Thorns were nothing compared to this. If felt like being eaten from inside. So sharp was the pain, Zoisite could barely breathe as Mamoru swept her through the corridors. Arms around his neck, she clutched at his tunic collar and cried.
"Almost there," said Mamoru.
Zoisite heard screaming as Mamoru paused. She lifted her head to see a flurry of attendants burst from Usagi's room. She also saw a dead rabbit with it's belly split open, blood splattered on the wall and mat.
"What's going on?" shouted Mamoru, forcing his way into the birthing room, which rang with the newborn cries of Princess Usa. Minako and Makoto lay unconscious against the wall, beside their spears. With a yelp, Rei hit the floor near Mamoru's feet, the streamers of her wand singed black.
Zoisite's head snapped up at the sound of Beryl's laughter.
She saw Usagi crouched over the birthing stool, the insides of her thighs awash with blood. The screaming baby had just come out. Beryl towered over mother and child like a great, phantom serpent with gleaming fangs and a whirlwind tail.
Noxious, green vapor swirled around the room, sucking the healing herbs, paper charms and streamers down its funnel. Kunzite was also there, held close and silent against Beryl like a captive soul.
And facing Beryl in fighting stance between her and Usagi, stood Ami. Her hemp cloth tunic and pantaloons were as bloodstained as her fists. Her short, black hair was mussed. Wet strands clung to her face.
"Step aside," hissed Beryl.
Ami dug her bare toes into the mat.
"Very well." Beryl aimed her staff and blasted the senshi healer against a wall panel across the room.
"Ami!" cried Zoisite.
Beryl turned. "My Zoisite!" she said, looking sincerely concerned. "You've finally arrived! You must be in a great deal of pain right now. Let me shield you from this spell."
Energy pulsed from the globe on Beryl's staff, wrenching Zoisite from Mamoru's arms and sealing her in a large, green bubble. Suspended in mid air, Zoisite's pain immediately dissipated, and she could sense that her own baby was still alive, no longer in the throes of whatever seizure had been gripping it. She looked down at Mamoru, who was being pinned to the wall by another energy pulse.
"Thank you for bringing Zoisite just in time," said Beryl to Mamoru. "We almost lost her. You see, Zoisite's 'enfanta spell' isn't specialized enough to only touch Usagi. Of course, she never expected to become pregnant herself when she created it."
"What are you talking about?" said Mamoru.
Beryl laughed. "I could just take your child back to Jigoku and kill it, but it would be a shame to lose the tremendous power it carries from its bloodline. Unfortunately, if I want to harness that energy for myself, I must first bind it within a special enchantment, or I can't use it. That's where Zoisite has helped us. Our 'little rat' is quite adept at spellcraft. And she apparently did a good job hiding our plan from you. A big secret to keep for so many months. But then, deception is our way. I suppose she's tried to escape the palace?"
Mamoru stared at Zoisite, questioning. Zoisite tried to plead that it wasn't true, that she hadn't even remembered about that spell. But she couldn't speak through the bubble. She couldn't assuage Mamoru's look of betrayal.
"Kunzite," said Beryl. "Now!"
Like a mesmerized youma with no will of its own, Kunzite drew his jeweled, short sword and raised it high over the infant. Usagi screamed and tried to put up an energy attack, but she had little strength, and Beryl merely absorbed it. With his hands pinned to the wall, Mamoru couldn't throw any roses. He strained against his bonds. Ami, too, was unable to fight.
Kunzite's sword came down and cut the umbilical cord.
"Tie it off!" said Beryl to Ami, who was still dazed from her blow. Resisting the order would only hurt Usa, so the healer meekly rose and obeyed, using what remained of her chi to tend the baby. But before she could clean the filmy tissue and blood from its skin, the baby was wrenched away and given to Zoisite.
For a moment, Zoisite wondered how any of the people in that room could still be alive. But then she remembered that the scepter Beryl carried in the Third Awakening had a limit unknown to the previous awakenings. It was whispered among the youma that Beryl's own dark master, whom Zoisite knew about but had never seen, wanted Beryl to learn restraint this time around. To keep her from squandering her resources by killing her servants in flashes of petty anger, as she had once done to Zoisite, Beryl could injure, but she was not allowed to kill directly. If she did, the scepter's power would be extinguished, leaving Beryl completely helpless. This was why her oni servants now did all the dirty work.
Fortunately for Usagi's court, Beryl didn't have any servants on hand, and Kunzite looked too sapped to fight. In fact, he looked ready to faint.
Zoisite's descent into Jigoku was a dizzying, furious spiral through multiple layers of dark space. Curled inside her bubble, she squeezed her eyes shut and clutched the infant as they were hurled down through what felt like the caverns of a porous, volcanic mountain. Alternating red light and black shadows played on the insides of her eyelids. The rush of acceleration pressed her ears and tore the breath from her lungs.
*My Gods!* she thought, holding Usa in the folds of her black robe while the bubble spun them upside-down and sideways. What level was Beryl condemning her to?
Then all was still, and she found herself sprawled unharmed on cold, rough stone. The black space was silent except for the wailing of Princess Usa, who squirmed beside her. And strangely cold for Jigoku. Colder than any level of Hell she knew.
"We must be far below Beryl's audience chamber," whispered Zoisite. Shivering, she pulled the infant into her arms for warmth. Would they be left to die in the coldest reaches of Jigoku, where even youma didn't descend?
Then blue-green light filled the space, along with Beryl's laughter. Zoisite could just make out the rock walls of her new prison. The little cave was about the same length and width of her room in Crystal Yedo, but the "ceiling" joined the floor at the edges. One could stand upright only near the center. Up front, stalactites and stalagmites made thick prison bars. Beryl and Kunzite appeared on the other side.
"Most Honored One," said Kunzite on his knees. "Thank you for sparing Zoisite from the enfanta spell."
Beryl took his chin. "My dear Lord Kunzite. I could never allow that spell to devour Zoisite." She dug her long nails into his cheek. "Such a death would be far too quick."
Zoisite held Usa tighter. The look overtaking Kunzite's face was terrible to see.
"Queen Beryl!" he said. "Please let Zoisite go this time! It wasn't her fault! She was pierced by Kamen's rose, and--"
"Silence! Groveling does not become you." Beryl straightened to her full, regal height. "If you don't want Zoisite tortured, perhaps victory over Crystal Yedo might change my mind."
Princess Usa's scepter floated inside a bubble. The gilded wand was as long as Zoisite's forearm. The red globe and lunar crescent at the end blossomed from a crown of silver-white wings. Below that was a disk emblazoned with the sacred triple swirls of the mitsutomoe symbol. Beryl was keeping a curious distance from it.
Suddenly, Usa's whimpering became a brief gurgle of laughter, and Zoisite's eyebrows shot up. Newborns didn't laugh! The bubble shielding the scepter burst with a painful, brilliant flash.
"Cover it!" shrieked Beryl, blocking the rays with her hands. "Zoisite! Give me that black clothing! All of it!" Zoisite promptly obeyed, and her clothes were thrown over Usa's wand, dousing the light. In her nakedness, Zoisite could feel how much poor Usa needed a bath. The slime covering the newborn was growing sticky. And now this shunned, lower level really felt chilly. Kunzite's chamber was always so delightfully warm. Better air, too.
Usa started crying again.
"Zoisite!" said Beryl. "Can't you shut it up? Take care of that filthy, little beast until I tell you otherwise. Keep it fed."
"With what?" Zoisite looked down at her underdeveloped breasts. "I can't carry a child and nurse one, too . . . can I?"
"I'll find you a servant adept at growth spells."
Zoisite gulped. Most of the "growth" spells she knew of involved tumors.
Beryl turned to Kunzite. "Now that we've got enough energy to open the kimon of Crystal Yedo and let our forces through, I've decided our attack cannot wait. Take this freakish wand and follow me; we'll see what it's got." Before leaving, she aimed her own scepter and shot one last bubble to encapsulate Zoisite's cell, just to make it extra secure.
But as Beryl led Kunzite back to the upper strata, Zoisite noted that Beryl's voice had sounded just a touch hesitant. Even if the enfanta spell made the scepter compatible with Jigoku, did the queen really know how to harness the intense, positive energy of Princess Chibi Usa? Or was Beryl playing with strange, dangerous fire?
As if she could hear Zoisite's thought, the infant laughed again.
Kunzite climbed through a narrow, rock crevice toward Zoisite's cell, lamp in hand. It had been over a day since Beryl had locked her in there, and the queen was now so occupied with that new wand--surely she wouldn't notice her general's very brief absence.
*There!* Following the stench of urine, he entered the small cavern by Zoisite's cell, and set the lamp down. Finding the weakest spot in the stalactite "bars," Kunzite tugged on his uniform cuffs and white gloves, formed an invisible ball between his hands, and curved it into a blade. Then he braced his long legs and threw it.
But Beryl's seal absorbed the attack. His shoulders sank. Brushing a wisp of silver hair from his eyes, he shook his head.
"I must be insane," he whispered, dropping to his knees before the cell. "Even if I could bust you out of here, we can't escape Beryl."
Zoisite didn't even look up. In the dim, shadow-strewn lamplight, she was curled naked around the infant, whose pitiful cries sounded like hunger and exhaustion. But the tiny, wrinkled creature squirmed, unwilling or unable to sleep in Zoisite's arms. And it certainly didn't look willing to feed from her newly swollen, spell-induced breasts. In fact, it was pushing her away.
"You must be freezing," said Kunzite, pulling off his gray and blue cape. He tried to stuff it into the cell, but neither the cape nor his hand could pass through the seal. It was unbearable seeing Zoisite naked and shivering while he himself enjoyed a rich, warm set of clothes.
"Zoisite? Zoisite, can't you hear me?" How strange, he thought. She was barely acknowledging his presence.
Long curls cascaded over her delicate shoulders and back, catching fiery glints from the lamplight. Being only five months pregnant, she was showing just a little; Kunzite could hardly see any difference, except for a faint, angelic glow.
But she looked so despairing, and Kunzite noticed smudges of grime soiling her arms and legs. Out loud, he cursed Beryl for not providing anything to keep Usagi's smelly, little imp clean.
Zoisite lifted her head to regard him with a face veiled and cold. Then she turned away.
"You can put the brat down for a minute," said Kunzite. "Beryl won't know. I'm so sorry about this whole situation, Zoisite. I came to see you as soon as I could break away from my duties. My officers are preparing the troops as we speak, so I cannot linger here, you understand.
"But don't worry. My troops will be attacking Crystal Yedo presently. I will destroy the emperor's palace to the last timber, and wipe out all his royal court and subjects. I will achieve such a total victory, Beryl will reward me with your release. She will not put you to death when she beholds my triumph. And I will make Tuxedo Kamen pay for everything he did to you. I promise! I promise with all my soul!"
Kunzite frowned at Zoisite's reaction to his words. She was wincing, as if in pain. He was trying to cheer her, not make her shudder. What, in the name of darkness, was wrong? He re-fastened his cape and adjusted the epaulettes on his shoulders, almost as a nervous gesture. *She looks sick,* he thought.
"Zoisite, are you not well?" Kunzite's mind struggled to face a possibility more fearful than any opponent. "Do, do I no longer please you? You know there's nothing I would deny you. Ask me for anything, and I'll grant it!"
"There's only one thing I want," said Zoisite in a clear, even voice. "If you have any heart for me at all, you'll do this one thing. Otherwise, I swear, I'll never speak to you again."
"I'll do it!"
"If you must attack Crystal Yedo, promise me Ami's safety."
"Princess Mercury?" said Kunzite. "But she's our enemy!"
"She is *your* enemy."
"Beryl will be furious. It'll jeopardize your own safety, Zoisite."
"I don't care. If anything happens to Ami . . . " Her voice cracked.
"But--" Kunzite took a deep breath. "I see." He felt his life force draining to the tips of his fingers. The thing he feared had come true; Zoisite's old romance from the Silver Millennium had indeed rekindled. What else could explain such a foolish demand?
Looking down at his body, he wondered; what was he lacking? He was still tall, trim and strong. His muscles were tight. And he had spent a great deal of energy on his grooming before coming here. Had Zoisite found more appeal in the softer flesh of a young, dark-eyed woman?
"Promise me!" said Zoisite. "You said you'd deny me nothing."
"I did." Kunzite squeezed his eyes shut. "And if this is what you demand of me . . . I will do what I can for your Ami."
"Not enough! You must promise that she will live!"
"H-hai."
Zoisite said nothing more to him after that, and he eventually left--much sooner than he had planned. As he returned to his duties, appearing before his troops of oni in the upper levels, his heart felt heavier with each salute from his officers.
And he feared that Beryl would not spare Zoisite's life after all.
"You're beautiful," said Mamoru, cradling Usagi in his lap. They sat on the futon of their bedchamber, bathed in the yellow, mid-day glow of the rice paper window screens. Usagi's golden hair was wound into two balls atop her head, from which flowed two long tails, like streams of sunlight.
But her face was wan from lack of sleep, and dark circles shadowed her blue eyes. Ami had ordered her to stay in bed, but no one had been able to keep her there. Now, after a week and a half of pacing around the palace, she was showing exhaustion. Still in her pink dressing gown, she dropped her hands in her lap and rested her cheek against the front ties of Mamoru's tunic.
Mamoru bent down and planted a light kiss on her small, upturned nose.
"Once upon a time," he said, wrapping his arms around her, "there lived an old bamboo cutter."
"Oh, not this story again!" said Usagi, smiling and snuggling closer.
"And one day, while he was out cutting bamboo, far from the village, he found a baby girl abandoned in a basket. He lived alone, and had always wanted a child, so he took the girl home with him to be his daughter. And she grew up to be the fairest, most beautiful young woman in all the land. She had hair like the sun, and eyes like the sky, and when she came of age, she wrapped her hair into balls to show everyone that she was now old enough for suitors.
"Of course, the four lords of the land all fell in love with her. But none of them was worthy. In fact, the beautiful, lovely, and very insightful Kaguya thought they were all jerks. Only the prince could win her heart. But the old bamboo cutter didn't want to give her up, so the prince had to prove himself with a lot of really dangerous tasks . . . which, of course, he completed with perfect success, 'cause he was one heckuva prince."
Usagi giggled.
"But then one day, a great, silver bird flew down from the moon, carrying strange people on its back. *Very* strange people."
"Hey!"
Mamoru laughed and stroked her face with the knuckle of his forefinger. "They said that Kaguya was really the princess of the moon kingdom, and it was time to take her home. The four, creepy lords all got jealous and fought the people from the moon, but the moon people had powerful magic and defeated the lords. So Princess Kaguya joined them on the back of the great bird to return to the moon. Of course, the tall, dark, handsome, brave, and admirably humble prince had to go along, because he was too deeply in love with the moon princess to ever be parted from her.
"But the bamboo cutter was so grieved over the loss of his adopted daughter, that she took pity on him, and waved magic dust over him to make him forget everything."
"And then?" said Usagi, looking up.
"They all lived happily ever after . . . fighting the forces of evil now and then." Mamoru squeezed her tight. He had always thought the "Tale of the Bamboo Cutter" sounded like an ancient, Japanese account of alien abduction, but Usagi liked it, and Mamoru would do anything to lift her spirits right now.
"How was the meeting with your military advisors?" said Usagi.
"Uh, very good. Very hopeful."
"Don't lie, Mamo-chan. Luna tells me everything."
"What did she tell you?" said Mamoru.
"That Beryl got in because she found a 'source of darkness' in our palace, and that it was the hatred between you and Zoisite. Why did Zoe hate you so much?"
"I took her crystals."
"Aw, c'mon." Usagi shifted so she could face Mamoru. "It had to be more than that. I think you two have a past you never told me about."
"W-what do you mean?" Mamoru felt his stomach turn cold.
"I know you can't remember everything from the Silver Millennium, but were you and Zoisite ever an item?"
"Never!" For all his past life amnesia, Mamoru knew this much.
"Did she, or *he* ever like you? I mean, that way, and you didn't return it?"
"Um, uh . . . " Mamoru searched his mind. He'd never considered this. He knew about Zoisite's relationship with Princess Mercury, but had there been other feelings? Earlier, perhaps?
"I don't know," he finally answered. "I can't remember." Another thought surfaced--one he'd been trying to ignore. But today was *Yutate-Sai,* or Great Purification, and if he was to charge into battle a clean man, he would have to come clean with Usagi and 'fess up.
Mamoru cleared his throat. "Um . . . Usako, there is a reason Zoisite's hatred was so strong. Something I did during the Second Awakening."
"Besides fighting her every day?"
"Remember the fight in the Christian cemetery? When your friend, Naru, went to her Catholic priest with that strip of cloth she'd ripped from her shirt to bind Nephrite's arm, and she wanted to use it for a funeral ritual? It was that night."
"After I healed Naru's priest, you disappeared with that crystal. Didn't Zoisite chase you?"
"Yes, but I turned and caught her instead. Down by an old, fish market."
"Then what?"
"I . . . " Mamoru coughed. "I was so angry, and I wanted revenge, and I did it quickly before I could think about it, like a stupid--"
"Did what? Scratch her face?"
"I raped her." Mamoru forced himself to look straight into Usagi's eyes.
"What?"
"Usako--"
"Omigod. Mamo--" She jerked away from him. "You didn't."
"I did. Look, if there was only one thing in all my lives that I could undo, that would be it! Usako, please! I was a kid! And Zoisite . . . oh!" Mamoru pushed his bangs from his eyes.
The horror in Usagi's face changed to an unreadable expression. Her mouth froze open and her fingers reached up to pinch her lower lip. "You . . . did you ever do this to anyone else?"
"Just Zoisite, and just that once. After I let her go, and I, I realized what I had just used my magic for, I got sick all over the sidewalk going home. But she never forgot, and she's still got that scar--the one under her left eye. I gave it to her." Mamoru took a deep breath, opening and closing his fists. "So now you know."
Usagi touched her face, as if to make sure she wasn't dreaming. "I can't believe . . . I just can't believe . . . No wonder Beryl woke up! You owe Zoisite big time."
"She paid us back."
"You don't think she really helped Beryl take our baby, do you?"
"She knew about it all along. She didn't deny it."
Usagi settled herself on the cushion before Mamoru. She almost took his hands, but then drew back and tucked her fingers into the folds of her dressing gown. "Maybe Zoi-chan couldn't talk. Maybe Beryl was lying."
"I don't know," said Mamoru. "She certainly had reason to hurt me."
Minutes passed in silence. Mamoru wanted desperately to pull Usagi back into his arms, but he couldn't.
Finally, Usagi said, "If Zoe's innocent, you're gonna have to make it up to her. I don't know how. But you have to. And you're going to have to be a father to her baby, even if it is half oni."
"And if Zoisite's guilty?"
"We can't possibly know that."
"What if we could?" said Mamoru. "What if we find out beyond any doubt that she knew about the kidnapping plan all along, and was hiding it from us?"
"Then . . . I don't know. But right now, I don't want to touch you. Get away from me and stand over there. I can't believe you'd . . . but we don't have time to argue about this, do we?" Usagi sighed and shook her head, shelving the thought for later. "What did your advisors tell you today?"
Mamoru was relieved to change the subject. He stood up and walked to the window, hands in his pockets.
"We've got to figure out which kimon Beryl plans to use." There were two kimon, or "demon gates" they had to worry about--the palace kimon at the edge of the gardens, over which Rei's shrine stood, and the one located at the farthest, northeast point of Crystal Yedo, about two kilometers from the palace. The kimon were necessary, vulnerable points between worlds, which couldn't be eliminated any more than one could get rid of the northeast. There were others in Crystal Yedo--every cottage had its own; but blasting through a little house kimon would destroy the house, and hence, the kimon, so Beryl wouldn't likely waste her energy on those.
"If Beryl's oni troops come through the palace kimon," said Mamoru, "they'll be right on top of us. But your wards are pretty strong there, and it'll take a lot of energy for Beryl to break through."
"If she's got Usa's scepter, she can do it."
Mamoru nodded, although he knew little about these matrilineal scepters. Once, he'd asked Usagi where she got her moon stick. She said the "Mother Queen" from the moon had given it to her. Whatever.
Usa's scepter had just appeared one morning. It was shortly after the wedding, when he had taken Usagi up to Hokkaido to see the Northern Lights. They spent the night under the stars, while green ribbons flashed and crackled across the sky. When they awoke at dawn, there was a shiny, new scepter lying beside them. That was how Usagi knew they had just conceived a princess.
"But doesn't Usa's scepter harness *positive* energy?" said Mamoru. "What's going to happen when Beryl uses it?"
Usagi wrinkled her brow. "I'm not sure. Nothing like this has ever happened before. But if she can harness it, it'll open the palace kimon, no problem."
"But maybe Beryl would rather conserve energy, and send her troops through the kimon at the outer edge of Crystal Yedo. If she does that, we'll at least have some distance between them and us, and we can defend the palace." Mamoru touched the window screen. "But either way, we're still sitting ducks, and I don't like it. If only we could keep Beryl's oni from jumping into Earth."
"Impossible," said Usagi. "Tokyo's full of kimon. Even if I put a ward over the one behind the arcade, the demons have a million others they can use. What we have to do is break into the Dark Kingdom and stop Beryl in her own lair."
"How can we break into Jigoku? I doubt Kunzite's gonna invite me."
Suddenly, Usagi's eyes lit up. "Kunzite!" she said. "That's it!"
"Huh?"
"Luna said that a 'source of darkness' let Beryl into Crystal Yedo. So why wouldn't the opposite work? If we find a source of light in Jigoku, we should be able to break through Beryl's ward, just like she broke through mine!"
"Kunzite's a source of light?" said Mamoru, cringing.
"Don't you see? If there's love between two people in Beryl's court, then the evil of Jigoku has a serious flaw. But they can't just be sexually attracted; it's got to be a true love so strong, they'd do anything for each other. Give up anything."
"You think Zoisite and Kunzite's love is that strong?"
"If it's not," said Usagi, "then we're in trouble. It's our only hope."
Mamoru heard scratching at the door, which he recognized as kitty claws on teakwood.
"Enter," he called. The door panel cracked open just enough to let Luna in. She was followed by her mate, Artemis, the white cat who had trained Minako back when the senshi were still school girls in modern Tokyo.
"Mamoru," said Luna, "the shogun has just arrived with his entourage from Kyoto and is coming to greet you."
Mamoru turned to Usagi. "I want you to stay in bed and regain some strength."
"I have to call the scouts, so we can plan how we're going to break into Jigoku!"
"Usagi--"
"It's my baby and my battle!"
"But you're weak; you need rest."
"I'll be fine."
Mamoru looked pleadingly at the black cat. "Luna, talk some sense into her. She needs to sleep today."
"But it's the Yutate-Sai," said Luna. "As Sailor Moon, she must perform the final cleansing before our troops go into battle."
"Okay. But after that, you have to make her go to bed."
"Hmph! I couldn't make her go to bed when she was fourteen."
Artemis yowled to get Mamoru's attention. "The shogun is approaching the palace," he said. "I suggest you hurry and suit up."
"Do I really have to wear armor for a tea ceremony?"
"You should be wearing it at all times now; an attack could be imminent. The warriors are staying prepared. Besides, your armor is light and should be perfectly comfortable."
Sure, thought Mamoru, padding over to an alcove across the room from the tokonoma, where his armor and weapons hung. First, he tied on a pair of shin protectors and knee guards, made from tough rawhide and light plates of steel. Then, with some difficulty, he climbed into his armored coat, which included a cuirass and armored skirt panels made of folding metal plates, laced together with sinew. It was light enough for movement, but still pretty heavy, and hopefully strong enough to fend off an energy attack or two. On his breastplate was the triple-swirl mitsutomoe, plated in gold and surrounded by the gold chrysanthemums of Japan's imperial emblem--something to remind him that the armor of Crystal Yedo was more than just leather and steel, that it was sacred and endowed with special protection.
"You must live by the code of the samurai," said the white cat. "Physical comfort is of minor importance."
*At least it's a cool day,* Mamoru thought as he laced into the shoulder plates and arm guards. His helmet, which he would just carry for now, was fashioned from curved metal leaves, riveted together with the nape guard and topped with the lunar crescent over a ringed, wooden disk symbolizing Crystal Nihon.
"Have you bathed?" said Artemis.
"Yes."
"But you've been sitting with Usagi."
"Usagi is not a contamination."
"But she's just had a baby. You know our sacred customs here, and if you've touched--"
Mamoru silenced the cat with a sharp glare. "Save it! Usagi's bodily fluids are not my biggest concern right now." He frowned as he reached for his sandals.
*Our baby daughter's in Hell, in the arms of my enemy, our palace is about to be trampled by demons, and our Grand Chamberlain and Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal are a couple of Confucian housecats. What more can the Gods drop on my shoulders?*
Suddenly, Mamoru was startled by a blast outside that sounded like an erupting geyser.
"What . . . was . . . that?"
"Oh," said Artemis. "I forgot to tell you. Something from Kyoto has just landed in the courtyard gardens."
"Landed?"
"You'll see." Artemis turned to Luna. "Help Usagi prepare for tonight's ceremony. I'll accompany Mamoru to the throne pavilion."
The last thing Mamoru did before leaving his living chambers was to strap on his sword girdle, attach his jeweled wakizashi short sword, and take down his katana. Apparently, this deadly length of dark gray, tempered steel was the same weapon he had carried back when he was a samurai prince a thousand years ago. The ancient blade, being much straighter than the swords of the Tokugawa era, had most of its curve near the tang. It had been forged by an ancestor of the master sword maker, Masamune, and allegedly tested on the bodies of captured demons. Every time he gripped the black, leather binding of the hilt, memories would come flooding back like distant voices and dark, faded visions. But it was fleeting, like trying to remember a dream after waking up. He held the sword for a moment, feeling its weight and balance before re-sheathing it.
"I'll see you at the shrine," he said to Usagi, who nodded as he bowed out of the room.
As Mamoru coursed alongside his furry advisor down the hallway, he tried to listen to the information Artemis was reciting, but the noise outside was distracting.
"Our tengu army from Mount Kurama is setting up camp along the hillside southwest of the palace. The Lieutenant General of Kurama is leading two, standard 'B' divisions of twenty thousand goblins, organized into four brigades."
*"Goblins?"* said Mamoru.
"Most of the mountain people of Crystal Nihon are goblins. They're our finest warriors. A lot tougher than the faerie of the valleys."
*A lot uglier and more dangerous, too.* Mamoru had never met a goblin. He didn't want to.
"The army from Hokkaido," continued Artemis, "is camped due west, and our forces from Kyushu and Shikoku are flanking our eastern side. And I should tell you . . . um, have you ever met the shogun?"
"No."
"Be very respectful. He's a Kurama Mountain goblin, and has a notorious temper."
"Great," said Mamoru. "Are all the daimyo lords in his entourage also Kurama Mountain goblins?"
"No," said Artemis.
"Whew. That's a relief."
"Most of them are from Mount Fuji."
Upon entering the courtyard gardens, Mamoru almost fell backwards. Alongside the lily pond curled a black reptile larger than any dinosaur he had ever seen at the museum. At its widest girth, the snake-like body was as big as a little house. The grinning beast had four legs, but seemed to prefer slithering. Along its back rippled waves of leathery wings . . . or were they fins? Mamoru saw four long ridges of them, each spanning about twelve feet. It tail was in the water, stirring the pond.
Its head was shaped almost like a dog's, with a pug snout and big, brown, rolling eyes. It was shaking the water from its wings, making it rain over the garden. Long, fleshy, barbels covered its mouth and cheeks like a red beard, and Mamoru could see rows of sharp teeth.
"She's the special pet of the shogun's youngest daughter," said Artemis. "Dragons can fight, of course, but they mostly lend good fortune by their presence. This one originally came from Manchuria, I'm told. She's over two hundred years old, and one of only four such animals in all of Crystal Nihon."
A geyser of pond water spouted from the blow-hole at its neck. Suddenly, the tangle of crimson-tipped fins over its eyes opened like a hibiscus blossom, and Mamoru saw Minako sitting astride the creature's head.
"Mamo-san!" she cried, waving her arms in greeting. She was wearing an orange and white yukata. Her long, blonde hair was pulled back with a clashing red bow.
"What are you doing?" screamed Mamoru.
"You gotta take a ride on this thing! Omigod, it's fun!"
"Get down from there!"
"All right," said Minako. She leaned over the dragon's ear hole and called out a command in Mandarin. The beast then lowered its head to the ground, and Minako climbed off, staggering slightly to catch her balance.
"Oh yes!" she said. "Oh, Hell yes! I gotta get a dragon! This is better than a car!"
"You're crazy!"
Artemis said, "It's mate is staying behind in Kyoto to guard the shogun's castle, and the third dragon has to remain at the farthest, northeastern kimon of Hokkaido."
"So, where's the fourth?" said Mamoru.
The petal-like, crimson fins over the beast's brow fanned open into full bloom, revealing a little dragon about the size of a pony. The hatchling had been sleeping behind Minako, curled up on its mother's head. It uncoiled its shiny, black body, stretched out its wings and legs, flexed its claws, opened its jaws and honked.
"Sounds like a vintage micro-bus," said Mamoru, as the hatchling climbed down and let it's mother nudge it into the pond. It paddled through the lilies like a giant, black swan with its back arched, then dove under for a few seconds, surfacing with a large, black and white, spotted fish half-way down its gullet.
"That's the baby whose hatching Rei and I got to see in Kyoto!" said Minako, striding over to Mamoru. "Her name is Gùngjyú, which is Chinese for 'Princess.' Isn't she cute?"
"Real cute," said Mamoru, grimacing at the remains of a fish tail hanging from its jaws. "Cute appetite, too. Princess just downed a fifty-year-old ornamental koi." He turned to Artemis. "Tell the servants to bring some fish from the kitchen before this thing cleans out our pond."
The hatchling honked again and snaked along the water's edge. It sniffed at a lily, then nosed under to root it up.
"Is the mother this destructive?" whispered Mamoru, standing at the edge, watching the infant happily root up several lotus plants with its snout.
"Shhh," said Artemis. "A dragon's presence will augment our powers."
"But is Crystal Yedo a safe place right now for the only baby dragon in Japan?"
"The mother and daughter are the most auspicious and powerful of all; and if Crystal Yedo goes, everything goes. That's why Usagi and her court mustn't evacuate. C'mon. Let's go meet the shogun."
In the throne pavilion, the shogun sat on the dais, adjacent to Mamoru's right. Artemis stayed a little farther off to his left. On the tatami mats before him, his seven chief counselors faced the shogun's seven daimyo lords. The contrast couldn't have been greater.
Mamoru's councilors were faerie, with long, slender limbs, delicate features, shiny, iridescent hair pulled into neat top-knots, and rich, brocaded coats that shimmered with metallic threads and jeweled fasteners. They held their tea bowls with white fingers as dainty as those of an oyster shell doll.
The goblins were squat, winged beings covered in mottled, brown fur that poked out in tufts from their course, rawhide-and-steel armor. They had small, black eyes positioned close together over their snouts, and wide, papery ears that twitched and pivoted like satellite dishes. Their wings, which were actually their arms and hands, were black and leathery, folded over their shoulders. They looked like bats, thought Mamoru. The shogun held his mouth in a permanent, panting grin full of needle-sharp teeth, and he kept swaying back and forth over his tea bowl. His helmet, a frightful, steel mask with horns, sat beside him.
*In no way do I want to offend this guy.* Mamoru hoped he would remember all the nuances of etiquette. At least he could finally kneel in the seiza position for a long time without putting his legs to sleep.
"How is the tea?" he said.
"Good," grunted the shogun, flashing his teeth and rocking slightly. Despite the goblins' rude, menacing appearance, they were all immaculately clean for people who had just traveled across Japan.
"I hope you and your warriors had a good journey."
"Very good. It is an auspicious day. I feel the Kami wind of victory in the air."
That's good, thought Mamoru.
"Glory follows the emperor!" said the shogun.
*Very good. You're doing okay so far, Tux. Just remember not to lay your stir stick where it's pointing at anybody.*
"When is Yutate-Sai?"
"Tonight, at dusk," said Mamoru. Usagi was probably in the tea pavilion by now, holding her own, more informal war council with the senshi. He envied her. Chocolate-chip ice cream with friends felt a lot more appealing right now than glutinous rice balls and bitter tea with the fiercest military commanders of Crystal Nihon.
"The empress and her scouts are forming a plan to break into Jigoku and confront Beryl before her oni can attack us," he said.
"Ahh," said the shogun. "But let us hope the senshi do not steal our glorious battle away from us, and deny us the pleasure of spilling oni blood! Ha, ha!" The shogun rocked back on his heels and barked with laughter, followed by the guffaws of his goblin lords.
"Ha, ha," chuckled Mamoru, trying to sound sincerely amused. "Good joke!" His back was starting to hurt, and the sweat under his armor stung. If he could just live through this tea ceremony, plunging his hands into scalding water during Yutate-Sai would be a breeze.
"Are you all right?" said Rei, after she had finished intoning her prayer for success in battle.
Mamoru felt the weight of her hand on his back and opened his eyes. Yes, the little make-shift altar still sat before him. No, he wasn't getting out of this. Flexing his leg muscles, he raised himself up slightly onto his heels so he could continue holding the seiza position. Wearing armor, however light and flexible, wasn't making this any easier.
It was twilight outside; he'd been wearing this armor for hours. It wouldn't be long before he started to stink. He tried to savor the sweet smelling votives and oils on the simple altar, admire the pleasing arrangement of rice dishes, seaweed and saké that Rei had set before the Kami spirits.
"How are you feeling?" whispered Rei. "Truthfully."
"Scared shitless."
"You can do this."
"No problem," said Mamoru, forcing a smile. "I plunge my bare hands into pots of boiling water all the time."
"It's for Usa." Dressed in her white kimono with black hakama pantaloons, Rei took up her black, lacquered clogs and adjusted the black eboshi cap tied over her long hair. They were alone in the portable shrine that had been carried to the grounds outside the southern face of the palace. It was a small box with barely enough room for two people to kneel. A curtain hid them from the throng of warriors waiting outside.
With a fresh wand of white, paper streamers that had never been used, Rei brushed Mamoru's left shoulder, then right, then left again. "The Kami are with you," she whispered before exiting the shrine to bless and "purify" the bubbling cauldron outside.
Mamoru bowed low until his nose touched the mat. Now he was alone. Alone with whatever spirits, real or imagined, attended this most sacred of cleansing ceremonies. What now? Could he pray? He had never decided whether he even believed in the Kami, the gods of Shinto. Sure, he'd been to shrine many times back in Tokyo. New Years, Coming-Of-Age, spring and fall festivals--these were just things everyone did.
But this . . . What was going to save his wife and child? Save his friends and this strange country he had to lead? What could give him courage to thrust his hands into a cauldron of boiling water, and why was it so absolutely important that he do so?
The drums began to sound-- not tinny, little, hand drums like at the Tokyo shrines. These were big animal hides stretched over frames as wide as a tent. Steady, slowly accelerating beats were pounded out by warriors who knew how to face death.
Mamoru shut his eyes and let the spices from the votives and oils blend with the smell of sweat, of food, of alcohol--breathing into his nostrils, filling his senses. The sooty fog that hid his past parted like a curtain, allowing a glimpse into a bygone time and battle, when he wore armor and swung his katana to fight the First Awakening of Beryl. Usagi, of the distant, celestial kingdom, was his barbarian princess of golden hair, and the four lords who had abandoned him now faced him as enemies.
Mamoru opened his eyes just as a drop of sweat fell from his brow onto the mat. It was not just a dream. He was that samurai prince, and it was time to fight. He rose and picked up his helmet.
About a hundred thousand souls filled the hillsides of Crystal Yedo, stretching from the western to the eastern flanks of the palace. They all stopped and dropped to their knees in silence as Mamoru emerged from the shrine into the open, evening air. It was like watching a rippling wave in which he was the center.
The land curved around him from the foothills to his right, swinging past the faint edges of the ocean to the valleys on his left. It fell from him in terraced rings, green and gold for the harvest. This was one of Mamoru's rare glimpses of his kingdom outside the palace courtyard, and were he in modern Tokyo, he would now be facing the glass and steel towers of the downtown financial districts, the concrete high-rises and neon boulevards.
The sun was just disappearing behind the foothills. A breeze began to ruffle the blue and red dyed hemp cloth of his hakama and tunic sleeves. It cooled his heavy, damp hair. Still glowing, the horizon was rapidly deepening to violet, then indigo and midnight blue, as a band of stars arched over the heavens to make their torii--the original torii.
Mamoru put on his helmet.
*Auspicious day* were the words in his mind. Rei had just finished blessing the boiling water, and was scattering droplets from a single leaf of the sacred sakaki tree. The fire beneath the great, iron kettle crackled and smoldered. Mamoru took a deep, vigorous breath of smoky air and commanded the drummers to resume their pounding.
Two young, faerie miko rose to face the cauldron, since dancing was the proper way to begin this spiritual battle. Dressed in nothing but red skirts, with their hair pulled back tight in white ribbons, they held their bell wands and white streamers before their faces as they began to bow and spin around the fire. Mamoru watched the sweat gleam between their pubescent breasts in the orange glow as they shook their bell wands at the four corners of the world. It was far more primal and erotic than miko dances of modern shrines.
Then Rei stepped forward and took Mamoru's katana. Sword raised high over her head, she circled the fire just as the two miko had done. Cutting in all four directions, she slashed through the steam to sever the hold of evil and open the curtain shrouding Mamoru's destiny. The pounding grew faster, louder.
Moving with the unconscious surety of ritual as deep as instinct, Mamoru re-sheathed his sword and approached the cauldron, facing the foothills of the western horizon. The drums stopped. The warriors held their breath. All was suddenly silent except for the whispered notes of Rei's prayer.
Mamoru found his own lips moving with her words. Then his hands clapped twice and he bowed low to the ground. After the fourth bow, he rose, stretched out his right hand, and with a piercing cry dashed the hand into the roiling water.
Drums and cymbals banged in a frenzy while water splashed and sizzled on the hot fire stones at Mamoru's feet. His hand was out and back into the air, spraying drops of water from his fingertips.
Rei wetted a bundle of sakaki twigs to fling sacred drops over the backs of the chief samurai officers who knelt closest to the fire. Soon, they both had branches in the pot, sweeping them up into the air to wet the four corners of the universe, drenching their own garments in the process. Amazingly, although his hand was slightly pink, Mamoru didn't feel burned.
When the pot was nearly empty, Rei motioned for Mamoru to stop and look over his shoulder. Standing behind him was Usagi, dressed in the twelve-layered kimono of high ceremony, with headdress, train, and sleeves that hung to the ground. Her colors were blue and red accents over white, with touches of yellow. The three other senshi stood behind her, also in bright, court garb, in their own colors--blue and white for Ami, green, white and pink for Makoto, and white and orange for Minako.
Usagi stepped forward with her crescent moon scepter held high.
"Who will be healed tonight?" she called out in the clearly articulated voice she only used when asserting authority.
There were a few furtive glances among the goblin officers, but it was Mamoru who finally approached her. He hadn't planned to be the one to sacrifice his remaining darkness to the Kami; but now, it somehow felt right, even seemly.
"You?" Usagi blinked.
"Me," said Mamoru, bending to his knees and lowering his head before her.
A ripple of whispered gasps rolled across the throng, followed by reverent silence. Mamoru, although he could see nothing but the clover under his clasped hands, could feel Usagi's energy gathering. He could feel her focus through the glint of the scepter, feel her drawing the circle around him.
But before she could speak the healing words, the woven energy was suddenly ripped like a piece of cloth. It felt like claws lashing through Mamoru's soul. He jerked up. The hills around the palace, waiting in silence just a moment ago, were now shaking with the war cries of startled tengu. A volcano of dark energy was erupting through the palace kimon just beyond the edge of the courtyard gardens.
By the time he turned around, the officers who had been kneeling around the shrine were already running, shouting orders to their subordinates, rounding up their warriors. And a ring of guards appeared around Mamoru, Usagi and the court.
Usagi grabbed Mamoru's arm. "Stay here!" she shouted. "This is the safest place we can be, outside the southern wall!"
"But I'm armed for battle!" said Mamoru, pulling on his helmet.
"You don't have to prove anything to these guys."
"I have to prove something to myself." With a bow to Usagi and the court, Mamoru dashed through the protected circle to find his battle.
But by the time he reached a vantage point on the northwest hillside, standing on a tuft of abandoned earth to see what was going on, it looked as if there was not much left for him to do. Waves of oni came springing like lava out of the ground at the kimon, but the tengu goblins on horseback had surrounded them, shooting them down with arrows.
Perhaps "horseback" wasn't the correct term, for Mamoru wasn't certain these white, shaggy creatures the goblins rode were horses. They thundered up the terraced hillside around the palace like a stampede of Arctic yaks or giant rams with deadly horns and hooves. The bows the tengu carried looked like the short-bows the mongolian hordes had used to take over ancient China. The goblins wore hideous iron masks with their helmets, that almost made them look like oni themselves. Their wings opened in the wind like ragged, black sails, and their war cry sounded like twenty thousand subway trains taking sharp corners on un-oiled track.
The oni, who were really just youma--elemental spirits captured and held by Beryl--had obviously been morphed to Beryl's design. She had made a uniform army of scuttling and leaping crab-like monsters the size of draft horses, the likes of which would never be able to withstand the weight of their own exoskeletons on Earth. The grooves that formed the back of their shells looked just like human skulls.
*Nice touch,* thought Mamoru, watching the gravity-defying crustaceans get slaughtered as they tried to storm the palace grounds. Those that didn't fall by an arrow were cut down by foot soldiers swinging pre-Heian period straight swords.
Finally, the little piece of hillside holding the kimon was blasted beyond recognition, and the kimon vanished, allowing no more oni. The dead bodies were already beginning to vanish into the earth.
Mamoru covered his ears through the tengu victory shout, as he returned to Usagi at the southern wall.
"We're trouncing them!" said Mamoru.
The shogun appeared and slapped Mamoru's back. "Feast tonight, yes? But this battle's so easy, it is almost not worth a feast! Ha, ha!"
But suddenly, in the midst of all the laughing and shouting, Rei pitched forward into the dirt. Her two crows came screaming through the air toward the court.
"Rei!" cried Mamoru and Usagi. Mamoru leaped to the priestess' side. She was gasping for breath and clutching the front of her temple robe.
"What's the matter?" said Mamoru. "We're winning this battle hands down!"
Rei was shivering violently. "This is no battle."
"Huh?"
"It's nothing but a minor diversion. The kimon . . . the *outer kimon*--the big one up the road . . . just opened."
Zoisite recalled a bright, spring morning, when the clover felt fresh under his toes. Full sun warmed his face and arms. Dressed in a light yukata--white with pink cherry blossoms, he bowed low to the strange woman who cast no shadows.
She was taller than any queen of Japan, with hair that coiled in ringlets like copper shavings down to the hem of her long, blue gown. Her face was delicate and pointed like the spirit people who dwelled in the valleys around Prince Mamoru's palace, and her eyes were larger than a barbarian's.
And her amazing powers . . . When she summoned Zoisite to meet her at the glade beyond the northern edge of the village, he had expected some kind of camp with tents, not this breathtaking pavilion carved from stone. He found himself surrounded by a ring of white pillars sprouting from the earth, capped with lintels. There were stories of barbarians in far off lands to the west who carved their pavilions from pure, white stone, but Zoisite had always regarded such tales as nothing more than fantasy, like stories about towers to the sky.
"You may raise your head and sit up," said Queen Beryl. "Do you like my temple?"
"I have never seen anything so beautiful, Honored One."
"It is nothing compared to the splendor of my country. Wait until you see the great, stone palace I am giving you. It was hewn from a solid mountain. You can see streaks of pure gold and silver in the walls, wander through endless rooms under high, vaulted ceilings. The floor of the audience chamber is pure, polished obsidian, and you shall have abundant servants for every need. I promise, you will completely forget your mundane life as a lackey in the court of your incompetent prince."
The foreign queen tapped the ground with her long, bronze scepter. Entwined with iron tendrils that bloomed at the top around a smoky, glass sphere, the staff looked almost organic. And Zoisite noticed, with wonder and just a twinge of discomfort, that Queen Beryl's staff didn't cast any shadows either. Was she actually standing there, or was this just a projected illusion?
She said, "Did you get the information we need?"
"H-hai." Zoisite pulled a small scroll from his sleeve. "Everything is here; the size and strength of his army, the names within the court, and the names of the magic attacks . . . all you need."
"Well done," said Queen Beryl. "You always were the clever one. Where is your prince now?"
"He has left Crystal Nihon to revel in the foreign court of his barbarian harlot." Zoisite spat out his words like bitter venom.
"Just like him. But take heart, Honorable Zoisite; we stand at the threshold of new leadership. Now . . ." A scroll appeared from the air and floated into the queen's hand. And crystallizing on the clover before Zoisite's knees was a small, stone table with an ink block, brush and dagger. "Are you ready to join me?"
Zoisite nodded, wondering uneasily what the dagger was for. But he took a deep breath and pushed back any feelings of fear and guilt. He had to do this if Crystal Nihon was to escape the weak leadership of the arrogant, indulgent Prince Mamoru. He could not stand back and watch the incompetent prince become Emperor of the upper realm. The prince had thwarted Zoisite's ambitions with empty promises and threats for long enough, and Zoisite could suffer no more.
And with the power his allegiance to the foreign queen would bring him, he could regain the favor of Princess Mercury. That would be even sweeter than revenge on the prince.
Zoisite took up the ink block, spit into it and began rubbing the pestle stone across the groove to create the ink.
"Spit and blood," said Queen Beryl, pointing at the dagger.
*"Nani?"*
"You must use both spit and blood, or our pact will not bind."
*Of course.* Zoisite nodded, lay down the block and pestle and drew the tip of the freshly sharpened dagger across the pad of his thumb. He winced as he squeezed a few drops into the ink block, but when he finally took up the brush and wrote his name in calligraphy down the scroll, the ink was a deep, rich, beautiful burgundy.
Then he pulled out the little, wooden name stamp that hung around his throat.
"Use only blood," said the queen.
Zoisite squeezed another drop onto the stamp and pressed his ideogram to the scroll.
Suddenly, the queen began to laugh, and her delicate face twisted right before Zoisite's unbelieving eyes, until she looked like a serpent.
"Ha! I've caught the third one! Only the fourth is left!"
Zoisite gasped and fell back. Immediately, some strange force pinned his wrists to the ground, which now felt oddly cold, as if a carpet of ice needles had replaced the clover. Queen Beryl's fingers, suddenly long and gnarled, with claws, reached out and snapped the name stamp off the string around Zoisite's throat.
"You won't be needing this," she said as the stamp vanished in her fist. From nowhere, a band of insectoid oni pounced on Zoisite, shredding his yukata, then disappearing just as quickly, leaving him naked under the full sun.
The full sun? What was happening to him? His skin was burning!
"Are you coming or not?" said the queen, releasing the binding over Zoisite's wrists. He looked up to see a black portal gaping before him. The evil emanating from it was so palpable it turned Zoisite's stomach. But it was out of the sun, which had never burned him before. He cried out in pain, afraid to enter what he now realized was Queen Beryl's realm--the realm of the fabled Dark Kingdom! And this temple was really a . . . a *kimon!*
"We are waiting, Zoisite. Your comrades, Jadeite and Nephrite, are already within. Kunzite-sama will join us shortly."
"He'll never . . . be so fooled!" stammered Zoisite, writhing as his skin began to peel and blister. He screamed.
"Oh, the Captain of His Majesty's Royal Guard may be a hard sell," said Beryl. "But I think he's secretly fond of you, and won't hold out forever. Now, come inside before you roast. First, we'll fit you with a proper uniform. Then we'll work on your attitude, little traitor."
Zoisite couldn't stand the burning. He crawled into the sanctuary of darkness, begging out loud for Prince Mamoru to return quickly and save him, fearing that it was too late . . .
Princess Chibi Usa began to cry again, interrupting Zoisite's reverie. But it was just as well, because this memory was not one Zoisite liked to indulge.
The infant sprawled on its back on the cold, stone floor, whimpering. It was caked in its own filth, as was Zoisite, who hardly even noticed the stench anymore. The putrid food and water the oni had dumped into the cell had made Zoisite ill, and the stones ran slick with the result. Zoisite tried to lift Usa, but the baby screamed until she let it alone.
How did it live? wondered Zoisite. One couldn't really keep track of time in this dark pit, but it must've been several days since Usa's birth, and the enfanta still refused to nurse. Any normal baby would've died from hunger and dehydration by now. Was the energy of Usa's scepter somehow nourishing her? How much longer could that work?
Usa wailed, then started screaming.
"Quiet!" snapped Zoisite. "I'm in enough trouble as it is! Don't make it worse!" Zoisite placed her head between her naked, soiled knees to still the pounding behind her eyes. "Don't your lungs ever wear out?"
If only she hadn't been so harsh with Kunzite. He was only trying to comfort her, in his own, Jigoku way. And now he probably thought she didn't ever want to see him again. If he would just visit her once more, she could tell him not to misunderstand her; she wasn't trying to make him jealous of Ami. It wasn't like that at all! Ami was just her only friend!
But Kunzite hadn't come back since that first visit. No one came to see her in this deepest, darkest pit of Hell. Zoisite could take the cold, the sickness and Usa's screaming if it weren't for the terrible loneliness. Even Mamoru would've been a comfort now. She ached for Kunzite's arms and began to fear for his safety. Was he still alive? Would Beryl even tell her if Kunzite were killed? Maybe that was why Kunzite hadn't come back. Zoisite trembled, wondering if her demand upon Kunzite had been fatally foolish.
The baby cried harder.
"Shut up!" The crying was incessant. "Shut up! Shut up!" Usa, who never seemed to sleep, screamed endlessly, not allowing Zoisite any sleep either. Zoisite couldn't take anymore. She reached down and seized the infant's wrinkled, little shoulders.
"I said, shut up!" Usa continued wailing. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" Zoisite's fingers squeezed harder, her frustration turning to rage at the screaming, little ball between her hands. For a flash, she envisioned herself dashing the baby against the floor, shaking it into silence.
With a strangled cry, Zoisite threw herself to the stones, several feet away.
"Oh!" she gasped. "I almost shook its brains out!" She closed her eyes against the welling tears. "Beryl would kill me!
"Oh, who am I fooling? Beryl's going to kill me anyway . . . I'd be doing the brat a favor . . . she's better off dead than with us."
It took a while before Zoisite realized the crying had stopped. She froze. Had she indeed killed Usa? But then she noticed . . . *warmth!*
A white glow bathed the cell as Zoisite opened her eyes. Turned away from the baby, she couldn't see anything but the stone walls before her, but the light and warmth was coming from Usa's direction.
Zoisite was afraid to look.
She felt an armload of white feathers tumble weightlessly over her back. But when she shifted under them, they suddenly became a thick, white blanket, softer than cotton flannel.
And when Zoisite glanced down at her hands, they were clean! So were her arms and legs and the stones beneath her! The blood, filth and sickness had suddenly vanished, and the air smelled fresh. She distinctly heard humming--a popular lullaby in low, deep tones.
Trembling, Zoisite turned around.
Then she gasped. Crouched over the baby was a man with broad shoulders and flowing, auburn hair. He was dressed in a general's uniform much like Kunzite's, except that the gray shimmered like burnished silver, flashing to white when he moved. When Zoisite tried to look at him more closely, he seemed to fade into his own light.
The man's back was turned, but Zoisite could see his large, strong hands gently fitting a cloth diaper on Usa, who was also suddenly clean. The baby had stopped writhing, and was happily kicking her legs. For a brief moment, the man turned his head so that Zoisite could just make out the strong, masculine lines of his profile.
*Nephrite!*
Zoisite shrank back into her blanket. But the terror she should've felt seeing the ghost of her slaughtered enemy failed to rise. Instead, Zoisite found herself transfixed by the glow sparkling off the tips of his fingers and the ends of his hair.
He lifted Usa into his hands and stood up, cradling her against his chest. She looked so tiny, nestled in the crook of his arm, her head resting in his palm. He slowly paced around the cell, where the ceiling was high enough to clear his tall form. His voice was deep and soft.
Hush, hush, and go to sleep;
Blackbirds rest in yonder mountain.
You mustn't cry, but go to sleep,
Or the blackbirds will start to shrill again.
Then, with a kiss on Usa's head, he knelt beside Zoisite and placed the baby into her arms. Immediately, Usa nudged Zoisite's left breast and began to suckle. She could feel Nephrite's hand on her back--almost a physical pressure, but more like a tingle. And the kiss he planted on the top of her head was as soft and fleeting as a feather.
Then he vanished. But the blanket remained around Zoisite's shoulders, still just as warm. There was even some residual light in the cell. And in the corner lay a small pile of fresh, neatly folded diapers beside a bottle of water and a lunch tin Zoisite hadn't seen before.
Usa made small, contented noises as she suckled, patting the breast with her tiny fingers. It was so strange and wonderful, nourishing someone like this. Giving life instead of taking or using it! Cradling Usa's downy head in her hand, Zoisite held her close, feeling for the first time true affection for the baby, maybe even love. She smiled.
The darkest, coldest pit of Hell couldn't keep everyone out. Even here, someone cared.
END OF PART IX
Enjoying the story so far? Gentle reader, you may e-mail me at: johns877@tc.umn.edu