Queen Beryl knows how I fear to look upon Jadeite, thought Kunzite. And that is why she keeps him here, in her audience chamber. Kunzite gazed up at a clear crystal the size of a coffin standing on end. Trapped inside, Jadeite's beautiful, pale features were twisted in pain and terror, his fingers still clutching, frozen.

"Look at him," said Beryl, touching the crystal and feeding off the dark energy of Jadeite's perpetual agony. "What a lovely face. Those golden curls, that trim uniform. He promised so much, and delivered only disappointment. But I think I like him better this way. Mine to have and hold forever." Beryl drew her spiny fingers over the glassy smoothness. Each facet was perfect, like a cut gem.

She turned to Kunzite. "But you have grown careless in appearance. Where is your vibrant energy? Your pride? Sparks used to fly from you, Kunzite. Look to your grooming, so you can be like Jadeite here. I want only things of beauty surrounding me." She flicked her serpentine tongue over her fangs.

Kunzite swallowed. "How may I be of service, Most Honored One?"

"Tell me how Zoisite's 'enfanta' spell is progressing."

"I believe I have finally perfected it," said Kunzite, dropping his gaze to the floor.

"Good. There's been another change of plans. By word of the stars, the rabbit, Usagi, will litter prematurely. Her enfanta will come on the eighth month, not the ninth, so we must be ready."

"What about our planned attack on Crystal Yedo?"

"Everything will move up a month," said Beryl. "The attack of October will now be in September. Prepare your troops. With Usagi's enfanta in my possession, we will have more than enough energy for victory."

"The enfanta spell is complete, my troops can be prepared, but . . ."

"But what?" hissed Beryl.

"Usagi's protection ward is very strong. Nothing of Jigoku can breach it. The spell cannot reach Crystal Yedo, much less strike the palace."

Rippling the edges of her blue gown, which clung to her body like a sheath, Beryl glided around the crystal prison and drew up close to Kunzite. She could've made an attractive human, he thought, with her tall, regal bearing, her voluptuous lines and the coppery brilliance of her tresses. But that reptilian face! Kunzite looked down, avoiding her eyes.

"There is always a way," said Beryl, breath like hot sulfur. "To crack a crystal, one must find a fissure to drive in the wedge. Even the truest crystals have impurities. Somewhere in Usagi's palace, there must be a source of darkness. Perhaps there are two people in her court who hate each other. I'm not talking about mere annoyance; I mean deep, intense hatred, the kind that festers from an ugly, wounded past. Find this source of darkness, and you will have your fissure to drive in our spell."

"But how can I?" said Kunzite. "My youma spies cannot enter Crystal Yedo."

"How you do it does not concern me. Just find that hatred, or else . . . " Beryl didn't need to finish her sentence with Jadeite at her side. "One more thing you should know," she said. "I've woven a lock into your mind, so that as soon as you discover what we need, I shall be instantly informed. You are dismissed, Lord Kunzite."

Don't worry, Kunzite told himself as he passed through the dark corridors back to his chambers. Zoisite is out of there . . . She'd better be out of there! It had been over a month since he had given Zoisite the poison to secure her freedom, and it had taken every ounce of willpower he possessed to keep from running to Tokyo to find her. He wanted to see Zoisite more than anything, just to know she was alive and safe, far from Crystal Yedo. But the risk of getting caught was too great, and his peace of mind was not worth the price of Zoisite's soul.

Still, he thought. Zoisite's murderous spell would be cast in only four weeks! And the little rat knew nothing about it! If there was any chance she was still in Usagi's palace, if she had failed his instructions, he had to know!

Kunzite ducked inside his chamber, leaned against the stone wall for support and shook for a couple minutes, which he usually did after meeting with Beryl. Then he raised his eyes to the ceiling. He knew, against his better judgment, that he would go to Tokyo. The mission to scope out sources of darkness was too handy an excuse. Perhaps Zoisite had left some subtle mark for him to find. Or, Kunzite could check the hidden treasure reserves and see if they had been tapped.

If nothing else, thought Kunzite, Mamoru/Tuxedo Kamen might even be lurking about. That snip of an emperor could tell him what he needed to know.

After using some of his precious, dwindling energy to freshen his appearance, Kunzite opened the portal to Earth and departed for lowertown Tokyo.

"Usagi's back," said Makoto. "Chibi must be sitting right on her bladder, 'cause this is the third time she's gone since this festival started."

Minako-Venus was helping Usagi ascend her dais, carrying the glittering train of her festival robe. Cloud cover had blessed the middle-summer Fertility Festival, so Zoisite was able to go. And if the hot, July sun did peek through, Usagi's court was sheltered under the thatch roof of a small, wooden pavilion that stood just above the reveling crowd.

As Usagi settled herself, four attendants raised red, paper lanterns on bamboo poles over her head. She was decked out in full ceremonial costume: layered, red kimonos, jeweled headdress, a red, silk train, and rubies hanging from her ears and around her throat. Minako was also in festival garb-- something between a traditional Samurai coat and a cheerleading outfit. She kept interrogating Usagi and looking back at Zoisite.

"Thorns?" cried Minako. "She's got thorns growing inside her?" Minako turned. "Hey, Zoë! Are you having a baby, or a rosebush?"

"Both," answered Zoisite. "But the thorns don't hurt anymore."

"Even so! Can't we find a surgeon to take them out?"

"They're not real thorns!" said Usagi.

Minako paused, obviously a little confused. "O-kay," she said, scratching her nose. "And I thought I had a bizarre fantasy life!"

All the elfin-looking people of Crystal Yedo and the surrounding farms were crammed into the palace gardens to celebrate life with dancing, drumming, wild costumes and food. A giant, undulating dragon puppet reenacted the birth of the princess dragon of Kyoto. Actors with painted faces and wooden katanas staged legendary battles of ancient shoguns. Makoto, stuffing her face with squid, waved to Rei, who was presiding over the ceremonial rice garden with her grandfather and the miko priestesses. Even Ami made a little noise now and then.

But all those happy people only depressed Zoisite.

"What's with the black kimono?" said Minako, ruffling Zoisite's hair. "Who dressed you in that?"

"I did."

"You've been wearing nothing but black since Mamo boinked you last month. When are you gonna give it a rest?"

October, when Beryl attacks, thought Zoisite.

Minako pleaded with Ami. "Can't you do something?"

"I'm not her mother," said Ami, crossing her arms. "I don't tell her how to dress."

"But you don't wear black to a fertility festival!"

"Sorry," said Zoisite. "The attendants wouldn't give me anything red."

"That's true," said Makoto. "In fact, they were kinda mean about it."

Minako frowned. Just then, dancers approached with bright red banners, red lanterns and a painted red chair on bamboo poles. They beckoned for Usagi. With a great deal of giggling, she rose from her dais and let the attendants help her into the chair. Then the dancers carried her to the center of the courtyard, leading a procession of drums, flutes, bells and costumes.

"Hey!" cried Minako. "They forgot Zoisite!"

"They didn't forget her," said Makoto. "They're ignoring her."

Minako pounded her staff against the wooden platform and shouted, "Come back! Yo! Dancers! Yeah, you guys in the funny hats! Excuse me, but our Most Excellent Emperor has got two pumpkin vines, not just one! Or can't you count that high?"

"It's all right," said Zoisite.

"No, it's not! This is bare-faced discrimination, and I can't stand it!"

Zoisite was absently pulling petals off a sprig of azaleas she held in her lap. "Face it, Minako. My kid's an unwanted bastard."

Minako took Zoisite's chin. "Just because some back-assward, piss-poor excuse for a cultural tradition hands you a label, doesn't mean you have to take it!"

"But it's true. And I don't really care, because I don't even want this baby. The only reason I'm still pregnant is because Mamoru's controlling me with an obedience oath."

"I heard about that."

"The whole palace knows about it," said Zoisite. "And that's why they won't have anything to do with me. Not only am I 'Negatrash,' I'm a would be baby killer."

Minako turned to Ami. "What do you think?"

"You mean about what happened last month in the bath?" said Ami. "To be honest, I'm glad Zoisite didn't succeed, although I would not have judged her if she had. I hate to see anyone forced so unwillingly into motherhood."

"But if you have to go through with it," said Minako, resting her hand on Zoisite's shoulder, "at least we can honor you. Get up and sit on the dais."

"What? I can't sit in Usagi's place."

"Usagi is shakin' her stuff down on the dance floor. She won't mind." Minako pulled Zoisite to her feet and practically carried her to the little, wooden throne. "Sit . . . Not like that. Sit properly; you're important. Now for some color--" Minako pulled down a red, silk banner and draped it over Zoisite's shoulders. Then she plucked some hibiscus blossoms from a nearby shrub and made Zoisite a crimson crown. Last, Minako swiped two red, paper lanterns from the lintel and hung them overhead.

An officious attendant broke from the drums and dancing to march toward them, wagging his finger. "No red lanterns! No red cloth!"

"You got a problem, buddy?" said Minako.

"No red lanterns! No red cloth! What are you doing?"

"We're honoring birth and fertility."

"We are honoring birth and fertility!" barked the attendant, gesturing toward Usagi. "Give me those lanterns!"

"Would you deny red to our emperor's own mistress, who shared his bed and carries his child?"

"His mistress?" murmured Makoto. "Oh, sure."

The attendant paused, suddenly looking uncertain of his position.

"You set one, shod foot in this pavilion and violate the sacred space of Empress Usagi's personal court, you'll have to deal with me!"

The attendant backed off. Minako turned and straightened Zoisite's new robe. "You deserve to enjoy the day."

Zoisite sat, glumly admiring the beautiful silk Minako had wrapped her in. She could vaguely remember growing up a thousand years ago and dreaming as a child that one day she would preside over a royal matsuri, dressed in sumptuous, red silk, with red lanterns over her head. But somehow, reality wasn't as happy as her perfect fairy tale had been.

"Smile, Zoisite!" said Makoto. "Usagi is waving to you! And look, Mamo-kun came out of his tent! Let's all make faces at him. You too, Ami." Makoto and Minako made monster faces at Mamoru. Zoisite stuck out her tongue, but withdrew it in a flash.

"He smiled at me!" she said, balling her hands into fists.

"That's because you look cute up there," said Minako.

"But he has no right to think that!"

"You two need to stop feuding, and learn to get along, because when we kick Beryl's butt this winter, you'll be living on our side of the tracks."

This winter? thought Zoisite. There isn't going to be any winter here. After October, Crystal Yedo won't even be a memory.

"Hey, Zoë," said Makoto. "Are you getting sick again? You look a little green."

"I, I'm fine! Leave me alone! I don't need everybody fussing over me!" Zoisite stood up. "I have to talk to Mamoru."

"Can't it wait?" said Makoto. "You hassled him twice this morning. Give the guy a few minutes of peace."

"I said, I have to talk to him!" Zoisite threw aside the red banner, leaped off the dais and snatched up her sandals. Then she grabbed one of the pine pitch torches burning at the edge of the dancing circle and parted the crowd.

"That's right!" she snarled, striding across the courtyard in her solid black kimono, sweeping her path with the flaming torch, waving it before the frightened faces of celebrants. "I'm the big, bad demon, Zoisite! So you'd better make way!" Mamoru's guards blocked her entrance to his tent. "Let her through," said Mamoru. "She's with me." But before Zoisite could shove past him, he stopped her by drawing a red rose from his sleeve. She jumped back a step.

"Ah-ah," he said, pointing at Zoisite's feet. With a growl, Zoisite bent down and removed her sandals. Mamoru pointed at the torch and said, "No weapons, either." Zoisite reluctantly placed the torch into a nearby lampstand. Then Mamoru pulled her inside, closing the entrance flap.

"We're having a festival!" he said. "Don't you ever lighten up?"

"Hmph! Some festival! I love being treated like a pariah by your subjects."

"You reap what you sow."

Zoisite seized Mamoru's collar. "Don't talk to me about sowing and reaping!" she said, grabbing his hand and placing it over her stomach. "I didn't sow this, flower boy!"

"I like your crown."

"What?" Zoisite had forgotten about the wreath of hibiscus blossoms in her hair. She reached up to yank them out.

"Leave 'em," said Mamoru. "They suit you. And if you're asking me to talk to Kunzite, my answer is still 'no.' "

"This isn't a request! You must go down to Tokyo and tell Kunzite that I'm still here!"

"Why should I tell him that his little abortion scheme didn't work? So he can try another one?"

"Don't be a hypocrite and act as if anyone really cares about this baby! Your attendants wouldn't even grant me a lousy, red lantern!"

"That wasn't by any edict of mine," said Mamoru.

"They're still your attendants!"

"I'll talk to them."

"Don't bother," said Zoisite. "Minako took care of it."

"Then why don't you go back out there and enjoy yourself? Who cares what my attendants think? Hang a dozen damn lanterns over your head."

"I'm not leaving this tent until you promise to talk to Kunzite."

Mamoru crossed his arms. "Why the Hell should I?"

"Because he's worried sick!"

"Is he, now?"

"Yes!" Zoisite hoped Mamoru couldn't see her sweat. Her lies didn't always fool him. "I . . . I was supposed to rendez-vous with him in Tokyo. And, and he probably thinks I'm dead in a ditch somewhere! So you've got to tell him that I'm safe and sound here in Crystal Yedo!"

Zoisite waited as Mamoru thought it over. "If I talk to him," he said, "will you please stop deviling me?"

"Maybe," said Zoisite. "Your little obedience oath controls my actions, but it has no say over my attitude."

"So I've noticed." Mamoru rolled his eyes. "I suppose a 'maybe' is better than nothing. All right. I'll talk to Kunzite. And if my attendants are being mean to you, I'll tell them to treat my mistress with more respect."

"I am not your mistress!" said Zoisite. "I only slept with you once, and that was because I had to!"

Mamoru nodded toward the entrance. "By their definition, that makes you my mistress. C'mon." He took Zoisite's wrist and pulled her back out into the celebration.

"What are you doing? Lemme go!"

The crowd parted, dropping to their knees and gasping as Mamoru hauled Zoisite into the center of the dance ring. He raised his arms, stopping the music. "Everyone, rise!" he shouted. "I wish to present my mistress, the beautiful, refined and extremely docile Zoisite! She is also blessed with child and should be celebrated!"

The crowd gaped, a thousand mouths hanging open. Then after a few seconds of stunned silence, the drums resumed their pounding.

"Thanks, Mamo," said Zoisite. "Just what I need--a migraine!"

"Get in the chair with Usagi."

"There isn't room."

"Sure there is!" said Usagi, moving over. "It'll just be a little friendly!" After throwing a red kimono over Zoisite, the dancers crammed her in beside Usagi, who wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Then everyone started dancing again.

"All this movement is going to make me sick," said Zoisite, slumping against Usagi.

"You urped before you came, didn't you?" said Usagi.

"Yes."

"Then you should be fine." Usagi settled back comfortably, pulling Zoisite into her arms. "I'm glad you're here, and I don't want any of my subjects mistreating you."

Zoisite swallowed. If Mamoru kept his promise and talked to Kunzite, there might yet be a chance to escape. Even so, thought Zoisite miserably, keeping Beryl's new schedule a secret would be a lot easier if Usagi and the senshi weren't so damned kind. And what about Ami? The thought of anything happening to her sunk Zoisite into a deeper depression than she could admit. But if she had to choose between sparing Ami's life and preserving Kunzite's . . .

"You okay?" said Usagi, touching Zoisite's face.

"Huh?" She blinked. "I'm fine." No, I'm not fine. But I can't think about it now.

"How do you feel?"

Trapped, thought Zoisite.

The more Tokyo grew, spreading northward and westward, swallowing farm country and villages, the more negative energy it produced. The dark energy rose not from the bustling human activity, but rather from pockets of neglect the city dwellers left behind. It sprouted in the damp, cold spaces between flatblock developments and behind the loading docks of warehouses. Negative energy thrived in any dark corner where litter was never swept out or where oily water was allowed to pool without draining.

In such places, Mamoru/Tuxedo Kamen knew he would find youma. These creatures of the Dark Kingdom fed upon the energy that grew out of the unwanted. But after two hour's searching through the ugliest parts of Tokyo, Mamoru had come up empty.

If Beryl was planning to attack Crystal Yedo that winter, she would need an enormous amount of energy just to break through Usagi's ward, let alone subdue the upper realm. How could she get it, wondered Mamoru, except by sending armies of youma out into Tokyo to collect?

Mamoru crept through the shadows of an old fish market district, where poorly engineered water reclamation had caused some of the cannery buildings to actually sink a few inches into Tokyo Bay. The black cape of his Earth transformation costume blended into the darkness of night, rendering him almost invisible. A splitting headache made his eyes swim.

Life with Zoë was getting unbearable. The day could've been perfect if not for Zoisite. Even including her in the festival dance hadn't lightened her up. Things wouldn't be so bad if she would just leave him alone, but now that she could move around without pain she was a constant thorn in his side.

Mamoru winced at the pun and adjusted his mask.

A month ago, he had thought that his problems were solved, but he should've known better than to leave her crying in her bed. Now all Mamoru could do was kick himself for his short-sighted selfishness. If he had just stayed with her that night and held her, if he had just shown more tenderness, he could've turned things around. But instead, their lovemaking (hatemaking?) had made everything worse. Black clothes, black moods--"contrary" didn't even begin to describe Zoisite's attitude this past month.

And why, wondered Mamoru, had he been so cold on that pivotal night? Up until the end, things had gone pretty well. He had coaxed Zoisite into opening up. They had climaxed in each other's arms, and afterwards, Zoisite had actually tried to get close to him, tried to reach out. But then something snapped, as if the worst of Mamoru's worst side had suddenly taken over, and all he could express for Zoisite was scorn.

Now she wanted him to talk to Kunzite. But could he trust her? Sure, he had just made her a promise, but he'd done it to shut her up. Should he honor his promise and play into the hands of Kunzite's treachery? What else could it be but a trick?

Mamoru paused. A youma was feeding nearby. He could feel it. He tracked it into a narrow alley that he and Zoisite knew only too well, even though it had been three years since they had last fought there.

Gods! Why does it have to be this alley?

Stemming a tide of unwanted memories, he focused on the object of his search, which he found crouched against a crumbling, brick wall. She was a small, humanoid youma, about four feet tall, with four arms and crab claw hands. Her naked skin was striped with orange and purple, and her head bore a small pair of antlers. She was nibbling energy off a grease slick on the concrete. Not a very strong youma, decided Mamoru as he crept closer.

The creature's nose twitched. She looked up and screamed as Mamoru pounced. Stunning her with his own energy field, he held a rose over her terrified face.

"T-T-Tuxedo Kamen!"

"I don't want to hurt you. Ridding Tokyo of one more pathetic alley feeder might make this city a better place, but I need information." With the tip of his rose, Mamoru drew a mesmerizing circle around the creature's head. These weaker youma were easily mind controlled. "You will tell me the truth."

"Y-yes, Tuxedo Kamen! Banzai!"

"How many of you are out feeding tonight?"

"I dunno . . . a hunerd . . . mebbe more. Less. I dunno!"

"Where are the other youma?"

"Dey go other places! I dunno!"

"Where are they concentrating?"

"I dunno! I dunno! Don' hurt me, Tuxedo Kamen!"

"I want to know how Beryl is getting energy."

"Beryl want energy! Lots! I dunno! Don' hurt me!"

Mamoru sighed and dropped the rose. These stupid youma didn't know anything.

Just then, he felt another presence suddenly appear.

"Cruising for ass?" said the tall, fully-uniformed silhouette of Kunzite from the mouth of the alley. "I wouldn't think a happily married man would be so desperate."

Oh, fucking perfect! thought Mamoru.

Stepping forward, Kunzite waved his arm and opened a portal behind the youma. "Get thee gone," he said, blasting the creature back into its own realm. Then he turned to Mamoru, who noticed for the first time how much Kunzite resembled the fae denizens of Crystal Yedo, except that he was much taller and had more human proportions. Kunzite had the same large, slanted eyes and flaxen, almost iridescent hair. And his nose and chin were as pointed as Zoisite's. But like Zoisite, it wasn't quite enough to rule out the possibility that he was human. He looked better than he had the last time Mamoru had seen him. At least his austere, gray uniform didn't have any holes at the elbow. But there was a weariness. His erect posture and officer-like bearing betrayed effort.

"Just the man I want to see," said Kunzite. "I thought I'd find you in a place like this, a congenial habitat for vermin."

Don't show fear!

Kunzite rested his hand on Mamoru's head. "This particular alley is such a popular feeding ground, it makes me wonder what sort of nastiness might've occurred here. A murder? A rape?"

Mamoru quickly conjured a rose.

"Oh, keep it in your pants, little emperor! I only want to thank you for taking such good care of my Zoisite, and to ask you how he, er, she is doing."

Careful, thought Mamoru. Whatever Kunzite's up to, you know who he serves. Promises be damned, the kingdom could be at stake, and you must not let him know where to find Zoisite! Who knows what those two were planning!

Mamoru jerked away. "Liar! You know damn well how Zoisite's doing! She's in your bed, waiting for you!"

"I beg your pardon?" said Kunzite, raising his eyebrows.

"You tricked me! I should've known why you were so eager to visit Zoisite, but I'm afraid we didn't find that little, glass bottle until it was empty!" Mamoru hoped his voice sounded righteously angry.

"Then, then she's gone from Crystal Yedo?" said Kunzite. "She's in Tokyo?"

"How the Hell should I know where she went?"

Kunzite slumped against the wall, looking curiously relieved. "You're certain, then?"

"Certain of what?" said Mamoru. "She didn't leave us any clues except an empty bottle of poison--"

"And blood? Did you find much blood?"

"You'll have to ask our physician how much Zoisite bled; she's the one who cleaned up the mess!"

Kunzite exhaled a long, slow breath, eyes closed. "And Zoisite hasn't been seen in the palace since?"

"She'd better not be!"

"Very well," said Kunzite, walking away. "You've told me what I need to know. I thank you, little emperor." With his back to Mamoru, Kunzite vanished in a flash of blue-violet.

"Hmm," said Mamoru, pinching his chin between thumb and forefinger. "He may be a little stressed out, but he doesn't look 'worried sick' to me." In fact, Kunzite had looked pleased at the news of Zoisite's unknown whereabouts, although a touch sad.

"It's just a little lie," he whispered. "A necessary one, I'm sure. And Zoisite's often deceived me."

Mamoru looked down at the slab of concrete where the youma had been feeding, and gulped. This is the place. Three years ago, on this very spot, he had done something to Zoisite that forever made him question whether he was fit for his destiny as a hero.

It was shortly after he had taken one of the nijizuishou crystals away from Zoisite, which he had to do to prevent all seven from being gathered and handed over to Beryl. Otherwise, Beryl would've used the combined crystals' immense power to usher in her reign of terror. Zoisite had chased Mamoru all over Tokyo to recapture the lost rock, attacking everything in the way.

Finally, Zoisite cornered him in this very alley, knocked him to the ground with a "cherry blossom" attack and conjured a katana made of ice.

But Mamoru threw a rose that nicked Zoisite's hands, and the katana fell to the concrete. Zoisite's spirit cry became a howl of pain as he staggered back, hands bleeding. Momentarily neutralizing the dark powers, the rose allowed Mamoru to scramble to his feet and quickly conjure another. He pounced, seized the effeminate, little demon's wrists, and held the bloom to Zoisite's nose and mouth, forcing him to breathe the rose's fragrance, which weakened the victim. Then he circled Zoisite's wrists with the tip of the flower, binding them. The demon, who could only attack through his hands, was now helpless.

That was when Mamoru felt a dark pleasure rising at the sight of his enemy squirming beneath him. Zoisite had threatened his life and the lives of his friends, and it was time to teach Kunzite's androgynous "little rat" a lesson. After creating an energy field to prevent Kunzite from tracking them, he ripped open Zoisite's uniform.

Mamoru would always remember Zoisite's wide-eyed shock at the realization of what Tokyo's hero was about to do. And he would always hear the words that passed between them.

"What's the matter? Is a defender of peace and justice not supposed to do this?"

"If Sailor Moon knew--"

"You gonna tell her? You're a demon and a traitor! Who would believe you?"

Then Mamoru slashed Zoisite's left cheek with the thorny rose.

"Not my face!" he cried. "Please, not my face!"

Mamoru now stood before the place where it had happened and shuddered. This slab of concrete was now a "popular feeding ground," according to Kunzite. How much negative energy had Beryl gathered here?

Mamoru shook his head. Slashing Zoisite's face had been the cruelest part, knowing how she clung to her beauty. And the scar had never healed. "But I was only eighteen!" pleaded Mamoru to the silent alley. "I was a kid!" And hadn't he regretted the act from that night on? Didn't he feel sick every time he thought about it? And hadn't Zoisite done things that were just as bad?

Right now, Mamoru just wanted to go to bed and sleep forever. But Zoisite would probably be waiting up for him, anxious to hear how his talk with Kunzite had gone. What would he say? Was another lie in order? He had to get her off his back. "Oh!" he moaned, rubbing his eyes. If only he could conjure a rose that healed everything! "Zoisite!" he cried as he teleported back to Crystal Yedo.

"Mamoru!" said Zoisite, bolting up in bed. "He's returning! I can feel his teleport!" Tossing aside the comforter, Zoisite sprang off the futon and threw on a pair of black pantaloons under her black sleeping gown. She was out of the room, racing up the corridor before Ami and Makoto could stop her.

"Zoisite!" called Ami. "Come back! It's after midnight, and I've told you not to run in your condition!"

"Yeah, Zoë! You can talk to Mamo in the morning! Give the guy a rest!" Makoto sighed. "Are we having another full moon?"

Zoisite charged into the gardens. Her invisible senses led the way. She ran across sand and through patches of wildflowers. She skirted around topiary and fruit trees. She even splashed through a shallow lily pool. There had been a light rain that evening, and the earth was damp and spongy under her bare feet.

Gasping, she stopped in a small rose garden. She could feel the strong signature of Mamoru's teleport. The fragrant shrubs and vines climbed high over her head, enclosing her in a room of blossoming, thorny foliage and perfume.

"Mamoru, where are you?"

"I'm here."

Mamoru's dark form stepped out of the shadows.

"Oh, there you are," said Zoisite. "I knew I felt you. Did you talk to Kunzite? What did he say? What did you say? How upset was he?"

Mamoru hadn't completed his Crystal Yedo transformation, and Zoisite had to patiently watch as his mask vanished and his tuxedo and cape with cummerbund became a kimono and tunic with front ties. There was something disturbing about the way he was looking at her. It was like the look Mamoru had whenever he was trying to remember his life as a prince back in the Silver Millennium, only more focused and pained.

"Are you okay?" said Zoisite. Then she chided herself. Why did she care if he was okay? "What happened in Tokyo tonight?"

Mamoru stepped forward, reached out and brushed his fingertips over Zoisite's scar. "It never healed. Why did you carry it into the Third Awakening?"

"What are you talking about?" said Zoisite, pulling away. "What's the matter with you? You're looking at me strangely, and I don't like it. Did you see Kunzite, or not?"

"Zoisite, there's something I need to address. Something we should've talked about before now, but . . . but it's hard sometimes to face things we've done. Don't move away from me, Zoisite. I'm serious."

Mamoru reached out again for Zoisite's face, but she backed into the rose bushes. "Ouch!" she said, when the thorns stuck her. "Don't come any closer! You're frightening me!"

"Please, Zoisite. I know that every time I try to help, things get worse, but we've got to talk about what I did back in--"

"Get away!" She turned to leave, but Mamoru waved his hand, commanding the rose vines to cover the exit. Zoisite started to panic. "I don't know what you want, but you'd better let me go!"

"We've got to stop fighting," he said, stepping closer.

"Let me go!"

"Not until we talk about this!"

"What part of 'let me go,' don't you understand?" Shaking, Zoisite fell into fighting stance.

Mamoru came too close, and she lashed out at him with her fingernails. As he dodged, a red rose sprung from the energy in his hand. She saw its flash of color just as he brought it to her face, while his other arm secured her head. With one breath of its fragrance, her muscles turned to jelly.

"Don't," she said.

"We are going to talk."

"Don't, don't, don't, don't!" Zoisite started to whimper.

Then, as if Mamoru was suddenly shocked at what he was doing, he let her slip to the ground and backed off, dissolving the rose into the air.

"I'm sorry," he stammered.

Zoisite blinked for a moment, regaining her strength, then jumped to her feet.

"I'll make you sorry!" she said, ripping loose a long, thorny vine. It pricked her hands, but she didn't care, when it made such a convenient weapon. Lunging at Mamoru, she had the vine twisted around his throat before he could counter the move.

"Stop!" croaked Mamoru.

Zoisite's hands obeyed and dropped the vine. The oath again. Mamoru hadn't used it lately, and he always complained of terrible headaches whenever he did. Sometimes Zoisite got them too. Now she watched him clutch his temples. A shadow seemed to cross his face, even in the darkness of the rose garden. Zoisite knew that one of Mamoru's "moods" would follow.

"Don't you get ugly on me now," she said. "You always regret it."

Mamoru lifted his head. There was a sharp change in his expression. Zoisite stooped a little.

"Mamo-kun--"

"Zoisite, I took the pain away from your thorns last month because I felt sorry for you. But you have since used your freedom here to constantly chase and attack me! It's time to put a stop to it once and for all!" He raised his left hand.

Zoisite gulped. "Mamo, don't do it! Gods, you know it only makes things worse for both of us!"

"By the power of the obedience oath, which you willfully accepted--"

"Mamoru, stop! I'll back off, okay?"

"--I command that you, Zoisite, desist from attacking me! In fact, I command that you keep a distance of at least ten paces!"

"Mamoru!" A terror suddenly gripped her so hard she thought she would suffocate. Collapsing to the ground, she could hear nothing but the pounding of her heart. Her body convulsed as if she had just been plunged into ice. And over her brow, she could feel an invisible branding iron searing her flesh.

Mamoru was also on his knees, clutching his chest, face wrenched in horror. Zoisite could see the "ghost sign," the ideogram of Jigoku, blazing hot and orange between his eyes. She heard his choked cry as he fell back in fits of seizure.

Then, like the first time, Zoisite felt her terror focus into hatred against Mamoru, but hatred more potent than the oath's first invocation had conceived. Her thorns, although they had lost their sting, were darkening, turning bitter, poisoned. She could feel it.

Mamoru was glaring at her with eyes narrowed into black slits. She knew, beyond any doubt, that the oath had infected him with the same virulence. At once, they both leaped up to attack the other. But the oath now had to keep them at least ten paces apart in a rose garden that was less than ten paces wide. Zoisite screamed as the repulsion threw her back into the vines. She was suddenly buried in foliage, with thorns cutting her arms, legs and back. She could hear Mamoru screaming as well. Apparently, he was stuck too.

"Stupid idiot!" shrieked Zoisite. "Stop using the oath!"

"Ow! This hurts!"

"You're telling me! What were you thinking?"

"Oh, shut up!"

"I can't move!" cried Zoisite. "These hedges must be four feet thick!"

"Five," said Mamoru.

"Just get someone to cut me out before sunrise, Cape Boy, or you'll really be in trouble!"

"No, I believe you will be in trouble. And it's your fault. I wouldn't have used the oath if you hadn't attacked me!"

"You wouldn't let me go!"

"I wanted to talk, Zoisite!"

"What the Hell about?"

There was a pause before Mamoru answered, "Nothing."

"Nothing? Seemed awfully important a few minutes ago." Zoisite tested the branches, but they held fast. She couldn't even move her hands, so asking Mamoru to temporarily restore her powers wouldn't help. Not that he'd do it. Minutes passed, while she heard nothing from the opposite hedge but an occasional groan or a remark against her lineage.

Zoisite sighed. The hatred had deepened into a bitterness that some tiny part of her was vainly struggling against. "I don't know why my scar carried over into the Third Awakening," she said to break the silence.

"And I don't care," came the reply from the opposite hedge. "Forget I asked."

Zoisite fumed. "You're a slimy, self-important, little toad! After I leave Crystal Yedo, I'll make certain my child never sees you!"

"Excuse me?" said Mamoru. "You can go back to Hell as soon as you pop, but the kid stays here."

This was news to Zoisite. Of course, she had never actually thought about it before. "What? Do I have no choice in this matter either?"

"It's not open for discussion. My child will be raised here, in my palace."

"So he can be spit on by your self-righteous, oh-so-legitimate subjects, as a bastard? Never! I'm keeping him!"

"You're not fit to keep a dog, Zoisite. And anyway, since when did you give a damn?"

Before Zoisite could think of an answer, she heard Usagi calling.

"Mamo! I felt your summons! Are you okay?" Usagi's slow foosteps drew closer. "Oh! What are you doing in a rosebush?"

"Just a little accident," said Mamoru through clenched teeth. "Wake up the gardener . . . please."

"Uh, sure. Hang in there."

"I can't do anything else."

Usagi waddled away, then paused. "Zoisite? Is that you in there? Were you two fighting again? Whatever this was about, I want you both to talk it out while you're waiting."

Zoisite wondered, could Usagi perceive the darkness the oath had just strengthened? How could she not feel it? How could she not sense the change, the presence of Jigoku in her own husband? Or was she just keeping silent?

After Usagi left, Zoisite said, "Mamoru, you did go to Tokyo tonight, didn't you?"

"Yes!" snapped Mamoru. "I talked to your precious Kunzite, so lay off!"

"What did he say?"

"Not much."

"What do you mean, 'not much?' He must've been furious!"

"Didn't seem like it to me," said Mamoru. "Just his usual, smug, pompous self."

Zoisite gasped. This couldn't be true! Kunzite had been frantic to get her out of Crystal Yedo well before Beryl's attack. "You lie!" she cried. "What did Kunzite really say?"

Mamoru chuckled. "He said, 'You've told me what I need to know. I thank you.' Kunzite was very polite and not upset at all."

"That can't be!"

"Why not?" said Mamoru. "Why should Kunzite be upset that you're safe and sound in my palace?"

Zoisite bit her lip. She couldn't answer, of course. She couldn't betray Kunzite again, endangering his campaign and his life.

"Never mind why!" she said as tears welled up. "I know Kunzite will come for me! Even with Usagi's ward, he will!"

"Sure," said Mamoru, sarcastically. "Whatever you say."