Mamoru addressed the rounded backs of his seven top military councilors, who were kissing the floor at the foot of his dais.

"I'm sorry to have summoned you from your homes on such short notice, and to call you here at midnight, but the news is urgent. We learned just today from an inside source that the third awakening of Beryl plans to attack Crystal Yedo in nine months. We should have sufficient time to prepare if we don't waste any of it."

Embers in the hibachi stove filled Mamoru's throne pavilion with dim light and shadows, illuminating the iridescent threads of his counsilors' brocaded costumes. The full moonlight outside was strong enough to give the thin panels of the room a deep, violet glow. His glittering assembly awaited their orders heads down, and while Mamoru had tried to get used to kowtowing, enough was enough.

He cleared his throat. "Um, I mean no disrespect to your traditions here, but meetings are handled differently on Earth, where I come from. I consider you my equals, so please, sit up and join me. Let's form a circle."

Slowly, the men's eyes lifted, glancing furtively at Mamoru and at one another. They were men--older, more studied in the art of war--but they were clearly not human. Although they dressed like the Samurai of old, with their hair pulled back into topknots, their limbs were just a little too long, their faces too pointed and delicate. And their ears twitched.

"I mean it," said Mamoru, climbing down off his dais. "I can't talk to your backs. I want a circle. This is a brotherhood of knights. Have you ever heard the Western legend of King Arthur?"

Of course they have, thought Mamoru. They probably know the guy personally.

After a few discreet gestures of protest, they made a circle, kneeling in the traditional posture that Mamoru was still trying to perfect.

"You've always lived here in the upper realm, so you must know things I don't. Three years ago, Usagi fought Beryl and banished her to sleep in the Negative Universe."

A round of bows and appreciative murmurs broke the stillness of the circle.

"And Beryl woke up again about a year ago. But the last time this happened, she had slept for a thousand years. So how come now it's only been two?" Mamoru looked to the eldest councilor, a warrior from Crystal Osaka.

The councilor raised his gray, but hairless face. "When Your Excellence fought Beryl's emissary, Zoisite, at the shipping docks, the police of Tokyo, how did you say . . . opened fire upon you?"

"That's right. Almost turned both of us into Swiss cheese. You know what that is?"

If the councilor knew, he wasn't finding it amusing.

"Listen," said Mamoru. "Things are getting meaner down there. Two years ago, the Tokyo police never would've fired on a couple of college-aged kids fighting at the docks, even if they were brandishing magic katanas."

"It is most unseemly for guardians of a people."

"But it's not just happening in Tokyo. This shadow of brutality is falling over every major city on Earth."

"And that," said the eldest councilor, "is why Beryl has reawakened after only two years. She hungers to feed on souls, and she smells easy prey."

"If hatred, cruelty and injustice are as wide-spread on Earth as our seers tell us," said the councilor from Kyoto, "then the power of Crystal Yedo is all that keeps Beryl from sinking her fangs into the middle realm and swallowing it whole. Empress Usagi and the girl-child she carries are our greatest defense."

More appreciative murmurs and bows.

"The empress had not seen fifteen name days when she defeated Beryl," continued the councilor. "And she was yet Earth-bound, barely aware of her destiny as Empress. Now her power is like a yield of grain to the single kernel that it was then. And the girl-child promises a new, stronger stream of light. How does Beryl plan to get enough energy for victory?"

"That's what I want to know," said Mamoru.

"What about your 'inside source?' The one who told us that we have nine months. Can you get more information from this source?"

"I think the info we got slipped out by accident. I don't trust this particular source for any more." Mamoru shifted his posture. Hidden inside his blue, brocaded girdle, jabbing into the small of his back, was the Crescent Moon Wand. He had made sure Usagi was sound asleep before taking it. He had to carefully hide its luminescent glow under the heavy folds of his costume, for even touching Usagi's wand was strictly forbidden to men, and the councilors would not understand.

He swallowed back a sensation of guilt that burned like a low-grade fever, hoping that X-ray vision was not among the gifts possessed of these otherworld warriors.

"We need to step-up our watch over Tokyo," he said. "Don't let any youma pass in or out of the middle realm, no matter how small."

"Can the four senshi help?" said the councilor from Kyoto. "If they fought alongside Usagi during the Second Awakening, then they should know all about Beryl and the Dark Kingdom."

"They're too busy now," said Mamoru. "Rei of Mars, as our priestess, has to keep the north-east shrine. Minako of Venus is Captain of Usagi's personal guard. And Ami and Makoto . . . they're all very busy."

"But they'll have to join our forces when Beryl rises."

"Of course," said Mamoru. "Defending Usagi always comes first."

"I will send my reinforcement troops from the Snow Country," said one of the councilors.

"And I will send my finest legions of Tengu warriors from Kurama Mountain," said another.

Uh oh, thought Mamoru. Having lived for less than a year in Crystal Nihon, and seldom venturing from the confines of his palace, he had only known of the Tengu from his Japanese mythology school books. These winged, mountain goblins were said to be as unpredictable and independent as they were fierce, and Mamoru wasn't sure how close he wanted to get to a legion of Tengu warriors. But any help would be needed . . .

"Arigato," he stammered.

"This will be a most glorious battle!"

"Uh, sure. You know, on Earth, we don't think of war as being glorious anymore. War is an ugly institution in which a lot of innocent people die. That's why we have things like The United Nations to negotiate peaceful conflict resolutions."

"Our most excellent Emperor Chijba Mamoru-sama will honor the name of his ancestors and fulfill his destiny!"

"Thanks. I'm . . . really looking forward to it." Mamoru's throat suddenly felt raw. He gestured to dismiss his councilors, with a round of obligatory words of gratitude. As the last one--the elder from Crystal Osaka--passed beneath the entrance lintel, Mamoru said, "Wait!"

The "man" turned his lined face, his bat-like ears twitching. "Yes, Your Excellence?"

"I've got a question," said Mamoru. "Something I've been wondering lately . . . about evil."

"I know a little about evil."

Mamoru was clutching the side of his girdle, trying to keep the Crescent Moon Wand from slipping out. "Tell me, is Beryl causing this rise in brutality in Tokyo, or does hatred and brutality bring forth Beryl?"

The councilor smiled and leaned on his staff. Cresting waves swirled like real water across the painted hem of his silk robe. His arms and legs were bound in the deepest black cotton Mamoru had ever seen, and his silver hair, pulled into a topknot and fan, shined with the supernatural glow of clouds on a full-moon night.

The councilor said, "Your Excellence, that question is older than all the kingdoms of all the millennia." Then he bowed once more, leaving Mamoru alone.

Mamoru sighed, rubbing his forehead with both hands.

"Destiny be damned," he whispered. "If Usagi and I live through this whole mess, I swear I'll never drop out of engineering school again!"

After Mamoru was certain the courtyard was abandoned, he slipped out of the pavilion, padded noiselessly over the stones of the sand garden, and passed through a low crawlspace underneath a verandah. He emerged just outside the palace's south-west wing, pausing to brush sand off his knees and look around.

Because of the peace within the realm of Crystal Nihon, there were no fortress walls surrounding the palace, only the invisible field of Usagi's magic, which extended just beyond the borders of Yedo and kept dark entities from other worlds out. Mamoru could gaze at the terraced foothills and valleys that rippled in concentric rings from the palace, as if he were a pebble tossed into a lake.

But under the full moonlight, a heavy mist shrouded the land. Mamoru could not see anything beyond the few porch lamps of the small farming and fishing community that made up Crystal Yedo. He knew that to the south-east lay a sea, and to the far west were Crystal Kyoto and the mountains. But beyond that, it could be nothing but the ethereal mist of a frightened, young man's imagination, for all he knew. A land that had crystallized from clouds, existing nowhere in time or space, that would vanish again when its purpose had been fulfilled.

Mamoru wondered, would he and Usagi return to a normal, mundane life on Earth when this was gone? Here, his young bride was the great, golden hope of the Universe. Back in Tokyo, she would only be another pregnant teen, still flunking her matriculations, barely old enough for a legal relationship in most countries.

And what about Zoisite and the other followers of Beryl? Was Zoisite human, destined for a cycle of rebirths as Mamoru and Usagi were? Or was she more akin to the seven Samurai whatevers Mamoru had just met with? She looked like she could be either. Mamoru had seen people with fae features. He had once met a Korean kid who had a narrow, delicate face, and whose ears were slightly pointed. Sometimes the nature of reality was called in for serious interrogation.

But the scar tissue from Mamoru's shoulder wound felt real enough.

Mamoru crept along the outer edge of the palace, keeping his head below the window screens.

He had not been able to visit Usagi that day, to ask her about healing, er . . . neutralizing Zoisite. Minako-Venus had dumped the news on him about Beryl's planned attack, and Usagi had been kept out of reach by ceremonies and meetings. Maybe she would've said "no" to using the wand, but what else could Mamoru do? He certainly couldn't allow any more hot soup incidents. This terrorizing of the south-west wing had to stop now. And even if the wand left Zoisite vulnerable, well . . .

Mamoru glanced about, not wishing to need an excuse ready for why he was climbing into a clerestory window. He grabbed a cross timber and hoisted himself up the wall to Zoisite's room.

If it was possible, as his eldest councilor seemed to imply, that evil brought forth Beryl, then evil could not be allowed to abide in his palace. That was that. What Mamoru was about to do was only his duty, like it or not.

Once inside the room, however, he wasn't prepared for what he saw.

Pulling the wand from the folds of his robe, its glowing crescent filled the room with a soft blue light. Mamoru's eyes were drawn to a picture, one he hadn't seen before. Lying on one of the mats was a brush-and-ink portrait of Ami, drawn with a tenderness Mamoru would never have expected from Zoisite. It was still wet.

And on the futon in the corner of the room, he found all three of them fast asleep. Makoto, still in her day clothes, was draped over the end by Zoisite's feet, snoring lightly. Zoisite slept in a white night robe, looking almost peaceful but for a little tightening around her eyelids. Perhaps, thought Mamoru, her exhaustion was sometimes greater than her pain.

But the biggest surprise was Ami curling around her from behind, with one arm cradling Zoisite against her breast. Had they always slept together like this? wondered Mamoru.

Couldn't be, he thought. Something must've happened today. Then he started to remember . . .

He already knew, in the shadowy recesses of his memory, that he had lived at least once before in a place like this, a thousand years ago. But he had not been the emperor then, only a prince. There were three men in his guard--Jadeite, Nephrite and Kunzite. The fourth, a pretty, little sakura, could not accurately be called a "man."

When the entity named "Beryl" awoke from its frozen slumber in the Negative Universe, Mamoru's guard did not prove faithful. But before that, there had been pilgrimages to the faraway kingdom where Princess Usagi prepared for her destiny as Empress. There had been parties and dancing and romances . . .

Ah, yes! Mamoru suddenly remembered, Zoisite and Princess Mercury had been lovers. The little sakura's masculine traits had been more predominant, and the pale, dark-eyed princess hadn't even known at first that he wasn't completely a man.

But that was a thousand years ago! thought Mamoru. In a past life! And Zoisite had become a traitor, then a sworn enemy of the entire court, then the demonic terror of modern Tokyo! They couldn't possibly still have feelings for each other after all this time!

Mamoru looked again at the drawing. He felt as if the portrait's eyes could see right through him. The hands looked warm enough to touch, and the kimono was slightly open, revealing a soft, pale throat under a shadow of a chin.

With a deep breath, Mamoru turned back to the slumbering couple. He held up the wand to see their faces more clearly, but was careful not to step too close to the bed. He didn't want to awaken Zoisite's thorns.

All he had to do now was draw a circle in the air around Zoisite and say the healing words. Then the nightmare would end, he thought. He raised the stick high over his head. It shimmered in his trembling hand. The soft, blue light deepened the shadows under Zoisite's eyes and cheekbones. A ray fell across Ami's hand, which rested on Zoisite's left arm.

Zoisite's gaunt face looked drawn and closed, still pained. But there was gentleness in the curve of her upper lip, and a comforting warmth in the way she was snuggled against Ami.

Mamoru hesitated.

Teetering on the edge of a blade, he could fall either way. He stood poised, wanting to rid Crystal Nihon of Zoisite once and for all. So what if it weakened her to complete helplessness? At least then she wouldn't be able to fight him. He could live with that.

But if she was left with no defenses, and the Dark Kingdom recaptured her . . .

Rumor had it, there was nothing as horrible as what the Dark Kingdom did to its own. Mamoru felt frozen, unable to even bend his elbow. Suddenly, a noise startled him. It sounded like a cat brushing past his legs, vanishing into a dark corner. But he could see nothing.

With a sigh, Mamoru lowered the wand.

"I will not destroy you," he whispered to Zoisite.

Then he slipped out through the sliding door and walked softly up the corridor to his own bedchamber.

Entering the room, he found Usagi awake, sitting up on their futon. He could make out her silhouette against the moonlit window screen.

"Usagi--"

"A-hem." Usagi was holding out her empty hand.

Mamoru pulled the wand from the folds of his robe and relinquished it to her. "I didn't use it."

"Believe me, I would know if you had."

"I'm really sorry, Usagi. I wanted to ask you first, and I knew you were up in the tea pavilion, but Minako wouldn't let me in, and then there were important meetings, and, and--" Tears were coming to his eyes. It wasn't a feeling he liked, but his pride wasn't strong enough to hold them back.

Mamoru sank forward into Usagi's arms. "I . . . I never see you!" he sobbed. "Ever since we came here last year, it's been nothing but official duties, and I never get to spend time with my own wife! I know I never had many friends back on Earth, and now I've got people hanging all over me all day long, but I'm still lonely!" He was shaking, tears streaming down as he cried into Usagi's shoulder. "I'm so damn lonely . . . and I'm really tired, and scared . . . and I wish . . . I wish we had normal lives."

"I've been wishing that since I was fourteen," said Usagi, holding him tighter. "You think it's easy being Empress of the 'Magic Kingdom?' I couldn't even handle being Sailor Moon!"

Mamoru gasped, comforted by the strength in her arms. He buried his face into her long, soft hair and held still until the tears subsided.

"What can I do about Zoisite?" he finally whispered. "The thorns have spread into her legs, and she can't even walk. I don't care if she's an enemy; I wouldn't put anyone through that. But if I can't use the damn Moon Stick on her, then the only other way to stop the thorns is to . . . um . . . 'close our estrangement.' " Mamoru cleared his throat. "You don't seem to have a problem with that."

"Sharing you for a night? If it'll bring peace to the south-west wing, I can deal. Besides, I'll be there with you."

"Huh?" said Mamoru. "Why?"

"How else do you think you're gonna get close enough to touch Zoisite without making the thorns flare up? I'm the only one who can temporarily stop her pain; I'll have to hold her."

Mamoru swallowed. "I didn't think about that. Of course. But it doesn't matter, because she won't consent to it anyway!"

"She hates your guts," said Usagi, playfully tugging a lock of Mamoru's hair. "But there is a solution. If you want to change Zoisite's mind, you're going to have to pay a visit to the one and only guy who can make Zoisite do anything."

Mamoru stiffened. "Fuckin' A--" he said under his breath.

"That's not his name," said Usagi. "But I've called him that once or twice. Can you see him now, before dawn? He is nocturnal, after all, so he should be in a better mood than if you had to wake him up."

Mamoru combed his fingers through his damp hair. "He's going to rip me a new--"

"Hopefully, he'll be too concerned about Zoisite. They're lovers, you know, if that's allowed in the Dark Kingdom."

"Really?" said Mamoru, glancing at the doorway. "I thought Zoisite still had a thing for . . . oh, never mind." Mamoru stood up and took Usagi's hands. "Listen, if I don't come back . . . "

"You have to come back." Usagi grinned. "You still have to fulfill your destiny and save the Universe."

"Yeah. That's right." Mamoru swept Usagi up into his arms and gave her a long, lingering kiss before laying her back onto the bed. Then he conjured a long-stemmed, red rose and tickled her chin with it. She giggled.

"These things are so wonderfully phallic," she said.

"What? Usagi!"

"They are!" Usagi took the rose and held it in her teeth, striking a provocative pose.

Mamoru smiled. Drawing a spiral in the air, he conjured a shower of rose petals over the bed, which always delighted Usagi. She fell back and laughed, reaching out to catch an armload. From the corner of his eye, Mamoru could see the moon outside the window screen. He still had a few hours left to visit Kunzite. There was no need to hurry.

He removed his sword belt, let it fall to the floor most unceremoniously, and started to fumble with the ties of his brocaded coat and girdle. He hadn't been with Usagi in a very long, long time.

Mamoru teleported to the alley behind Crown Video Games. As usual, the colorful uniform he was wearing when he left Crystal Yedo had suddenly transformed into the trim, tailored, black and white suit that had earned him the moniker "Tuxedo" on Earth.

He glanced up the alley, seeing no one but a rag picker who slept inside a wooden crate under the loading dock steps at the far end. It was almost four-o'clock; dawn was close at hand. Mamoru took a deep breath. "Okay," he whispered. " 'Courage lives not in the absence of fear, but in the facing of fear.' You can do this, Tux. It'll be all right." Removing the white mask that always accompanied his Earth transformation, he called out, "Kunzite! Kunzite, we have to talk!" Then one last time to seal the charm that would allow Kunzite to pull him into Jigoku. "Kunzite!"

A black void opened under his feet, and for a second, he felt like he was being sucked down a gravity well through a drinking straw. Then he slammed against hard stone. Before he could sit up, the impact of Kunzite pouncing on his chest knocked him back. Kunzite seized his throat, long nails clawing into his skin. Mamoru saw a flash of silver eyes and fangs.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't rip you open and eat your heart!"

Under Kunzite's stranglehold, Mamoru didn't have the breath to say, "Because it wouldn't taste good." So he merely croaked, "Zoisite."

"What about Zoisite?" cried Kunzite. "What happened? Is he all right?"

Kunzite's large hand was still gripping Mamoru's throat. Mamoru could feel his face reddening from suffocation. Then Kunzite's feline eyes, wide and feral, focused. He released his hold and slid his knees off Mamoru's chest.

"How is Zoisite? Tell me! How is he?"

Mamoru gasped. "She's not doing too good."

Kunzite crouched over him, lips curled back from his teeth. The dark lord was panting. Mamoru could see fierceness tinged with genuine alarm. The sharp lines of Kunzite's face looked a little more gaunt than usual. Almost sunken.

"Believe me," said Mamoru. "I wouldn't have called you if we didn't need your help. So please, for Zoisite's sake, get off me. Go sit over there."

With a low growl, Kunzite slinked away. Mamoru watched him retreat on his hands and feet, like a wounded animal, into a tangle of feathered coverlets that made a kind of nest in the dark recess where his futon should've been. The warm, stone cavities of Kunzite's lair were littered with debris--bones and tufts of fur from unfinished meals, broken glass and noxious smelling puddles of chemicals. Apparently, Kunzite was not doing so well himself, thought Mamoru. The dark lord's lair, although never a pleasant place, had always been at least clean.

And Kunzite's hair, once a shimmering mane of platinum that fanned over his broad shoulders, now hung in limp, dull strings. His skin had also lost its luster. Only his eyes still shined, like two flickering candle stubs reaching the ends of their wicks. His elbow poked through an unmended hole in his black, cotton shirt--clothing that just a tiny bit of magic should've been able to maintain.

"What's wrong with Zoisite?" said Kunzite in a weakened, breathy voice.

Mamoru removed the black cape and jacket of his Earth transformation costume. It was always too hot in the Dark Kingdom. He opened his white collar. "Um, how do I explain this? First of all, when I threw the rose at Zoisite, I never meant to hit her there."

"You meant to hit Zoisite's heart and kill him," hissed Kunzite.

"Self-defense. After chasing me through Tokyo, she was about to chop me into stir-fry."

"Don't flatter yourself, little emperor. Zoisite has a very discriminating palate."

"Yeah well, as I said, it was an accident. You see, my roses . . . um, are conjured from my life essence. So when they hit an enemy from your world, an opposite, the clash of essences is usually fatal. But you and Zoisite are not completely of this realm."

"You will not speak of that!" roared Kunzite, leaping from his nest like a panther, landing on all fours at Mamoru's feet. "We are now of Jigoku! Completely!"

Mamoru pressed his shoulders to the stone wall. "Fine! Just get back, okay?" He waited for Kunzite to stop growling before he continued. "When the thorns of my rose pierced Zoisite's female reproductive parts, my essence didn't kill her; it just got her pregnant. That's why she can't re-enter Jigoku; she's carrying an innocent."

Kunzite sneered. "Is that what you call it?"

"Zoisite's come up with a few more colorful names," said Mamoru. "But anyway, the rose didn't stop there. It's got another . . . side effect. It hurts to have a thorny rose growing inside your body."

"What? You mean your rose is still there, inside Zoisite? It hasn't dissolved?"

Mamoru shook his head. "Growing and spreading. Basically, she's being consumed within by thorns--not real, physical thorns, of course. If they were real thorns, she and the baby would be dead by now. Call them spirit thorns, if you want. They still hurt like Hell."

"Little emperor," said Kunzite, laughing and shaking all at once. "You could never even conceive of the pain inflicted below Queen Beryl's audience chamber. Nothing hurts like Hell."

"Sorry," said Mamoru. "It's just a figure of speech I learned when I went to college in America."

"You should have stayed there."

"I had to return. I'm Usagi's protector and partner. But about the thorns--they may be spirit thorns, but Zoisite still screams from the pain. And she can't sleep or eat, and that could be fatal. She's gotten very weak and sickly."

Kunzite squeezed his eyes shut, as if fighting some pain of his own. "You care about this?" he said.

"Yeah. I do. She's in my house, bearing my child, and to be honest, I wouldn't subject my worst enemy to what she's going through. So please, Kunzite, won't you help me?"

"How can I help?"

"Well, call them 'thorns of estrangement.' They hurt as long as Zoisite and I are essential opposites and enemies. There are ways to stop them; for instance, if I joined the Dark Kingdom, which I can't do, or if Zoisite completely renounced the Dark Kingdom--"

"--Which he can't do," interrupted Kunzite.

"Or if I 'healed' her with Usagi's Crescent Moon Wand--"

Kunzite's eyes flamed with sudden rage. "If you ever try to use the Moon Stick on Zoisite, I will hunt you down and skin you alive!"

Mamoru swallowed. "I'm . . . not planning to. But the only other way to close our estrangement is . . . um . . . " Mamoru could feel himself blushing.

"Let me guess," said Kunzite with dark amusement. "Sex?"

Mamoru nodded.

"Too embarrassed to even say it?" sneered Kunzite. "Like a shy, little school girl? You're a pathetic excuse for a magic emperor. You never would have attained Crystal Yedo without being dragged by the train of Usagi's ceremonial robe."

"You mean, riding on her coattails? I did my part fighting the second awakening of Beryl. Now you must do yours to help Zoisite. I have to join with her, but the magic only works if both parties consent. And Zoisite refuses."

Kunzite chuckled. "Good for him."

"No, it's not good. She could die, so you've got to change her mind. This is serious."

Kunzite brooded for a minute. Then the corner of his lip turned up. "I could persuade him to take an obedience oath. Then he'd have to agree to anything you ask, for the duration of his confinement. I trust you would not abuse it."

"You can trust my honor more than Zoisite's temper."

Kunzite grinned. "That's true. All right, little emperor. Take me to Crystal Yedo, and I will speak with Zoisite."

Mamoru rose and put on his cape and jacket, thinking, Kunzite is too cordial. Zoisite must never have told him about what I did back in the Second Awakening. Or Kunzite would've killed me long before now.

"Stand close," said Mamoru. "I'll have to hold you in teleport." He could feel Kunzite stiffen as he wrapped his arms around the dark lord and pulled him to his chest. Then with a thought and a blinding flash, he swept Kunzite up out of Jigoku, toward Crystal Yedo.

"Should we wake her? Kunzite has been waiting in the receiving room for hours."

"I know. But this is Zoë's first good night of sleep since she came here."

Ami and Makoto's voices came from the same direction as the late morning light that was gently tugging Zoisite from sleep. Finally, sleep lost its hold, and Zoisite's eyelashes fluttered open.

"Are you awake?" said Ami. "Get up; you have a visitor!"

"What?" Zoisite rubbed her eyes.

"We must get you bathed and dressed right away. He's been waiting!"

"Mamoru? I don't want to see him."

"It's not Mamo," said Makoto, easing Zoisite up from the futon. "It's a surprise. One I think you'll like."

The deep sleep had been comfortable, and Zoisite wasn't ready to stir up her thorns with movement. She started to wail.

"Hush now, and come with us," urged Ami. Zoisite wrapped her arms around Ami's neck and let herself be half-dragged to the bath down the hall. A while later, Zoisite was carried to the receiving room, where she had first awakened three months earlier. Freshly bathed, her skin was as pink and glowing as the layered kimono Makoto had procured for her. The attendants had twisted her hair into two shiny rolls, pinned to the top of her head. Her face was lightly brushed with color, her feet were rubbed and perfumed, and her toenails were even painted.

"Go on in," whispered Ami. "We'll leave you two alone."

Zoisite gasped.

Kneeling under a prism band of crystal-filtered sun was Kunzite. He had plucked one of the bluish white blossoms from the vines twining down the cedar pillars, and was floating it in the low pool. Water trickled from fountains in the tokonoma, swirling around the little flower and making it spin. Before Zoisite had to speak, Kunzite's hand paused in mid-air, as if sensing her. He looked up and cried, "Zoi-kun!"

She ran to his arms, ignoring the pain as he crushed her against him. Then he looked at her again, blinking. "Zoi . . . Zoi-chan?"

Zoisite smiled. "I've changed."

"I never would have thought you could be any more beautiful than you were. What are these?"

Zoisite squeaked with delight as Kunzite, with one arm still around her waist, opened the front of her kimono and pressed his large hand to the swollen undersides of her newly forming breasts. "Beautiful." He bent down to kiss them.

Then they held each other tightly, kissing for several minutes of sun-bathed silence.

But Zoisite started shaking as bitter tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Did you miss me that much, little rat?" said Kunzite between kisses.

"Kunzaito-sama, I . . . I've committed treason! And now I fear you will suffer for my carelessness!"

"But you could not help what that snip of an emperor did to you."

"Not that. I told Empress Usagi when Beryl plans to attack Crystal Yedo! Oh, Kunzaito-sama! I didn't mean to! It was a moment of weakness, and her magic has such power over me! Please forgive me!" Zoisite squeezed her eyes shut, lowering her head and pushing her wet face into the laces of Kunzite's collar.

Kunzite held her and tenderly stroked her neck.

"I've warned them!" sobbed Zoisite. "And now our troops shall fail the ambush, and Beryl will have you punished! I cannot live if anything happens to you!"

"When does Beryl attack?"

"Why, in nine months."

Beryl's chief general started to laugh. Zoisite stared up at his face, bewildered.

"Your information is old," said Kunzite, rocking Zoisite in his arms. "We attack in four months. Change of plans."

"What? How will Beryl get enough energy?"

"I would tell you, little rat, but it is dangerous for you to know too much while in enemy hands."

"Only four months? But--" Zoisite looked at her stomach.

"Don't worry," said Kunzite. "You will be long gone from here." He glanced around, reached into his collar and drew out a small, glass phial on a silver chain. He quickly slipped it over Zoisite's head and touched his forefinger to his lips. "Poison," he whispered, "to kill the 'innocent' inside you."

Zoisite's mouth fell open.

"Mamoru brought me here to help him handle you--to persuade you to take an obedience oath for the duration of your confinement. He wants to have his way."

"Kunzite! You wouldn't!"

Kunzite snuggled closer, whispering into Zoisite's ear. "I'd sooner kill him than let him touch you. But he never will, because you will drink what I have brought, and by tonight, the parasite will be dead. Your confinement will be over, the thorns will have vanished, and you will have no need for Mamoru's bed."

"Then I will fly back to your arms and your bed, and we will make love until the stars go out!"

Pain flashed across Kunzite's face. "Not exactly."

"What do you mean?"

"Listen to me, Zoisite. Beryl thinks you are dead. If she finds out I was lying, she will have us both caught and tortured. Drink the poison. You'll have painful cramps for a few hours, but then you will be free. You will go to Earth, hide yourself, and start a new life. Remember the secret treasures of gold we left around Tokyo for just this purpose? Find them, and you will live well."

"But you'll come with me--"

Kunzite shook his head. "I cannot seek you, or Beryl will know. We will have to remain dead to each other until the day when I am also free from the Dark Kingdom."

"But that will never be!" Zoisite wrapped her arms around Kunzite's waist and buried her face in his shirt, crying. "I can't leave you! I won't! I'd rather die!"

"Zoisite! Zoisite, look at me! Do you remember what I taught you about being brave, strong and patient, and doing what you must?" Kunzite took Zoisite's trembling chin. "This is your greatest assignment--to be free. Do not fail me!"

Just then, a herald announced the entrance of Emperor Mamoru. Zoisite's eyes were almost too blurry with tears to watch him approach.

"Zoisite? Kunzite-sama?" said Mamoru, smiling. His cheerfully colorful coat was formal, but not too formal. More appropriate for a festival or celebration. "I don't mean to intrude and hurry you along, but I fear your absence, Kunzite, may raise suspicion in the Dark Kingdom."

"There is no need to fear for me," growled Kunzite.

"Arigato. But I . . . also wanted to see you do what I brought you here for."

"Of course." Kunzite released Zoisite, who was unable to stop crying, and stood over her. "Remember what I told you," he said to Zoisite. "Remember everything. Now, are you prepared to take the oath?"

Zoisite swallowed back her tears, glanced once at Mamoru, whose cheerful expression couldn't hide his apparent discomfort, then bowed respectfully to her teacher and lover, Kunzite.

Kunzite conjured a green cloud between his fingers, and as he spoke, his words swirled into the darkening vapor. "The magic only works if you fully consent to it," he said. "So speak into the cloud. Do you, Zoisite, accept this oath to honor and obey Emperor Mamoru, until the time of your deliverance?"

"I, Zoisite, willingly accept this oath to honor and obey Emperor Mamoru until the time of my deliverance."

At the close of her words, the ball of vapor flared up and rushed at Zoisite, throwing her head back. She screamed. The green mist forced its way into her mouth and down her throat. Then she could feel it spreading through her, even to her fingertips, filling her with a strange, glowing presence. She could sense part of her once free will being clamped down under the manacles of Kunzite's powerful spell. And Mamoru held the chains.

But from the corner of her eye, she could see the flash of Kunzite's wink. It would only last a few hours, she reminded herself. Then she would drink the poison, and . . .

"I'm sorry to be so abrupt, but you must leave now, Kunzite-sama," said Mamoru.

Kunzite bowed to Zoisite, pressing his lips to her hand longer and harder than what was seemly for court ritual. Then by waving a red rose, Mamoru opened a portal and sent Kunzite back to his own world before Zoisite could even say "good bye."

Once Zoisite was alone in the room with Mamoru, she collapsed to the floor, breaking into tears.

Mamoru cleared his throat. "I . . . well . . . maybe I should've given you and Kunzite another minute, but his visit seemed to have upset you more than cheered you."

Zoisite didn't respond, except with more crying.

"Really, Zoisite, I'm not heartless. I'm going to help you. After today, there'll be no more pain from those thorns."

"Just go," whispered Zoisite.

Mamoru stood for another moment, shifting from foot to foot. Then with a sigh, he walked out and left Zoisite alone.

She lay quietly on the soft mat, unable to think of anything beyond the next few hours. The glass phial, hidden under her kimono, felt oddly cold against her bare throat.

Mamoru sat alone in his throne pavilion, trying to drown out that morning's events with a melody or two on his flute. But his heart wasn't in it, and with a sigh, he finally tucked the flute back into his sword belt and stared glumly at the juniper tree just outside the entrance.

The morning had accomplished its mission, he told himself, so why did he feel so uneasy? Was it anxiety over the abrupt, almost cruel way he had dismissed Kunzite and separated the lovers before they could even say "good bye?" Mamoru looked down at his hands, almost too fearful to think about how he had acted.

It was right after the sealing of Zoisite's obedience oath. Something had snapped, and a shiver of impatient hostility had passed through him. An odd, foreign feeling, it hadn't lasted long enough for Mamoru to question it, only long enough to make Zoisite more miserable.

"You were a creep, Tux," said Mamoru to himself. "You could see Zoë was already in tears; why did you make it worse?"

And why had Zoisite been crying, anyway? wondered Mamoru. What did Kunzite say to her? Perhaps Kunzite had been too forceful persuading her to take the oath and to sleep with . . .

Before Mamoru could finish that thought, he realized just how impossible it was to imagine Kunzite telling Zoisite to go to bed with the emperor of Crystal Yedo, regardless of circumstances. In fact, the more Mamoru tried to envision it, the more ridiculous the idea looked. Kunzite, as possessive and passionate as he was, would sooner kill everyone than share his "little rat."

Knowing Kunzite, it would've been much more like him to plot Zoisite's escape.

Mamoru suddenly wished he had not left those two alone at all, for Lord Kunzite was known for treachery. Why had Mamoru been so trusting? Of course the dark lord would try to pull something.

That's his job!

But how could Zoisite escape when she wouldn't be able to re-enter her home or lose the thorns for another six months? --Unless, of course, she delivered prematurely . . .

Oh, Gods! Mamoru jumped to his feet. Very prematurely! Of course! Mamoru half cried out, half moaned at the revelation that Kunzite's easiest, quickest way to get Zoisite back would be to help her lose the baby. And Kunzite hadn't been frisked. He could easily have been concealing a poison, or maybe he cast a spell. No, thought Mamoru. Such a spell would never get past Usagi's wards. But a poison could.

"How could I be such a fool? Zoisite, no!" Mamoru bolted out of the pavilion and across the garden, not even taking his sandals.

Warm, wooden floor boards. Steamy air. The green scent of ferns and lichen. Zoisite had the bath all to herself. Seated at the edge of the pool, her feet in the water, she untied the borrowed kimono and let it slip from her shoulders. Underneath was only the "pendant" Kunzite had given her.

Pulling the pins from her hair, she unrolled the tight balls she had worn that morning. Her fiery tresses tumbled down her bare back. Then she braced her hands against the tiled edge and pushed herself forward.

"Uhh!" The long needles of pain stabbed inside for only a moment, until the hot water gently lifted her body into a soothing weightlessness. Steam rose from the roiling surface, as conduits from nearby mineral springs carried air bubbles along with warmth.

She rested for a minute, half floating, closing her eyes and letting the water draw the tension from her muscles. The slow, melting release was a good thing on which to focus. If she could think only of how close and comforting the water was, she would be all right.

But she knew she couldn't put it off forever.

In the center of the bathing pool stood a grotto of rough, volcanic rock, where ferns and lichen hung like a rich, green curtain over the recess. Zoisite submerged herself and drifted to it, ducking her head under the hanging garden. She surfaced inside a small, hidden alcove of rock and greenery. Filtered sunlight poured down on her face from an opening above. But from outside the pool, no one would see her.

The water, the soothing heat and fresh scent of ferns and mineral steam--this was all Zoisite had to keep herself from panicking. If she let that morning flood back into her mind, and listened again to her lover's final farewell, she knew she would break. No one could have the strength Kunzite was demanding of her.

We will have to remain dead to each other until the day . . .

"No!" came Zoisite's stifled cry, echoing up through the cavernous space of the alcove. She shuddered despite the water's comforting embrace, then broke into sobs. For several minutes, salty tears mixed with the spring-fed water swirling around Zoisite's naked shoulders.

Finally, she straightened and gasped, "All right. I'll not fail you. I'll do as you say, and flee to Earth," although she had no idea how she would live down there. The grief was too strong to think that far ahead. After wiping more tears with the back of her hand, her fingers reached for the small glass bottle against her throat.

First things first.

"Zoisite!" gasped Mamoru, finally reaching her room. "Is she . . . is she . . ."

Makoto looked up from a drawing she had started, using one of Zoisite's brushes. "She's not here."

"Not here! Is she with Ami?"

"No; Ami sleeps this time of the day. Zoë's in the bath."

"What's she doing in the bath?" cried Mamoru. "I thought she had a bath this morning!"

Makoto shrugged. "She wanted another one. Is that a problem? She was so upset after seeing Kunzite, and the warm water soothes her nerves--Hey! Where do you think you're going?"

Mamoru almost knocked over two servants, running down the corridor to the bath. He could hear Makoto shouting after him, but there was no time to stop.

"What took you so long?" whispered Zoisite, holding the phial up to her eye, looking through the dark brown liquid. "If you knew I'd have to leave you, why didn't you bring me this three months ago, and save me some pain?"

She clutched the bottle tightly in her fingers and pulled at the glass top, trying to twist it open. "And this is for you, Mamoru."

But just as the top started to give a little, Zoisite paused. For three months, she had wanted nothing more than to do what she was about to do. She had never once given any thought to the new life growing inside her. What made her think of it now? she wondered. Maybe it was Usagi, whose round belly drew the adoration of all Crystal Nihon. Everyone was so excited about that baby, every artist from here to Hokkaido was already painting the brat's portrait and composing epic verse for the adventures it would supposedly have once it was born. Usagi's heir, the golden enfanta of Yedo. Everyone--the court attendants, lords, ladies, guards and servants eagerly lay aside their considerations for respectful distance and vied for chances to rub Usagi's tummy. And Usagi, not being used to imperial customs, encouraged this breach of protocol.

The only one who ever laid her hands on Zoisite was Ami.

Zoisite hesitated. The bottle possessed a curious chill, as if she had just pulled it from the snow.

What will Ami say?

She looked at her body and wondered what it would feel like to be round and growing like Usagi, to have someone's hands caressing her belly--Ami's or Makoto's or . . . No, thought Zoisite, sighing. Kunzite would never see it. And he would never look into the eyes of this child who was not his, because Zoisite would push aside all these thoughts and obey him . . . now . . .

She started twisting the glass top again.

"Zoisite! Stop!"

She froze at the sound of Mamoru's voice. She could hear him shoving the door screen open, his feet landing on the wooden floor boards at the edge of the pool.

"Where are you?"

Zoisite crouched down against the back of the alcove, barely keeping her nose above the surface.

"I know you're in here! Are you hiding in the grotto? Hold on!"

Zoisite tried to quickly unscrew the bottle and raise it to her lips, but her hands would not obey her. In fact, she couldn't move them at all.

Oh, Gods! It's the oath!

Then she heard a great splash that sounded like Mamoru jumping into the water, clothes and all. Indeed he had, looking like a drowning peacock in his soaked finery as he tumbled into the grotto. He pried open Zoisite's fist and snatched the bottle away, snapping the silver chain in two.

"What is this?" he demanded.

Zoisite shrank back and screamed, trying to cover herself. Mamoru's closeness was making the thorns sharpen into a hundred flaming knives.

Mamoru was holding the bottle to his brow, eyes closed for a moment, as if using his powers to identify the nature and origin of the contents. "Kunzite gave this to you!" he said, looking down at Zoisite, who was screaming as hard as her lungs could push.

"Get away! Get away!"

"You were going to poison your baby! Well, I won't let you!"

Just then, Zoisite heard Makoto running in.

"Are you crazy, Mamo?" snapped Makoto. "You can't just barge in on a lady's private--What the Hell are you doin' in the water with your clothes on?"

Mamoru leaned out of the grotto and tossed the bottle to her. "Just get rid of this! Zoisite and I have personal business!"

"While she's buck naked in the bath?"

"Just go!"

"Awright, awright!" Makoto backed out.

Zoisite had screamed to exhaustion, and could now only cry, still seized in the fist of Mamoru's command. Mamoru turned to her.

"Ami and Makoto have gotten careless with you," he said. "But I know you can't be trusted. I first wanted this obedience oath so I could help you end the pain of those thorns. Now I see I'm gonna have to use it for something else as well."

The pain was so intense, it dulled Zoisite's other senses. She helplessly gasped for breath between sobs. Mamoru raised his hand, and for a second, Zoisite thought he would strike her. But he held his hand steady before her face and said, "By the power of the obedience oath, which you willingly accepted, I command that you desist from trying to harm your baby or yourself!" Then he added, "And don't think about running away to Earth, because you are going to stay here, where we can take care of you!"

Zoisite stiffened, sensing that now familiar feeling of her will being clamped down. But this time there was more. A sudden terror gripped her heart, and she felt a strange burning on her forehead that lasted a second or two, as if someone were branding her with a hot iron.

Then she noticed something wrong with Mamoru. He was staggering back a step, clutching at his chest, his face also distorted with terror. And above his brow flashed a symbol Zoisite could've recognized anywhere. Again, it lasted only for a couple of seconds, but it was unmistakably the mark of Jigoku, the "ghost sign."

"What . . . what's happening?" he stammered.

Zoisite looked from Mamoru to her hands, then back at Mamoru. Inside, she could feel the thorns darkening, turning black at the tips. What had been only vague terror a moment before was focusing into hatred. And she could see a similar change in Mamoru's eyes.

"What the Hell was that?" cried Mamoru. "Just what kind of spell did Kunzite give us, anyway?"

"One he never intended you to actually use."

Mamoru straightened, as if trying to recapture some lost dignity. "Humph! It still works, doesn't it?"

"Quite well, I'm afraid," said Zoisite. "I hope he told you not to abuse it. Dark Kingdom spells have a tendency to . . . get out of hand."

"But you'll still see me tonight," said Mamoru, splashing his way to the edge of the pool and climbing out. "Tell Ami and Mako to have you ready and brought to my bedchamber just after sunset. Then we'll do what we have to do, and I won't need to see you anymore. We'll both be happy."

Zoisite watched him slop out of the room like a glittering, beached sea monster. Then she was left alone with a cold hatred that felt strangely more virile than anything she had ever harbored before the oath. It was almost like the uneasiness one senses shortly after contracting a bug, before any real symptoms appear.