A light wind. The smell of damp earth and concrete. The sky over Tokyo clear enough for stars. Zoisite perched on the roof of a three storey building, legs crossed, gray uniform spotless and neatly tailored at the cuffs and clasps. A tall, broad-shouldered man with flowing, auburn hair and a similar uniform was half running, half staggering through a park below, a young woman clutched in his arms. Zoisite's youma was not far behind.

Finally, Nephrite collapsed. The wound in his arm must've been too much. Zoisite watched the girl tear a strip of cloth from her shirt. Now she was binding the wound.

"What is yo bidding, my messsta?" said the humanoid youma, flying up to Zoisite's side. She was wrapped in lush, green vines and tendrils, as if ivy grew out of her legs and arms.

"Lord Nephrite is a traitor to the Dark Kingdom, and the girl has turned his loyalty away from our Sovereign Queen. Kill them both."

Zoisite rested his hands on his knee, admiring his immaculate, white gloves while his youma speared Nephrite through the shoulder with a bundle of giant thorns. Nephrite, Beryl's second general, stood in the way of Zoisite's ascension in rank . . . but not for much longer.

Now the girl was trying to pull the thorns out, grasping them in her little hands and tugging with all her strength while Nephrite ordered her to run and save herself. But she kept pulling, oblivious to the danger.

Uncommon courage for a human woman-child, mused Zoisite. Touching, really.

The youma returned to the roof. "I try to hit the girl fust, but Nefffrite step in the way. He take my attack. Shell I finish the girl, my messsta?"

"Don't bother," said Zoisite. "Lord Nephrite is almost dead. Such a shame to lose an officer of his experience and skill, but at least our queen shall have a new soul for her eternal garden." Zoisite snapped his fingers and pointed at Nephrite. "Collect."

"You should be happy to die in your lover's arms!" called Zoisite as the youma spiraled down toward the couple on the grass to seize Nephrite's soul.

But then something went wrong, something Zoisite had never seen before. While Nephrite's body started to vanish, his soul became a breath of pink and red bubbles that slipped right through the youma's claws. Zoisite helplessly watched them float upward, disappearing over the city.

Then he felt claws around his own throat, and he was suddenly back in Jigoku, facing Queen Beryl.

"What do you mean, you 'lost' Lord Nephrite?" shrieked Beryl. "Didn't you send a youma to gather him?"

"Y-yes, Honored One. But, but he . . . my youma was too slow to catch him. You know we have to move fast when taking a soul . . . and Nephrite sank into the ground. That's what happened."

"He sank into the ground? You have failed me, Zoisite." Queen Beryl motioned for two of her eleven guards. "Take him below." "Relax, Lord Kunzite. It'll only be for a short while. I wouldn't dream of killing your 'little rat,' but he needs a slap on the wrist. It will be good for him. You're even invited to watch."

Zoisite took long, controlled breaths as the guards led him down to the place below Beryl's audience chamber. Then . . .

Zoisite awoke with a start. Her heart was pounding, her mouth dry. Such flashback nightmares had haunted her far too frequently these past three weeks, ever since that night in the rose garden with Mamoru. The darkness of the oath wasn't allowing her to forget any of the things she had done, not even for a night's rest.

But that wasn't all. She knew the repeated appearance of the ghost sign over her brow was changing her in other ways, making her more irritable, more volatile, less under control. It was more than she could blame on pregnancy. She was even starting to fight with Makoto again.

Speaking of which, Zoisite looked around and saw that Makoto was not in the room. They had argued about some little thing earlier that evening, and Makoto had stormed out. From the moonlight shining through the clerestories, Zoisite guessed it was no later than three in the morning, but the terror of the dream would not let her go back to sleep.

"Ami!" she said, shaking her slumbering partner. "Wake up! Ami! Ami!"

The second of the senshi finally opened her eyes. "What is it, Zoisite?"

"I had a nightmare."

"You're an adult," said Ami, parting her bangs. "Must you wake me up every time you have a bad dream?"

"This was a very frightening one. And besides, it's your job to take care of me at night. You take naps every afternoon, so you get plenty of sleep. I hardly get any sleep anymore. And if I can't sleep, I'm going to get sick. Then you'll really have a mess." Zoisite started to rip the hem of her gown.

"All right! You win! I'll cuddle you!" Ami pulled Zoisite into her slender arms, and Zoisite curled up, tucking her head under Ami's chin. Now that she was in a safe, warm place she liked, Zoisite could relax. After a few minutes of letting Ami stroke her head, the nightmare slipped away.

"What was the dream about?" said Ami in the fluid, slightly accented voice that Zoisite loved.

"It doesn't matter."

"If you would tell me about them, they might go away."

"Just keep holding me."

They stretched out on their sides, Zoisite's arms around Ami, who was about a head shorter than Zoisite. The silk of Ami's gown was so light, Zoisite's hands could barely feel it at all. It just made her skin softer to touch, like brushing aside a whisper of spider floss as Zoisite ran her hands up Ami's back. Smooth and pliant as a white lily. Zoisite moved closer.

Feelings started to awaken, reminding Zoisite that she wasn't completely female. Zoisite rolled Ami onto her back and nuzzled the heavy, dark hair that curled around her ears. Her fingertips explored the curves of Ami's narrow hips and waist, while a delicious warmth grew inside. Zoisite hadn't been so bold with her old lover since the Silver Millennium, and Ami wasn't resisting . . . much.

But when Zoisite's mouth lingered too long at her delicate lips, the senshi pulled away.

"No," said Ami, quickly rising from the futon and closing the front of her gown. "It's not that I have no feelings, but this isn't something we should pursue."

"G-gomen. I'm sorry." Zoisite tried to work a tangle out of her hair, but her hands shook. It looked like Ami's did too, while she stood in a band of moonlight, regarding Zoisite with deep, charcoal eyes.

"We've never talked," said Zoisite. "And we never had a chance to say 'good bye' . . . back then. I know I should've told you about myself from the start, but it's just body parts, and I was afraid--"

"Your extra features were not the problem, Zoisite. Your betrayal to the kingdom was."

"At the time, I thought I was following the correct path."

"Don't." Ami turned her back. "Don't give me stories. You were ambitious, and you hated Mamoru because he had everything. Beryl promised you power over him."

Zoisite reached out. "Please, Ami. I have nothing now except you."

"I must not sleep beside you anymore. I'll ask Usagi to find another healer."

"What? No!" Zoisite moved to block the doorway. "You can't leave me!"

"This is not a healthy arrangement for either of us. You've become too dependent."

"I'll promise not to get amorous again. That was stupid of me."

"Zoisite, step aside. I'm going back to my quarters, and I'll send Makoto to finish the watch."

"You can't leave! Ami, I loved you! You have to know that!"

"That was a thousand years ago. Now, step aside."

Zoisite seized Ami's wrist. "I never wanted to harm you!"

"And I don't want to harm you, so let go of my wrist and step aside, Zoisite."

"No! I'm not letting you!" Zoisite was startled at herself. She hadn't meant to be rough with Ami, but she could feel the ghost sign and knew she was losing control.

With a single motion as fluid as her voice, Ami twisted Zoisite's grip and turned her so that she now had Zoisite's arm, shoulder and elbow. She pushed, not enough to hurt the elbow, but enough to let Zoisite know she could hurt it if necessary.

"I loved you too, Zoisite. I don't wish you ill, but I've had enough of your beastly behavior these past few weeks. You will not start fighting me the way you fight everyone else, because I will not abide it."

Zoisite gasped, "Okay, okay. I'm sorry!"

Ami released her, saying, "You need someone who can handle you." Then she opened the sliding door and walked out. But before Zoisite could chase after her, Ami raised her hands, focused her energy and filled the doorway with a foam of ice bubbles, sealing Zoisite inside.

"They'll melt in half an hour," said Ami beyond the wall. "Makoto will be here by then, so you might as well go back to bed." Then Zoisite's "anchor" left.

Zoisite sank to the floor, head in her hands. "How could I be so stupid!" she sobbed. "Not Ami!" Then she clenched her fists and growled. "The oath! The darkness from the oath made me act like that! It's all Mamoru's fault!"

Mamoru needed to find Minako. She'd been spotted climbing up to the tea pavilion, so that's where he went. His head throbbed with a migraine under the steamy, August sun.

Reconnaissance missions to Tokyo had turned up zip, and Mamoru was starting to quarrel with his officers--something unheard of in Crystal Yedo. And if that wasn't enough trouble, Usagi had gone into false labor two days ago and was now on strict bed rest.

Through the pavilion door, he could hear Minako and Makoto laughing inside.

"Zoisite said what?" said Minako. "Oh, I wish I'd been there! I'll bet Mamo hit the ceiling!"

"Wanna know what Mamo did next?"

"A-hem," said Mamoru, rapping on the screen. He slid it open to find the two senshi sprawled on the mat with porcelain bottles of saké.

Minako hiccuped. "Speak o' the devil."

"Is this how the Captain of Her Majesty's Royal Guard salutes the Emperor of Crystal Nihon?"

"Yer most gen'rous pardons, oh High-n'-Mighty One," said Minako, giving the scout salute in a manner that looked vaguely obscene.

Mamoru scooped up Minako's bottle and flung it into the azaleas. "We've got a kingdom to defend, and you're drinking!"

"I'm off duty."

"Not anymore. We haven't discovered Beryl's means of getting energy for her attack. I'm putting you in charge of intelligence, and you'd better not fail me."

"Sorry, Yer Worshipness, but I just got a new gig takin' care of yer lil' pumpkin vine in the southwest wing."

"It's only for a short while," said Makoto, "until we can find somebody else."

Minako burped and said, "Yeah. Someone with a death wish. I hear the lil' cherry blossom has got some new, wicked attitude." Minako staggered to her feet. "Don't you ever, ever talk to me like that again! I don't care if you're the Almighty Lord of the Universe and I'm drunk as a skunk! You will keep your language at Disney level, understand? I don't know what's gotten into you lately, Mamo, but take a pill for it!"

She grabbed Makoto's hand. "C'mon, Mako-chan. Let's go back to the palace. At least Zoisite has an excuse or two for her behavior!"

Mamoru wandered back into the gardens until he found Luna sitting alone at the edge of a pool, watching the goldfish.

"Oh!" said Luna. "You startled me!"

"I need your counsel. Is it possible for someone like me to have the Jigoku ghost sign?"

"Anyone may bear the ghost sign."

"Even in Crystal Yedo?"

"Good and evil are not places," said Luna. "They are directions. Why do you ask?"

Mamoru slumped down on a stone beside the cat. "I've been having these mean streaks."

"You've always had those, Mamoru. Remember how you used to treat Usagi back in high school?"

"But these are really bad ones. Every time I see Zoisite or even hear her name, I lose control . . . like some monster."

"That may or may not have anything to do with a ghost sign," said Luna. "Your hatred could be enough."

Mamoru picked Luna up and pressed her head to his brow. "Just tell me if I have it!"

"Put me down!" yowled the cat.

"Do I have the ghost sign, or not? You must be able to feel it! I'm getting migraines every day!"

"I do feel something, but I cannot identify it. It might just be stress, so please put me down before I bite you!"

Mamoru dropped Luna, who scrambled to compose herself.

"You need to learn how to hold a cat," she said, smoothing her black paws over her face.

"Sorry."

"Apology accepted. As I said, anyone may bear the mark of Jigoku if they are facing that way, for light and dark are not absolutes, but rather shades on an ever continuing spectrum. You were sent here to serve the Light, but you do not embody it."

"That's for damn sure," said Mamoru.

"Don't swear." Luna bit at a speck of dirt in her claws. "Zoisite does not embody darkness; she is merely a slave to Beryl. And Beryl in turn serves an even darker entity, who is probably just a slave itself, and on and on. Any one of them could, possibly, turn around. But that holds for you as well, Mamoru. You could turn and face Jigoku, so take care."

"What should I do?"

"You need to banish this source of darkness, and I don't mean Zoisite. I mean the hatred between you and Zoisite. If you've got the ghost sign, you must lose it immediately. When did you first notice it?"

"After Zoisite took the obedience oath."

"That was a Jigoku spell," said Luna. "Yes, that would do it. Mamoru, you must release Zoisite from that oath at once!"

"But it's the only thing keeping her under control! She'll shred the palace, not to mention me. Can't we wait?"

"Mamoru, this is serious! You can't fight Beryl with the ghost sign on your forehead! She'll capture you, as she did in the Second Awakening. Only this time it'll be worse because it will be partly your fault!"

"But she's not attacking until late this winter," said Mamoru. "We've got plenty of time."

Luna studied him carefully. "Don't be so sure."

"What?" Mamoru bent forward, glancing about. "What do you know?"

"Nothing . . . except that something has been deeply troubling Zoisite. Look to her, Mamoru."

"You think Zoisite's hiding information?" He jumped to his feet, fists clenched. "I'll look to her, all right!"

"Now, Mamoru. Remember what I said about darkness in the palace? Be diplomatic."

"If she's lied to us about Beryl's attack," said Mamoru, stomping toward the southwest wing, "she's gonna pay!"

"Oh dear," said Luna, hanging her head. "Diplomacy has become a defunct art."

Kunzite leaned against the alley wall, watching three youma nibble dark energy off the pavement. For some reason, trips to Tokyo often led to this "popular feeding ground," as he called it. What had happened here? Why was this alley such a magnet for Beryl's subjects? Maybe someday he would find out, but for now he had more urgent matters.

"Somewhere in Usagi's palace, there must be a source of darkness," Queen Beryl had said. But Kunzite had found no clues at all. Denizens of Crystal Yedo were always hanging around Earth. Tokyo swarmed with them. Yet Kunzite's youma spies had heard not so much as a harsh word from these pious little subjects.

Kunzite usually shunned Tokyo's daylight hours, but he couldn't afford sleep with Usagi's time so close at hand. If he failed to find Yedo's source of darkness, the enfanta spell would not be able to breach Usagi's ward, and Beryl would miss her chance to seize the rabbit's child. So Kunzite had no choice but to brave the day. Besides, the sun never reached inside this alley.

What would Beryl do to him should he fail? The punishment would hurt, no doubt, but probably wouldn't be fatal; she'd still need him to lead her troops even if the attack was delayed.

Actually, part of him felt relief at the imminent prospect of failure when he thought about how the spell would devour anyone else in the palace who happened to be pregnant. Mamoru had told him that Zoisite had fled, but Kunzite couldn't feel her presence anywhere in Tokyo, and the treasure reserves had not yet been tapped. Through Mamoru's righteous outburst, Kunzite had felt something odd. Nothing he could put his finger on, but wrong all the same, as if a shade of the emperor's color was subtly off. It almost felt . . .

Kunzite shook his head at this absurd thought. It had almost felt like facing a compatriot.

Zoisite lay alone on her futon, watching bands of filtered sunlight stretch across the mats and wall panels. All day she had done nothing, said nothing, wanted nothing.

Suddenly, the door slid open and Minako of Venus entered.

"Have no fear, the babysitter's here!" Minako was dressed in wide, summer-weight pantaloons and a sleeveless tunic of undyed hempcloth. Her long, blonde hair was pulled back into a tight, practical braid. "I'm sorry things didn't work out with Ami, but maybe she just needs a break."

Zoisite retreated under her coverlet.

"Don't be afraid," said Minako. "I like you. However, there will be some new laws under my regime. No biting, spitting, or throwing food, even if Makoto cooked it. I'm not as indulgent as Ami and I won't sleep with you. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not into girls."

Minako looked around the empty room. "Wow, this place is bare! No furniture or pictures or nothing! Zoisite, what do you do here?"

"What?" said Zoisite, peeking out from under the blanket.

"I mean, between eating, shredding and sleeping, how do you occupy your time? Flower arranging?"

"We tried that. I shredded the flowers."

"What about calligraphy and painting?"

"I shredded the paper."

"Didn't you draw some cool pictures on the wall? Let me guess; you spoiled them, and the servants had to scrub them off." Minako sighed. "Couldn't they at least let you decorate the tokonoma? It shouldn't stand empty."

"It had lilacs."

"And?"

"I chewed them."

"I'll bet that was yummy. Well, destruction's probably in your nature, in which case we should give you something appropriate to destroy. A little occupational therapy. Even Luna needs to shred something now and then."

Minako paced the room, tugging on her braid. "I've got it! Zoisite, do you know how paper is made here?"

Zoisite shook her head.

"The artisans have to shred miles and miles of old cloth and used mats. C'mon! Get your sandals!"

"Huh?" said Zoisite.

"We're going to the paper shop! You're gonna become somebody's new best friend!"

The day was too sunny for Zoisite's skin, so they headed across the courtyard gardens with her coverlet over their heads. Every few moments, Minako peeked out to see where they were going.

"Zoisite," she said. "Mamo's putting me in charge of intelligence to learn more about Beryl's plan. You may be uncertain of your loyalties right now, but I want you to tell me everything you know."

Zoisite swallowed. She had never been a convincing liar. "I already have," she said.

"I can't believe Kunzaito-sama didn't give you an update during his visit. I know you love him and don't want to betray him, but let's think about this, Zoë. If Beryl wins, what's she going to do to you?"

"I don't care."

"Fair enough," said Minako. "You have been suicidal. What will she do to Kunzite, then?"

"If he is victorious, he will be well rewarded."

"You mean Beryl will allow him to live . . . until he pisses her off, which everyone in the D.K. seems to do sooner or later. Let's see. Will she send him 'below' and let the youma chew his entrails? Or will she freeze him in a crystal like Jadeite and start a figurine collection?"

"Stop it," said Zoisite.

"Gomen. I didn't mean to be crass. But Zoisite, nobody has a promising future with Beryl. Victory or defeat, she's eventually going to kill Kunzite. Am I wrong?"

Zoisite said nothing. This was a thought she had often struggled to suppress.

"We've been good to you here," said Minako. "Well, mostly, anyhow. Okay, aside from making you screw Mamo-slime, we've been pretty good to you, Zoë. What would Beryl do if you came home with a bun in the oven?"

"It wouldn't happen. Infants require a special admittance spell, authorized by Queen Beryl, to enter our realm. She has never granted it."

Minako sighed. "Fine, Zoisite. If you don't want to talk, just ponder it for a while." She put her arm around Zoisite's shoulders. "I can't force you, but I hope you'll confide in me soon. It could save a lot of lives. Mine, yours, maybe even Kunzite's. Look, we're at the artisan shops."

Zoisite lifted her end of the blanket enough to see a row of thatched roofs sheltering an assortment of timber-and-plaster pavilions. They walked past a forge, a glass works, and a potter's shop. She could hear the roar of furnaces and kilns, smell the resins. The clanking, tapping, crackling noises sounded like a parade of shrine orchestras.

Zoisite and Minako left their sandals and blanket at the steps of a pavilion full of bubbling vats and giant, wooden screw-presses. Colored sheets of fresh paper hung like flags from the lintels and cross-beams.

"Venus-sama!" said the master papersmith, bowing.

"I brought you a helper," said Minako, nudging Zoisite forward. The startled papersmith took a step back.

"Don't be afraid. I won't let Zoë bite. But she needs a job, and she's a born fabric shredder. You do have stuff to shred, don't you?"

The papersmith bowed and led them to a back room where a pile of old silk and hempcloth nearly reached the ceiling.

"Wow!" Minako wrapped her arms around Zoisite. "You can shred to your heart's delight! This stuff needs to be reduced to threads, so the more thoroughly you destroy it, the better."

Zoisite gaped. She had never seen anything more inviting. Her fingers started to itch. Her toes tingled. Why hadn't they brought her here before?

"See that mountain?" whispered Minako into her ear. "That's Mamo-slime's face. Go to it, girl!"

Zoisite tumbled forward and buried her nose in the great mound of cloth. She snatched a yellow sheet of crepe and rended it with one long, smooth rip. Then she found a heavy piece of red silk and pulled it apart, holding the end in her mouth. There was soft, flossy, raw silk and crisp, starched silk. Rough hempcloth that sounded particularly satisfying when torn, and scratchy jute that had to be chewed through. A banquet of ripping for Zoisite's hands, toes and teeth.

"She can do this for hours," said Minako to the incredulous papersmith.

Zoisite came up for air and suddenly noticed Usagi's black cat entering the room.

"Hi Luna!" said Minako. "Didn't expect to see you here!"

"Even the royal counselor needs recreation now and then," said the cat in a European accent similar to Ami's.

Zoisite stopped. "Did that cat talk?"

"Oh, Zoisaito! I beg your pardon!" said Luna, stepping forward and extending her paw. "You didn't know? Then let me introduce myself. I am Luna, and I talk."

"Uh, pleased to formally meet you," said Zoisite. "I know you've been watching over me."

"I do hope you don't mind sharing this tantalizing heap."

"Not at all. Help yourself."

Luna climbed in. "There are few things in life more enjoyable than a good round of shredding. Don't you agree?"

"Couldn't agree more," said Zoisite.

Soon, both cat and demon were rolling about in the pile, ripping, tearing and chewing. Zoisite forgot her cares in the wonderful, delicious destruction of woven fiber.

Until Mamoru darkened the doorway.

"There you are!" he said. "I knew I could follow your stench!"

"Mamo-sama!" said Minako. "Settle down!"

"Giving me orders?" he said to the stunned senshi. "I told you to get information, not take her out to play!"

"Mamo--"

"Get out! Everyone! You too, Luna. Zoisite and I have business."

Minako and the papersmith hurried away with Luna at their heels. "This is certainly diplomatic," snapped the cat on her way out.

Trembling, Zoisite tried to bury herself in the fabric and hide in the black folds of her kimono. A dark energy ball of tremendous force, invisible but palpable, kept them exactly ten paces apart. She wondered if Mamoru could feel it, and if he even cared. His eyes were as fiery as any she had ever seen in Jigoku.

"You've been keeping information from us," he said.

"No, I haven't."

"Don't lie. You know you're not good at it, and I can make you tell the truth. I should've done this long ago."

"Done what?" said Zoisite.

"Used the oath to its full potential." Mamoru's face suddenly twitched in pain, but it didn't look bad enough to stop him.

Zoisite gasped. "Mamo, are you out of your mind? Don't you realize the oath makes us worse every time you use it? I've already lost Ami!"

"But I need the truth about Beryl's attack," said Mamoru. "And you're going to tell me everything you know."

"You're insane! If you invoke the oath again, it'll kill us!"

"That's the price we pay for your treachery, Zoisite." Mamoru raised his left hand.

"Please! Can't we discuss this? You're not thinking!"

"I'm going to get the whole truth out of you once and for all! By the power of the obedience oath--"

"Mamo! Stop!" Zoisite panicked. Mamoru was acting possessed!

"--which you, Zoisite, willingly accepted--"

"October!" cried Zoisite.

Mamoru paused. "What?"

"She's coming in October! And I swear that's the truth!"

Zoisite collapsed. Oh, Gods! Now I blew it! I've just signed Kunzite's death warrant!

"This October?" said Mamoru.

"Yes! Don't use the oath again! I'm telling you everything!"

Mamoru blinked, as if waking from a dream. "I . . . I don't want to use the oath either. But . . . October? Gods, Zoisite! That's so soon!"

Zoisite started crying into the shreds of silk under her hands. "Kunzite is lost."

"I'm willing to withhold the oath if I can have assurance that you're telling the truth this time. How is Beryl getting energy?"

"I don't know," said Zoisite through her tears. "Kunzite wouldn't tell me. Didn't want me to have too much information while in enemy hands. But he said October." Her whole body shook.

"Is this all he told you?"

"I swear!"

Mamoru whistled. "October. No wonder Kunzite was so anxious to get you out of here."

"What?" said Zoisite. "What did you just say?"

Mamoru slapped his hand over his mouth and coughed. "Nothing."

"Kunzite was anxious? But you told me he wasn't upset at all!" Zoisite narrowed her eyes. "What exactly did you say to him?"

The emperor remained suspiciously silent.

"Mamoru? Did you tell him I was still here?"

He shifted from foot to foot. "Um . . . It didn't seem prudent at the time."

"What?" said Zoisite, jumping at Mamoru and colliding with the energy ball. "You lied to Kunzite? How dare you accuse me of deception! You don't deserve to live here in the upper realm; you're no better than anyone from the Dark Kingdom!" She was panting now, muscles braced. "At least Kunzite was never a rapist."

Mamoru winced. "Look, I' sorry!"

"Tell it to Kunzite. Return to Tokyo and tell him the truth, damn you! And while you're at it, tell him what happened in that alley."

"You want me to confess that to Kunzite?" said Mamoru, astonished.

"If you have a spine."

Straightening his shoulders, Mamoru said, "All right. If that's what you want, I'll tell him everything."

Zoisite stopped. She hadn't expected this. "You, you will?"

As he nodded, Mamoru himself wondered what the Hell he was thinking. He had never told anyone about that incident in the alley. Not Usagi, not his best Earth-friend Motoki, not even Luna. In fact, this was the first time he and Zoisite had openly mentioned it. Telling Kunzite was the craziest thing he could do; the arch-demon would rip him apart. But his soul, buried under the layers of darkness from the oath, cried out to make amends with Zoisite. And if this was the only way to do it, if a confession to Kunzite was what she needed, Mamoru would have to take the plunge.

"The oath has brought out the worst in me," he said, opening his hands. "You see how I act now? I've alienated half the court. Minako hates me, Luna's disgusted . . . You say you've lost Ami? If this goes any farther, I might lose Usagi, and I don't know what I'd do if that happened. Zoisite, if I go down to Tokyo, will that turn us around at least a little?"

"If you live," said Zoisite.

Mamoru looked at her. She was crouched down in a nest of rags like some wounded, wild animal--pale, trembling, suffering from his hatred. She was right. He had become just like the demons he fought. Beryl wouldn't have to capture him; he was already serving Jigoku.

"I'll do it now," he said, seeing the mixture of hatred, fear and startlement in Zoisite's eyes. "And if I don't return . . . tell Usagi I love her."

Then Mamoru clasped his hands together, took a deep breath, and teleported to Tokyo.

He woke up next to the trashcans behind Crown Video Arcade. Lately, every teleport and transformation into his Tuxedo Kamen identity weakened him. Now he was actually passing out. Was it the ghost sign? He stared up into the slack-jawed face of the curious rag picker--the one who had taken up residence in the shipping crate under the steps. Mamoru wondered when Tokyo was going to clear these bums off the streets.

"What're you looking at?" snapped Mamoru, adjusting his mask. The man closed his mouth and hurried up the alley back to his crate.

How long had he been out? It looked like twilight! Mamoru staggered to his feet, brushing pavement grit off his trousers and cape.

"Do I really want to talk to Kunzite?" he said. "I know. I made a promise. But--" He debated with himself for an hour while he crept through shadowy backstreets toward the old fish market district. Before he realized it, he had gravitated to the "popular feeding ground." He was just about to back-pedal, determined not to visit that alley again, when he spied the tall figure of Kunzite leaning against a wall.

"What's he doing out here before nightfall?" whispered Mamoru. Terror suddenly gripped him. He tried to retreat, but it was too late. Kunzite saw him.

"Tuxedo Kamen," said Kunzite. "Little emperor. I was just marveling at the stink in this alley and thinking about you. What brings you here?"

Mamoru gulped. This was it. He was either going to salvage Crystal Yedo, or he was going to die. A cold drop of sweat trickled down his back.

"Kunzaito-sama," he called out, stepping forward. "I have to confess something. There's been a terrible source of darkness within my palace."