." He was flanked by officials from Crystal Kyoto, Kobe and Osaka, all in formal, military dress.
"One cannot convince me she has enough power to launch an assault," said the official from Kyoto. "--now that we have the fortune of a new dragon with us."
"I'm sure she doesn't," said Mamoru.
"How does she plan to acquire the necessary energy to even hope for victory? We've been monitoring youma activity in Tokyo, and have seen almost nothing. It's been very quiet down on Earth."
Mamoru nodded. "Too quiet." It had been three months now since he had brought Zoisite here. Since then, he had seen no sign of Kunzite anywhere in Tokyo. He wondered, had Beryl killed him?
"The minor demons we've caught have been nothing but petty spies," said the official. "What's going on?"
They rounded a corner, where late morning sun filtered in through patterns of goldfish and dragons in the fret-work along the top of the window screens. It warmed the straw mats under Mamoru's bare feet, as well as the strips of cedar batten over his head. He noticed that painted scrolls of cool, mountain streams had replaced those of kitchen hearths and sun-dried deserts. Suddenly, his ceremonial uniform with its full coat of red and blue brocade, its long sleeves and the girdle that bore an engraved wakizashi short sword instead of a flute, felt too heavy and hot for summer. Or was Mamoru just sweating over what he was about to do?
They paused at the entrance to the south-west wing.
"Is this where the arch demon Zoisite is kept?" said the official from Kobe.
"Hai," said Mamoru, wishing his servants would be more discreet about his "guest." "And here is where I must leave you, to perform my daily duty."
"We all desire to accompany our gracious emperor. None of us has ever seen an arch demon."
With a deep sigh, Mamoru said, "I would not subject you to this ordeal."
"But we have heard that the demon Zoisite's beauty surpasses that of angels."
Mamoru winced. "It is an outward beauty only. She is Jigoku to her very soul. And, as you are all my friends, I would rather suffer dishonor than put you in harm's way."
"Arigato," murmured the bowing officials, obviously disappointed. "Good health and long life to our gracious emperor." They were slow and hesitant in leaving, perhaps hoping Mamoru would change his mind.
When they finally disappeared around the corner, Mamoru shook his head and grinned in spite of the "duty" that lay ahead. He wondered if he would ever get used to imperial court life. Maybe Minako was right; maybe he could use a day or two at the video arcade.
A frightened shriek scattered that thought. He rushed into the south-west wing to find a servant woman running from Zoisite's room into the corridor, screaming in pain and trying to pull off her soaked tunic.
"What happened?" said Mamoru.
"It was Zoisite!" said Makoto of Jupiter, pushing past him to help the woman, who was thrashing her scalded arms about wildly. "Zoisite threw the bowl of soup at her!"
Mamoru shoved the door screen wide open. "Zoisite! Make ice now!"
Even with her powers drained, there were some things Zoisite could still do, but only if her captors commanded it. Mamoru dodged a sharp ice crystal that shot out of the room and stuck in the wood panel of the corridor wall. He wrenched it free and melted it over the servant's burned skin.
"Get her to a healer!" he said to a second woman, who quickly led the crying chamber servant away.
"We should wake up Ami of Mercury!" said one of the bystanders.
Mamoru cut her off with a sharp sweep of his hand. "No one is to disturb Ami from her bedchamber during her rest hours! That is the new rule!"
Suddenly, Mamoru heard chanting and looked down to see Rei's grandfather in his temple robe, waving his bell wand and hopping from foot to foot. The elder priest was so short, it was sometimes hard to notice him until he started making noise. But after jumping into one of his incomprehensible charm-dances, the old man stopped after a few hops. He coughed and wheezed to catch his breath, then shook his head and said, "This is a tough one. I'm getting too old for these kinds of battles. I'm going back to my shrine in Tokyo." With a brief but blinding flash of indigo, Rei's grandfather vanished, bells and all.
Mamoru blinked.
"I'll take care of Zoisite!" said Makoto. She stomped back into Zoisite's room, slamming the door screen shut behind her, which knocked a hanging basket of peaches from a peg on the corridor wall.
Through the panels, Mamoru could hear a shouting match, then a crash that sounded like a breakfast trivet sailing through a clerestory window, the thud and splatter of flying peaches, and a shrill, demonic scream followed by sobs.
He quietly, discreetly backed out of the south-west wing, deciding that this was not the best time for a visit.
Mamoru found it comfortingly cool under the low, pine batten ceiling of his throne pavilion, which sat isolated between gardens in the palace courtyard. The panels of this simple, lone room were made of knotted koa wood that was so translucently thin, they glowed soft and pink under the midday June sun.
Kneeling alone on the cushioned floor mat of his dais, Mamoru could gaze out past the covered verandah at a single juniper tree that wept over a pocked, gray stone. In the tokonoma recess to his right, the most vibrant spray of cherry blossoms Mamoru had ever beheld opened its petals, begging for his attention. He actually felt a queasy pang of guilt for not wanting to look at it.
With a sigh, Mamoru thought to fill the silence with a melody. He shifted to fetch his flute from behind the dais, but upon returning to his place, he noticed Luna under the entrance lintel.
"Not now, Luna. Can't you see--"
"I must talk to you, Mamo-kun."
Mamoru lay the flute across his lap as Luna stepped inside and seated herself before the dais, neatly curling her tail.
"Urgent matters concerning this household," said the cat.
"I'm listening."
"Zoisite is most unhappy here."
"Well," said Mamoru. "We're not exactly enthralled by her presence either."
"She cries all night, and the little sleep she does get is haunted by terrors. She won't eat, and now, at three months along, she is starting to get the morning sickness. Sometimes quite severe. Ami now adds dehydration to her list of fears for Zoisite."
"These . . . night terrors. Has Zoisite described any of them?"
"No. Why do you ask?" said Luna.
"N-nothing," said Mamoru. "Just curious to wonder what Zoisite could have nightmares about." Mamoru felt beads of cold sweat under his collar.
"Ami always tries to ask her, but Zoisite refuses to tell, as if every night she faces an ordeal too horrible to share."
Mamoru bit his lip and said nothing.
"Then there are the thorns--"
"You know there's nothing I can do about that without Zoisite's consent!" snapped Mamoru. "And I've tried every day to change her mind, every argument I can think of, and if she wouldn't be so damned stubborn--"
"Mamo--"
". . . but she screams every time I show my face, and I don't know what to do about it, okay? I'm at my wit's end!"
"Mamoru! No one is accusing you! There's no need to get defensive with me!" Luna hopped up onto the dais and rested her paw on Mamoru's knee. "I know you've tried to help. I've seen."
Mamoru swallowed. "You, you've been in Zoisite's room?"
"I am usually in Zoisite's room, although I'm not often noticed."
"Oh."
Luna's steady eyes shown like two yellow jewels. "I think, Mamo-kun, if I may offer counsel, that more sympathy for Zoisite might help."
"Sympathy? She just threw scalding-hot soup on a poor, innocent chamber servant! I'm sorry, Luna, but my sympathy is wearing thin for that . . . that . . . "
" 'Vicious, little fiend?' " said Luna.
Mamoru felt the color drain from his face. He stared down at his flute.
"Why is there so much hatred between you two, Mamoru? I know Zoisite deserted your guard and turned traitor, and I know you took the power crystals she had gathered for the second awakening of Beryl, but is there something else? You've never despised Kunzite or the other dark lords this much. And why does Zoisite carry such venom for you?"
"I don't despise her," said Mamoru. "I mean, I know I said that, but that's just because she got me so angry!"
Luna regarded him with dark silence.
Mamoru started wringing his hands. "Look, I don't like seeing her in pain. I don't like seeing anyone in pain. Luna, isn't there something we can do? What about Usagi's scepter? Couldn't we just wave that Crescent--"
"No one but Usagi is to handle the Crescent Moon Wand!" said Luna.
"Then why hasn't she used it on Zoisite yet? I thought that thing could cure anybody."
"It neutralizes evil."
"Yeah? Isn't that just what Zoisite needs?"
"Then what would be left?" said Luna. "Darkness is Zoisite's only strength. Steal it from her, and you leave her completely weak and vulnerable, with nothing to defend what little there may be of her heart. Such an act of good intention could ultimately destroy any chance of goodness in her. One sour look from Beryl, and Zoisite would fall lower than the meanest youma."
"Then, then what can I do?"
"Ask your heart," said Luna, turning to leave. "I don't have that answer. All I can say is that hatred divides a house, and a divided house cannot stand against the third awakening of Beryl."
Luna padded noiselessly out of the pavilion and into the bright sun.
Mamoru dropped his face into his hands. "Usagi," he whispered. "What do I do?" There were more meetings with officials, but they could wait. Mamoru had to see Usagi. Even if she didn't have any solutions, at least he could rest in her arms for a while. And maybe Luna was exaggerating; what could a cat know about the Crescent Moon Wand anyway?
"You're a demon and a traitor," said the unsummoned, phantom voice. "Who would believe you?"
Makoto of Jupiter's hands felt like those of one who pulled rope for a living--rough and strong. Her right would swiftly ball into a fist that could strike like a rock. Zoisite was learning to counter her moves, but still took it across the cheek every now and then, as she had just a few hours earlier, after the hot soup mess.
Makoto was almost as tall as Zoisite, had the same green eyes, and wore her hair in the same kind of pony-tail, with two locks curling down in front of her ears. When Zoisite had learned from the servants that Makoto had grown up unpopular, and had once been expelled from middle school for fighting, it made her blows (although still painful) easier to bear, as if Zoisite now shared some odd kind of bond with her.
And Ami . . . Her cool hands were almost blue-white, soft as a lily petal. By a healer's instinct, Ami's gentle fingertips would always reach for hurting places. The look in her deep, dark eyes, which Zoisite had at first taken for scorn, was really the contemplation of one who sees through the contrived layers of what is commonly called truth and justice.
"Stand up, Zoë," said Makoto, kicking the futon that spread across the corner of Zoisite's freshly cleaned room.
"No. It hurts too much."
"Don't be a baby. If Mamo's not going to let Usagi come here, then we've gotta sneak you out to Usagi."
"She'll make you feel better, if only for a little while," said Ami, supporting Zoisite under her arms, trying to ease her to her feet. "We should have done this long ago."
Zoisite tried to stand, to please Ami, but the thorns were now spreading into her legs, stabbing long needles of pain down her muscles. With a cry, she fell against Ami and sank to her knees, clutching at Ami's light blue tunic.
"Mako-chan," said Ami. "You're going to have to carry her."
"I figured that."
"Isn't the tea pavilion outside?" said Zoisite.
"Yes," said Ami, wrapping Zoisite in a large, pink kimono she had swiped from the laundry. "But don't worry about the sunlight. We'll keep you covered."
Then Makoto hoisted Zoisite over her shoulder, while Ami peeked out into the corridor. Zoisite yelped because it hurt; every little movement hurt.
"Shut up!" said Makoto.
"I'm not a sack of rice!" cried Zoisite.
Ami put one finger to her lips. "It's all clear. Let's go."
Outside, as the three skulked along a hidden garden path toward the tea pavilion, Zoisite sweated under the full sun beating down like punishment on her. She could feel her scalp burning along the line of her parted bangs.
"Ow! Oh! Cover my head!"
"Sorry," said Ami, flipping a length of the pink kimono back over Zoisite's head.
"Filtered light is okay, but--"
"We know!" snapped Makoto. "Quit squirming!" Makoto shifted her load to the other shoulder, making Zoisite scream. "Shut up! We'll be spotted!"
"Mako-chan," said Ami. "Stop glancing about; it looks suspicious."
"And carrying a screaming, kicking person wrapped in a sheet doesn't?"
"My feet!" cried Zoisite. "The bottoms of my feet!"
"Sorry." Ami quickly covered Zoisite's feet.
Through an opening in her silk shroud, Zoisite watched a procession of jagged paving stones stagger clumsily beneath her. They were slowly ascending, climbing around clusters of blooming azaleas.
"Are you sure this is still a path?"
"It's not often used," said Ami. "But hold on. We're almost there. If you look across the foot bridge, you can see the pavilion."
"It's in a tree?" Zoisite squinted. They had been following along a natural ledge, and the narrow, wooden bridge before them led up to a structure the size of a child's fort, built in and around the branches of a large, gnarled tree.
Through the flutter of white and purple catalpa blossoms, Zoisite could just make out sturdy walls of clay and timber, almost rude in simplicity, with a plain, low-pitched, thatch roof and only a few, small window openings.
She recognized Minako of Venus posted outside in an orange and white guardian's uniform. For a senshi, Minako never looked very dangerous, with her sweet face and waist-length, blonde hair, but those who were fooled by her appearance soon learned. Zoisite had certainly been a quick study.
"Halt!" shouted Minako-Venus, planting her staff in the foot of the bridge.
"We've come to see Usagi," called Makoto.
"She's doing the tea ceremony with Rei, and can't be bothered!"
Zoisite peeked out from under her hood and met Minako's eyes.
"Zoisite!" cried Minako. "It's about time you paid us a visit! Get in here!"
As Minako slid the door open, Zoisite could hear Usagi talking to Rei.
" . . . and then we add the chocolate-chip ice cream."
"Ice cream? That's not part of the traditional tea ceremony!"
"It's part of mine! Hee hee!"
"Look who's here!" said Minako, yanking the sheet from Zoisite.
"Sunlight!" screamed Zoisite. Makoto dived for the entrance, but tripped over a branch. The three tumbled inside, with Zoisite crumpling into the corner of the small, dark room. The pain of impact was so blinding, she could barely catch the breath to howl.
Ami knocked the tea utensils into the ash pit, rushing over to Zoisite.
"Watch it!" barked Rei.
"Oh, forget the tea!" said Usagi, landing on Zoisite with a full-body tackle. "Oof! This is more important!"
Zoisite felt as if spikes were poking out of her, until Usagi started passing her magical hands over Zoisite's body. Again, there was that delicious melting she had experienced back when she had first arrived. Only this time, the release was even stronger, more soothing. Usagi was pressing her palms over Zoisite's stomach, then up her sides and under her arms, over her legs and knees.
"Sorry I fell on you," said Usagi, patting her own, swollen belly. "And you thought I was a klutz before!" Usagi was dressed more plainly now, with her hair up in the familiar "meat balls."
"You, you talk differently than when I saw you last . . . you're more like your old, Earth self."
Usagi shrugged inside her blue and red hemp-cloth tunic. "It's the clothes. I'm not wearing that ceremonial court robe. Besides, the longer we stay here in Crystal Yedo, the less power it has over us. Although I hope I'm at least a little less ditzy than I was back on Earth."
"Same eating habits," said Rei, pulling a dollop of chocolate-chip ice cream out of her hair. "If you add pickles." She threw it at Usagi.
"Hey!"
"Where's the carton?" said Makoto. "I'm starved!"
"In the ash pit," said Rei, "where Ami kicked it."
"I didn't mean to."
Makoto fished out the carton. "Looks good to me."
"Give some to Zoë," said Minako, grabbing it away. "She could use it."
Zoisite sat up. With Usagi so near, she felt well. Almost good. She liked this dimly lit, close space. "I've never had ice cream. How does one eat it?"
"You lick it off the end of your nose," said Minako. She shoved her fingers into the carton, drew out a melting glob and pitched it at Zoisite's face, laughing.
"Minako!" cried Usagi.
Minako crawled over the soft, straw mat to Zoisite's corner and said, "Are you still hurting?"
"Not right now."
"Good."
"Thank you."
"I'm glad, Zoë. Wanna know why?"
"Why?"
"Because there's something I've always wanted to find out."
Zoisite wiped a dab of ice cream from her eye. "What?"
"Are dark lords ticklish?"
Before Zoisite could put up her arms, Minako attacked. In an explosion of shrieks and giggles, they rolled across the floor, Minako's fingers everywhere. Zoisite squealed and flipped her over.
"Stop it!" shouted Usagi.
"Yeah!" said Rei. "You'll get Zoisite excited!"
Minako released her trembling opponent. "Oh! That's right!" She coughed and caught her breath, turning to Zoisite. "Is it really true? Are you a double feature?"
"Minako!" cried the others.
"What? I'm just curious. Hermaphrodites are cool! They can dish it out and take it, too! Twin-cam, fully-loaded, dual function . . ."
"Don't start!" snarled Rei.
" . . . two-stroke engine . . ."
"Someone's outside," whispered Zoisite. "I can feel him."
Rei cocked her head, motioning for everyone to be quiet. Then she nodded. "Mamoru."
Zoisite panicked. There was no place to hide.
"I'll take care of him," said Minako, rising to her feet. "Mako, Ami, keep your heads in, or we're all in trouble."
Through a crack between the clay and a timber, Zoisite watched Minako take the bridge.
"Is Usagi inside?" called Mamoru from the other end.
"Who wants to know?"
"I don't have time for games! I have to see her!"
"Sorry, cape-boy! This is the sailor-senshi clubhouse! No guys allowed!"
"It's a tea pavilion!" said Mamoru. "Let me up!"
"You'll turn around if you know what's good for you." Minako aimed her fingertips.
"I'm the emperor!" cried Mamoru. "You wouldn't--"
But Minako did, and almost took out part of the bridge. A dotted trail of scorched earth followed Mamoru's running feet.
"You're gonna hear about this later!" Mamoru shouted on his way back down the path.
Everyone cheered Minako's triumphant return. She sat down by the ash pit, stretched out her legs, and said, "This place is great. But you know, we should keep some sake up here."
Ami gasped. "Never! Don't even consider it!"
"You can't give sake to pregnant women, you goon!" said Rei.
"I know that! I meant for me!"
Ami stood up. "That's no way for sailor senshi to talk! I'm shocked!"
"Well, look who's finally getting assertive," said Minako. "How cute."
"We're older now, and we should be more mature."
"And I suppose you're going to set us on the straight and narrow?"
"Someone has to, and it might as well be me," said Ami, crossing her arms. "I'm as strong as any of you."
"Is that a challenge, Merc?" Minako rose to her feet.
"Hey!" cried Makoto, stepping between them. "Settle down! No fighting!"
"Woah," said Usagi. "Don't tell me Makoto-Jupiter is going to be our peace-keeper now!"
"Why not?" said Minako. "She's been kicking the shit out of Zoisite for the past three months; she oughtta have violence out of her system."
Makoto swung around. "That's not true! Ami! Tell her it's not true!"
"You do lose your temper quite a lot," said Ami.
Zoisite watched the thrust-and-parry, fascinated. They were all slipping into their old, feisty Earth selves, just the way she had remembered them. Except that she had never seen Makoto burst into tears before.
Makoto sank into a corner, sobbing behind her arms.
And before Zoisite could wonder why she even cared, she suddenly found herself kneeling at Makoto's side, her arms wrapped tightly around the shaking girl.
"Was that necessary?" she snapped at Minako.
"Am I wrong?" said Minako, still in fighting stance across the room.
Zoisite held Makoto's head to her breast and stroked her hair. "I'm not the easiest patient to feed, bathe and keep under control. I'd like to see any of you try to do her job."
Relaxing her stance, Minako approached slowly and lowered herself to one knee. She cleared her throat. Her eyes suddenly looked a little more perceptive, with a dangerous gleam.
"Now here's an alliance I never thought I'd see." She tentatively reached for Makoto's back. "Hey. I'm sorry about what I said." She grinned. "But if it's brought the two of you together, then I'm not that sorry!" She rocked back on her heels.
Zoisite held Makoto with one arm and shoved Minako with the other, but she couldn't help smiling a little herself. She wiped Makoto's tear-streaked face.
"You're all right, Zoë," said Minako, tossing her long, golden hair. "I always wanted you on our side. Back during the Second Awakening, you were the coolest! Remember when you disguised yourself to look like Sailor Moon? You filled out that little fuku better than Usagi ever did!"
"A-hem!" said Usagi.
Minako clapped her hands. "And the first time I heard you call Mamo 'cape-boy,' I laughed my ass off . . . or at least I would've, if I hadn't been too busy trying to save it!"
Zoisite's smile faded as she considered what Minako had just said a moment ago, about belonging with the senshi. For the past three months, she had been slowly dying from the loss of Kunzite, with thoughts about what might have been. She didn't need any more aching despair in her heart.
"But why haven't all of you returned with the Third Awakening?" continued Minako. "I mean, you and Kunzite are back. But Nephrite's still dead, and Jadeite's still a museum piece . . . "
"I don't know why," said Zoisite, staring at the floor. Makoto's hands were now smoothing knots from her shoulders.
"Doesn't it get lonely without the others?"
"It's always been lonely. I was not friends with Nephrite, remember? And I hardly knew Jadeite before he was . . . stilled." Zoisite turned her face away and squeezed her eyes shut, stiffly determined not to start crying. There would be no point, and such losses of dignity and control were unseemly.
But when she felt Minako's hand suddenly cradling the back of her head, and heard a soft voice say, "I'm sorry," the tears streamed down.
"Don't," Zoisite croaked.
Minako was stroking her back, and Zoisite trembled under her touch. It was too warm and gentle, too much like Ami. Against all sense of discipline, Zoisite let her body sink to the cushioned mat. The others were all gathered around her now with gentle hands rolling her onto her back. She couldn't stand it; after all she had done to them and to their loved ones, how could they be so kind? She squinted up at their faces through her tears.
"I . . . I wish I had known friends like you . . . before." Zoisite swallowed. She hadn't meant to say anything so painfully honest, something she had never even admitted to herself.
Usagi gave a nervous laugh, reaching her arm back over her head, as she often did when perplexed. "We weren't always friends, you know. We stuck together only because we had a common enemy."
"You!" laughed Minako through her own tears. "Just joking. Actually, though, I wish we did have an enemy to fight right now. I'm restless for battle, if you can't tell."
"Be careful what you wish for," blurted Zoisite before she could stop herself. "You might get your wish before the year is out."
Silence gripped the little room.
"What?" said Usagi, pressing her hand against Zoisite's chest. She dropped the nervous, little girl persona and resumed her role as empress. "When does Beryl plan to attack?"
Zoisite gulped. There was no squirming out of this. Usagi was too powerful. Besides, Zoisite's sense of loyalty felt a touch blurry right now. "Beryl . . . had told us 'twelve months.' That was right before Mamoru brought me here. Oh, Gods! I've just committed high treason!"
Makoto and Rei squeazed her hands.
"Never mind that," said Usagi. "You have asylum. Twelve months, she said? Then we still have nine months left. That should give us plenty of time to prepare. I'm glad you told me, Zoisite."
Zoisite closed her eyes and turned her head toward the wall, trying not to think about what Beryl would do to Kunzite in nine months, when his troops suffered defeat. But the senshi were all holding her now, caressing her and telling her not to worry, that she would have a place among them.
END OF PART III
Enjoying the story so far? Gentle reader, you may e-mail me at: johns877@tc.umn.edu