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PART SIX: HOW TO SUCCEED IN DEMON-REPELLING WITHOUT REALLY TRYING

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::pantpantpantgasppantpantWHEW::

Well. ::gulpgulpgasp::

Thank you, doll. That was tremendously kind o' you.

::gasppantgasp::

No, I'm okay, thanks for asking, I just need a few minutes to catch m'breath back. No worries; I'm fine. Fine as all fucking get out. Why don't you just sit there for a few seconds, and if you'd be so kind as to cast your eyes -- yes, all three of 'em -- over at the entrance and see if anyone's coming?

No one?

Thank Metallia and all four Kings for _that_.

Jesus.

Okay, kid, here's the deal: you don't tell anyone that you had to help me out of what could be embarrassing circumstances, and I don't kill you. Is that good enough?

-- Oh, for crying out loud. The terms are non-negotiable, kid --

(Lookit this kid, she thinks she can pull something over on me. Fat chance. Let's see how far she gets in her alleged thinking process, eh?)

All right. What do _you_ want out of this? I think I'm bein' pretty damn generous, letting you live your miserable, maggoty, slavish n' servile life. What do you think I could give you that's worth more 'n your life and sacred (ah ha ha ha) liberty?

...

...

...

Jesus.

H.

_Christ on a sidecar_.

You -- _you_, you miserable, maggoty, slavish 'n servile little slut --

_You_ want _me_ to tell you a _story_?

Christ!

It's like that's all I'm good for around here!

"Tsurian, tell me a story, oh, please?"

"Tsurian, I'm worn out after a day of bein' Kunzite at the troops, why don't you tell me a tale of what was once the Bright Kingdom?"

"Tsurian, it's gettin' boring, why don't you tell us a story?"

Maybe I don't _want_ to tell you maggots a story, what about _that_?

Oh, no -- oh _no_, you do _not_ start pullin' that kawaii-eyed trick with _me_, young maggot. No, no, _no_! It won't work and it's disgusting besides.

...

What, you think you can _cry_ at me and think I'm gonna soften up? Fat chance on that one, slug; I was there at the sack of Uei Lin, I ain't gonna go all mush- brained and _kind_ just cuz some lame little maggot who just happened to save my life 'n reputation --

...

Aw, fuck.

Alright, alright, _alright_, quitcher bawlin', just pull up one of those soft mossy hassocky things, and I'll see what I've got in my bag o' tales, alright?

(Metallia's Tits, I've gone soft. I hate kids. Jesus.)

Okay. So. A story. What story do I have that would make you get out of my face quick enough to suit me?

None, that's what; curse my standards, all I _have_ are good-quality stories. Just your luck, maggot, you ran into the only decent yarnspinner in this entire damn Kingdom.

Awright, since m'mind's been dwelling on that rather unpleasant -- hear that, maggot? It's the mark of a good storyteller, 'scalled _dramatic understatement_ -- incident earlier, I might as well tell you about another sort who thinks I can be shoved up against a wall and ...

How old are you, maggot? You been bred yet?

No? You look older. Okay, then, a quick bit of modification...

Another sort who thought I could be shoved up against a wall and be made to...

... Made to tell him stories, let us say.

This is the story of the King Whose Throne Is Empty, the King Who Built, the King Who Escaped Metallia.

This is the story of Cassiterite, Prince of Africa, Warden of the Deserts, Lord of the Nile, Builder of the Pyramids; he should've been the Third King in the Kingdom -- above Jadeite and Zoisite, below Kunzite and Nephrite.

Should've been.

_Should_ _have_ _been_.

Whose fault is it, that he slipped from Metallia's grasp?

Whose fault is it, that the power he had stored in those _frigging_ stupid pyramids of his got away from the Kingdom?

Whose fault is it, that Cassiterite didn't yield willingly, like Zoisite or Nephrite?

-- Maggot, the first thing you've gotta learn about listening to one of my stories is that you don't interrupt the fucking flow of the story to ask your asinine li'l questions, okay?

Oh, and note that I had a buncha stacked questions, right in a row. That's called _rhetorical questions_, okay? Doesn't mean I wantcha to answer 'em, it just means I'm trying to build to a point, yeah?

Good maggot. Sit there quietly, and we'll get through this story with no problems a-tall.

Okay, anyway, it was the fault of exactly the person you'd expect: _Me_.

_I_ was the one who didn't remember about those pyramids; _I_ was the one who didn't pipe up and say, "Hey, Lord Kunzite, maybe we'd better pick up Cassiterite _outside_ his li'l desert project"; _I_ was the one who _didn't_ _remember_ _what_ _Cassiterite_ _himself_ _had_ _told_ _me_!

It was _my_ fault, maggot. It's my fault that the Third Throne under Beryl is Empty; it's my fault that Metallia doesn't have the power It needs to burst through.

-- No, I'm not worried about you telling people; why should I care what you maggots think of me? _I'm_ Kunzite's factotum, I belong to Kunzite himself, and I can tell you that there is going to be one _mightily_ pissed-off First King if he hasta find someone new to iron his shirts and lay out his capes just because some slug from the legions thinks she can get away with offin' me for the paltry reason that some young maggot said that Tsurian was a traitor to the Kingdom.

Feh. That was _logic_, maggot. It's something that your kind don't too often indulge in.

And besides, everyone important knows it already, just not the details. Thanks to that stupid bitch Kurogasa...

Anyway, when the Kingdom was newly made, and the queen decided that she wanted a clean sweep of all the Imperial Viceroys of Earth, and Metallia decided that It wanted Kunzite in charge of gatherin' in all of his former colleagues, there was a council called, of the Four Kings who had so far heeded the call.

There was Jadeite, the freshest, who'd been plucked from his stronghold in Coronado, not one week earlier; he still had the dazed look of someone who'd been bathed in Metallia's essence until nothing of Jadeite Saavedra was left, and only the Fourth King, Jadeite, remained.

You know Jadeite, the King Jadeite -- he's the One in Red, the Lord of the East of the Kingdom; he's the one with, you know, pale gold hair and blue eyes --

Oh, wait, that's right; you maggots don't know the Kings by sight, only by aura. My apologies, maggot; we'll just go right on through, then.

There was Zoisite, who'd come willingly to Metallia's arms, and who was greatly honored in the Kingdom for having brought Metallia a great gift as he was brought in: Chrysogonus, the first and last quantum crystal, given to assuage Metallia's hunger. It was because of Chrysogonus being fed into the insatiable ArchDemon's maw that we'd later have enough power to mount an attack on the bastion of Silver Millennium, on Pietas of the Moon itself.

Zoisite, who had once been Zoisite Enoara: who was now Zoisite, the Fifth King, the One in Green, the Lord of the South of the Kingdom, the King Who Queens It, the dainty and vicious consort of Lord Kunzite.

Purely to annoy Nephrite and to show off, he hovered in midair, one lithe leg tucked under the other; one hand supported his dainty, pointed chin, the other resting in his lap.

Yep, there was Nephrite himself, the dude what had once been Nephrite of Ayers, the Prince of Oceania and the magician of Ayers Rock. No longer; now he was Nephrite, the Second King, the One in Blue, The King Who Is Alone.

-- You know, one of the youma Naibs, one of the ones you maggots call the Seven Shadows -- as a matter of fact, it was Bokushii, the same rude sonuvabitch we saw earlier today -- who thought, shortly after Nephrite's ascension into the Second Throne, that it might be kinda funny to say, sorta casual-like, "Ne, Nephrite-sama... your daughter was delicious."

All in good fun, right?

Well, that _was_ pretty funny, to give Bokushii his due; it's just that I doubt the friggin' wannabe-pugilist expected to get his head hammered repeatedly into the floor while Nephrite-sama, his eyes finally reflecting something more than the vaguely contemptuous apathy he'd been affecting up till then, stood there and asked him politely if Bokushii wanted to say anything else.

No, Bokushii didn't.

Ha.

Anyway, there's really no point in Kunzite inviting Nephrite to a council of the Kings, because Nephrite frankly doesn't care about the Kingdom, but Kunzite invited him anyway because Kunzite's _like_ that, and if Kunzite takes the trouble to do something, by gods it gets done _right_.

Helluva man, Kunzite is, was, and always shall be, never mind that he's not, strictly speaking, a _man_ any longer.

Which brings us to the First King, the demonlord Kunzite, the One in White, the Lord of the West of the Kingdom, the King Who Commands The Kings, First Among The Shi Tennou.

He is _extremely_ badass.

And then there's me, over in the corner, twiddlin' my thumbs. I'd heard Jadeite lean over and ask, in what he chose to believe was a whisper, "What the hell is _she_ doing here?"

It was one of the proudest moments in all my life when Kunzite-sama replied coolly, "Tsurian is here in case I have need of her."

Yeah. I rock.

"And also," Kunzite continued, "because Tsurian is, among other things, my spymaster --"

-- Maggot, he could afford to tell them I'm his spymaster because that's just it: I'm his spy_master_. Get it? Not a _spy_. I'm just the one who collates all the dirt we get in, puts it together and makes a nice neat li'l packet o' information to present to Kunzite-sama. It doesn't matter if they know who I am, because I don't _obtain_ the information, I just put it all together.

... Well, that was pretty perceptive, maggot. You might be smarter than I'd thought, though, mind you, a brick's smarter than I'd thought you were. Yes, you're right; since I'm the spymaster, I know where all the spies are, and _who_ they are. Again, it don't matter; I've got so many geasa on me that Beryl herself couldn't break 'em, not without Metallia's aid, and I sorta doubt that Beryl's gonna want to go whining to the Dark Goddess just to break a damned spymaster.

Anyway.

So, Kunzite introduces me, I stand up and give 'em a salute and bow, and then sit down and resign myself to boredom until I have to give a report or something.

Wouldn't you just know it? Most of these meetings between the Kings are hideously boring, all who said what to Our Tsurian and whose legions are going to have to guard the spellbreakers up under D Point next cycle, and why Zoisite-sama felt it necessary to go around having his Elites write anti-Nephrite graffiti in Jadeite's territories -- you know, King-talk.

_This_ meeting was actually interesting.

This meeting was about the long-term goals of the Dark Kingdom.

Holy shit, you say. So, Tsurian-sama, _you_ got to sit in on a meeting of the Shitennou?

Holy crispy crap, you say, _you_ got to know what was actually going on in the Kingdom without having to wait months and months to find out what had _really_ happened, as opposed to what the Kings had _said_ happened?

Holy schnikeys, Tsurian-sama, you say, yer three green li'l eyes tearing up in sheer awe, you must be pretty damn high up, ne?

Sure, kid, I say, but the thing is... I was dozin' off for more than half of those meetings. Was one of the reasons that Kunzite chose me, instead of Ninjana or Karubiba or Kurogasa, to attend these meetings; he knew that I wouldn't even pay attention, much less spread rumors.

Besides, maggot, didn't I just _tell_ you that I was under geasa of silence? I mean, what's the friggin' use of knowing secrets if no one knows that you know, and you can't even hint a little to set 'em on the right track?

Anyway, slug, the thing is, I know things. I know things that your sluggy little mind can't even begin to imagine.

And the place where I learned these things...

Slug, lemme ask you a question, and you're allowed to answer me this time.

Do you really wanna hear all the long, tedious --

It means "boring", maggot.

-- all the long _boring_ bits and pieces of this one meeting, or do you want me to skip right to the good part?

I thought so.

Alright, then, about fifteen minutes into the meeting, Zoisite suddenly sits upright and he says, oh so casually, "So, when shall we formally declare war on the kingdoms of Silver Millennium?"

You've just gotta love Zoisite; he had just stabbed neatly to the core of all that the Dark Kingdom was, is, and has been destined to be for all time: the enemy of all that dwells under the aegis of the Imperial Goddess Amaterasu Herself.

This is how Zoisite thinks, and I personally find it charming, no matter what Nephrite-sama says about it. He thinks straight to the point, he does, and it's entirely reasonable for him to question what exactly we're doing.

So we've been raiding outposts, right, and we've been slippin' false information to the starships going through the asteroids so as to make sure that the Inner Planets don't know as much about the state of the Outers as they might wish, and we've been plantin' false information all over Silver Millennium to make the damned Argentines think that they're safe from demons...

But have we formally declared war on them?

Have we actually told anyone that there's an entity that actively seeks the destruction of the Silver Millennium and all that it stands for?

What, are you stupid?

Of course not!

The instant we advertise the _existence_ of the Dark Kingdom -- that's when we're all fucked.

Dunno what you've heard about the might of the Dark Goddess Metallia, maggot, but whatever you've heard can't match up to the reality. Metallia is _strong_, never doubt it.

Metallia could've torn up all of Silver Millennium by the roots, gut it lock stock and barrel, trample all of it into moondust, and never stop for a breather...

If it weren't for those _damned_ Senshi and those _fucking_ inconvenient crystals.

Each of the Senshi is at her full power and glory, then; Senshi Saturn could destroy an entire world without blinking those great indigo eyes of hers, and the other Outers aren't too far behind her. Senshi Nemesis, f'rinstance, the Soldier of the Storm, with that damned glare of hers that can drain life from a horde of youma... Feh.

The Crystals are even worse: Golden, Silver, Dark. The ginzuishou can hold off Beryl herself. The kinzuishou can burn a _fucking_ painful hole in the middle of even mighty Kunzite.

The jakokuzuishou... Fucking temperamental thing; even if we could manage to wrest it over to our side, feed it to the Dark Goddess, I still wouldn't feel comfortable about it. The Crystal of Destruction is just too... weird. Even for me.

So you see the problem, maggot. As soon as we let Silver Millennium know that we were here, we would've been up that certain crick without a paddle.

We were safe as long as we could keep them from knowing that we were there, right?

... Maggot, maggot, maggot. If King Zoisite wants to ask stupid rhetorical questions, he gets to. 'S one of the prerogatives of kingship, it is; you oughta hear some of the dillies that Jadeite comes up with sometimes. One day, remind me and I'll tell you about this one idea he got about the Senshi of Mars and Sailormoon's little "friendship"; it's pretty funny if you like that sort of thing, and I don't know a single youma who doesn't.

Anyway.

So Nephrite-sama, right, he turns to Zoisite, who's hovering up in midair, looking ever so innocent and gorgeous, and Nephrite-sama says, very slowly and crushingly, "We cannot declare war upon the Light until all of the Shadowkings are assembled."

Jadeite actually shuddered at that. Before he'd been called by Metallia, he'd been a pretty good-to-brilliant poet, and that sort of shit ain't poetry no matter how much Nephrite wishes it were.

"True enough," Kunzite says, mildly, before Zoisite can pounce and start slicin' things up. "We have yet to retrieve the Third King and the Great Lord Endymion."

Zoisite, who still retains much of the personality of the glittering green Prince of South America, mutters some damn derogatory thing about how "great" Endymion is and how exactly he might bugger himself.

_Zoisite_ is a poet, even if Nephrite-sama doesn't care to recognize it.

"Enough," Kunzite says, and on his dark face is not the merest hint of a smile. But then, there wouldn't be. As badass and all as Kunzite-sama is, he ain't got the least li'l bit of a sense of humor. It just goes to show that no one man is perfect.

"Nephrite-sama. Jadeite-sama. You shall go, with the Naibs, to Lemuria's capital and take the Great Lord Endymion-sama."

Nephrite, of course, immediately objects to this. "The Great Lord Endymion-sama has the kinzuishou for his protection, and --"

"Ahem," Zoisite interjects, ever so sweetly. I _love_ Zoisite-sama. Really. "Things changed since you so unwillingly joined the cause of the Dark Goddess, dear Nephrite-sama. The Great Lord Endymion-sama no longer possesses the kinzuishou at all; all that you face is the Imperial Legion and the Great Lord himself." He smiles again, so brightly, so sweetly, so innocently. "I do hope he tries to resist, I truly do; I want to see if --"

"Zoisaito-sama. Enough. There will be no treason spoken against the consort of the queen," Kunzite says dispassionately. Zoisite shuts up immediately. Nephrite smirks.

"Would it ease your mind if Zoisite-sama accompanied you and Jadeite-sama to the Crimson City, Nephrite- sama?" Kunzite inquires calmly.

Nephrite gets this funny little tic under his eye, but chokes out, "Surely."

Zoisite looks resigned. Jadeite looks much the same as he always looks: bland and cold and smug. Kinda like a dish of strawberry ice cream, really.

-- What are you talking about, slug? Oh. Well, uh, strawberry ice cream is .... something really bland and cold and smug. In fact it's known for being smug. Yeah. Shut up and listen to the story.

Anyway, the Kings are dithering over assignments and the like, and Zoisite-sama, sulking, pipes up and says, "But what will you be doing, Kunzaito-sama?"

"Tsurian and I will take care of the Third King," the First of the Shi (but then it was Go) Tennou replies. "The Lord of the Nile is older than is the Great Lord, and he is, in many ways, more difficult to lay a hand upon. I shall take him; you three shall take the Great Lord."

"It's an honor," Jadeite-sama says, almost the first thing he says at the entire damn meeting, and no one can figure if he's just being a smartass or if he genuinely thinks of this as an opportunity to hoist himself higher in the dark queen's favor.

Whichever. It's settled. As if even Nephrite is going to go contrary to what Kunzite has decided; Beryl might sit on the throne and commune with the Dark Goddess, but it's Kunzite who truly runs this place.

Me? Hell, I don't even think of questioning, despite the fact that I ain't got any clothes suitable for a trip to what is surely the hottest, most stinking hellacious place on all Earth: the site of the pyramids of Gizeh, the bastion of Cassiterite, Prince of Africa.

You've got to understand, maggot, that this was going to be a simple, unhurried, run-of-the-mill mission. I was going to direct the distraction for the few Ueb priests that guard Cassiterite-sama, and Kunzite himself was gonna knock Cassiterite over the noggin, and throw his ass into the portal which Kunzite would have been holding open. You know. Exactly what we did with Nephrite-sama, only this time we were kind of hoping to avoid the Senshi of Jupiter and Venus coming in to disrupt the festivities.

Kunzite-sama had checked over Nephrite-sama's plans to grab Prince Endymion, and didn't really seem to be too worried over the whole thing, which was normal enough when you consider that Nephrite-sama is not only a bad- ass magician nearly on a par with Kunzite himself, but is, when he stops and actually thinks about what he's doing, a pretty _damned_ good tactician. He isn't a strategist, granted, but then, he doesn't need to be. He's got his orders from Kunzite (who most definitely damn IS a strategist), and he's got his main objective, and he's got the firepower of Zoisite-sama, Jadeite-sama, and all seven of the great Janissary Naibs, who are now the Seven Shadows belonging to Metallia Herself.

I mean, shit, you wouldn't think that they could really get into that much trouble, would you?

But then again, this crew does have Zoisite and Nephrite together, and Jadeite overseeing the notoriously volatile Naibs, and ....

It's a damn good thing that this once, Fate smiled upon us and favored the Dark Goddess's forces, because the three Kings and the Seven Shadows managed to pick up Endymion without any losses on our part, and they also managed a right nifty piece of work to keep their hand in -- on the way out of the Crimson Palace, Zoisite picked off the Empress Dowager of Earth. Good one. Poisonous bitch, was Ria-koutaigo-sama, and any fewer members of the Imperial Family there are come the day of the reckoning, the better.

Kunzite-sama should've worried about us, really. I mean, of course when you're the First of the Go Tennou and you've got only your trusty and long-serving lackey by your side who by now knows your every whim by instinct and is in herself not entirely incapable of doing brilliant things --

Huh?

-- Maggot, you're really making my fists twitch. I'm talking about _me_, of course!

Anyway. So Kunzite-sama opens a portal straight from his quarters into the deserts outside of Gizeh. It's okay for him to do this because I know for a fact that neither Cassiterite nor any of his Ueb priestlings know how to trace a portal-link. It's a hard spell, I'll grant you, but all the same it's really _asking_ for it, not having at least one guard with that knowledge when all the princes of Earth have been warned by the Mikado that there's someone goin' around picking up Imperial Viceroys.

The desert night is calm, still. The skies are absolutely clear. The stars shine palely down.

My skin _crawls_.

Kunzite makes a tiny, deft cut to the vast shields over the pyramids; he'd already punched through the shields over Africa itself when he pulled his portal. The thing about serving the ArchDemon Metallia is that It has _such_ a way with breaking bonds and fetters. Demons often do. It's an occupational necessity.

So, anyway, we're through the shields, and creeping so quietly towards the pyramids, shining in the light of the cold stars and silvery moon, and my teeth are _chattering_.

Not from the cold, mind you. I'd complained loudly about the fact that I had little or no harem-girl outfits although I supposed I _could_ borrow some of that flimsy gunk that Kurogasa thinks is becoming...

Kunzite-sama had paused in what he was doing, gave me a quick onceover, and said tonelessly that he expected to pull the raid at night, and moreover he expected me to wear clothing that befitted the dignity of the chainman of Lord Kunzite.

My boss is a great guy. Really.

So I'm in my black ninjagi, with the kurozukin over my face -- gods, I wish that I could get _rid_ of the damn thing now, but not since that night have I been able to take it off without making people scream -- and Lord Kunzite is, as he always is, in his pristine white-trimmed uniform grays.

The moonlight filters down on that gray uniform of his, over the white collar and gloves and cape, and I shudder violently, because something about this just gives me the _creeps_.

Of course this is just nonsense, for my lord and my protector is Kunzite-sama, First of the Go Tennou, the right hand of the dark queen, the most beloved of all the lesser servants of Metallia, and he is mighty both in and out of the Kingdom...

And he's kinda gotten used to the way I fluff his pillow and iron his cape, so I'm as safe as anyone _can_ be.

All the same, there's a gnawing feeling in my gut, roiling around inside of my mind, and in general making me feel more nervous 'n a pretty boy in Jadeite's train.

But why? I'd never _been_ here before, dammit, there was nothing here to make me nervous at --

"Kunzite-sama," I say, as quietly as possible, lisping my esses so's the sibilance wouldn't carry through the still desert night. "Kunzite-sama, there's a spell on the pyramids."

But it's too late. _Too_ _damned_ _late_, as by then the Ueb priests have circled around, and we've turned the corner of the Great Pyramid, and see, in the very center of the great arena of sand, that Cassiterite was far more clever than any of us who'd known him before would've ever dreamed of giving him credit for...

The world before my eyes goes black.

And I remember just why I'd been so nervous. I should have twigged before the spell triggered; after all, it's my own blood that holds it in place...

====================

Cassiterite had started building his pyramids back when Kunzite had been about five years old; he didn't finish until Kunzite was thirty-four and had been Shougun of Imperial Earth for almost seven years.

So of course when he actually _finished_ the damn things, he threw a whopping big swaray for everyone who'd ever shouted "Will you just shut the fuck UP about stress points and different shades of granite blocks and angles?" at him.

Which did not really include Kunzite-shougun-sama, who had heralded Cassiterite's building obsession with a polite "Just s'long as he keeps it out of my way" attitude, but most damn definitely included various young noblemen among Kunzite's train, and sort of included me.

Not that Prince Cassiterite of Africa would've cared about me. I ain't important, or someone who could've contributed money to the "Help Raise the Pyramids!" fund.

But when a prince invites some lesser nobles to one of his parties, he's gotta invite those nobles' liege lord, which means that Kunzite and yours truly got to head down to Cassiterite's hastily-erected pavilions down at Gizeh for a week or so of free food.

Well, er, Kunzite went because he had no campaigns at the moment and because he felt like being polite at Cassiterite's damned stupid fairy-ass hunks of stone. _I_ went because I had to see about Kunzite's capes and household and stuff, and also because I'd heard that you can get some pretty good fricasseed crocodile in the Two Lands, where the pyramids are.

Turns out I was right, about damn near everything; the crocodile is delish, the weather was clear hot and hellish, and I looked pretty damn cute in the hot-weather garb that Kunzite's upper household is allowed to wear.

The thing is, the thing that gets _me_ and no one else worried, ... Cassiterite only looks vague and answers with a parry if anyone asks what, exactly, the pyramids are _for_.

They're a monument to the Silver Millennium, says Kunzite, shortly, when I dare to ask about this one night, when he comes back from a meeting of the princes in Cassiterite's great pavilion. ... Sure they are.

Well, whatever; if that's what Kunzite thinks, then that's what I think.

So I attend to my duties, right, there in the great white pavilion that Cassiterite has so kindly given to Kunzite, out in the great ring of tents outside of the ring of pale stone pyramids -- the usual things: carefully hanging up Kunzite's uniform and cape, dusting off his boots, tidying up the pavilion, overseeing the ordeal of m'lord's bath, ... you know, chainman stuff.

"You may go now, Tsurian; I will not require you for anything more tonight."

"Thanks, m'lord. Er. I'm going to take a walk..."

"Do not under any circumstances stray into the shadows of the pyramids, and if you wander off into the desert I shall be greatly displeased when at last your dry and dessicated corpse is found."

"Of course not, m'lord."

"Go, then."

"Of course, m'lord."

Like I said, my boss rocks.

So I wander out of the ring of pavilions, and LIKE AN IDIOT, wander straight into the shadows of the pyramids.

Truly this is all my own fucking fault.

In my defense, let me just say that the desert night plays fucking tricks on your fucking eyes, and you can't tell if this sand dune or that one is where you really wanted to go, anyway.

So, right, I'm wandering out there in the Gizeh desert, okay? And I'm minding my own fucking business, not hurting anyone, and so I happen to wander, not even really consciously thinking about it, right smack dab into the heart of the sandy arena betwixt the great pyramid and the greater of its lesser sisters.

There were a lotta Ueb priests and one very calm Prince of Africa who looked quite delighted that I'd showed up.

"Uh," I say.

"Welcome," Prince Cassiterite says, very gently. That's the thing about Cassiterite; he _always_ speaks gently.

It's a truism, innit, that _all_ the big burly men like Prince Cassiterite speak softly... cuz they don't really need to talk mean to drive home the point that they're more badass than you can ever be if you tried for fifty years.

Cassiterite's taller than Kunzite, and broader, and his biceps are as big around as Kunzite's _thigh_. The irises of his eyes, the tight curls of his hair, the sheen of his skin -- all of it plummy black, the beautiful dark rich velvety shade of midnight that you can only get from smooth black fruit like black plums or black grapes or a really really ripe eggplant.

He is even more beautiful than Kunzite and Zoisite put together; he combines Zoisite's beauty of face with Kunzite's air of unimpeachable majesty --

Shit, maggot, if you don't understand the words I'm sayin', then _tell_ me!

Okay. Fine. We'll just say that Cassiterite is one fucking handsome sonuvabitch and leave it at that.

He and alla his little Ueb priests are wearing the outfit of the noblemen of the Two Lands: a pleated white kilt made of linen so fine that it's damn near transparent, even in the meager light of the stars and the slivered moon.

-- Really, I do mean _fucking_ handsome as all get out.

It's a damn shame that he's so boring.

I mean it. He could send a rutting ram to sleep with one of his droning sermons on the power of balances and stabilizing forces and this and that, and who the fuck really listens?

It's probably not his fault that he's boring. It's probably why he goes around building huge piles of stone, just so he can express himself creatively instead of forcing people to actually listen to him.

But right then, you understand, I wasn't really thinking about all of this, nor tryin' to make excuses for Prince Cassiterite's penchant for workin' alla his serfs to death by hauling around huge fucking blocks of stone.

I was, in point of fact, worrying a _lot_ about that "Welcome" and the fact that all of the Ueb priests were armed with the wickedly curved ceremonial knife one usually associates with bloody altars and ....

Didn't Kunzite-sama go and _tell_ me not to wander around the fucking pyramids?

This was just not working out very well at all.

"Uh," I say again, eying the Ueb priest to my right, who _really_ isn't reassuring me, what with the smile and the constant stroking of the hilt of his knife.

"Ben't nervous," Prince Cassiterite says kindly enough, if a little archa --

_Old-fashioned_, maggot. No one but you slugs says things like "ben't" or "thee" and "thou" nowadays.

"Ben't nervous. -- You see? And you doubted. Blood was required, and here the gods provide blood," he says to the Ueb priests, who all nod vigorously.

"Blood?!" I scream, miffed. "Nuh-uh!"

I mean, really, _shit_.

Two of the priestlings grab my arms; I'm wriggling and cussing and trying like hell to get free.

Prince Cassiterite looks mildly put out. "Be thou a maiden, small one?" he asks, politely enough.

"Depends," I say, thinking I'm being ever so cunning. "Do you need a virgin's blood for this sacrifice or what- ever this is?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm not a bloody virgin!"

Except that it wasn't what comes out of my mouth; what I actually _say_ is, "I'm a virgin," which is really fucking embarrassing, not to mention potentially fatal.

I really hate gods, 'specially the kind that enforces telling the truth.

"Very good," Cassiterite says benignly, and steps to the side of the great pyramid, waving his hand at it all casually. A small rectangle of rock slides open. "Bring her."

So, right, there's me, being carried into the pyramid by some Ueb sorceror-priests, and I was screaming and squirming and trying as hard as I could to rip out some throats, and boy will this ever teach me to pay attention to where I'm friggin' _walking_ from now on.

Cassiterite himself doesn't really seem too bothered by my hysterics. I suppose he must've been used to people ranting and raving around him; boredom can breed some almighty impressive fits.

"I'm Kunzite's bloody frigging chainman," I yell at him in pure exasperation.

"Ah? We will be sure to have you back in time to fetch the Shougun's breakfast," Cassiterite says calmly.

Bloody jerk.

So, okay, we're going deeper into the pyramid and I'm still yammering away about how I'm not really happy, and you know, you kinda gotta admire the Ueb priests and Prince Cassiterite for how little they let it get to them.

And ol' Cass, he goes and tries to reassure me about how I'm going to be making the world a better place for damn near _everyone_, and you can see that I'm not really in much of a position to be appreciating how this is the case, and I'm still shrieking and trying to kick the priests holding me, and all of a sudden they drop me to stand on my feet and I feel my back up against a wall.

We're in a big-ass, high, lofty chamber, long and high and wide, blazing with light.

All around us are symbols of all the religions of the Light, with the golden sun-in-glory of Imperial Amaterasu Herself.

".... Uh. Scuse me," I say, my voice echoing in the silence of the chamber. "So what's with all the holy stuff if you're going to be sacrificing me to some horrible icky-elf demon?"

They all look horrified. "_Demon_?"

This sort of reassured me. Most demonic evil cultists don't bother to deny it when it comes right down to having the victim in the lair.

"We're not going to sacrifice thee, small one," Prince Cassiterite says, looking utterly astonished at the very suggestion, just as if he and his jerk-off priest hench- jerks _hadn't_ just hauled my ass down into the middle of this stupid pyramid _wearing knives at their belts_ and in general _acting_ like psycho cultists.

But, you know, I believe this; if there's any time to take someone's word for it that they're not gonna kill you, it's when they've got you at knifepoint and they don't shove it in.

"Okay," I say, and relax a bit.

"We must needs use thy maiden's blood as the seal upon this ring of protection against demons, though," the prince continues, and produces a wide, shallow bowl of silver.

"What?!"

-- Now maggot, tell the truth -- you got any idea of what I'm talking about, "maiden's blood" and stuff? No? Thought not. Good.

We'll just leave it at the fact that my back hit the wall for a few minutes, and the prince collected the blood himself, with one of the Ueb holding the silver bowl underneath us so's he could catch all the dribbles, and later taking the cloth they gave me to clean m'self up and putting the bloody cloth into the bowl, too.

Lousy finks.

And the blood is put in the center of the great white pentagram etched into the floor...

...

...

...

The geas! I remember! The _geas_!

_Bastards_.

My blood, my so-called "innocent" blood, is in the center of the pyramids, deep underground under the great arena of sand at the center of Gizeh, the seal for the entire set of spells and prayers keeping demons out of Africa.

... Kinda humbling, when you think about it.

But I _couldn't_ think about it after that, because fucking Cassiterite and his dumbass Ueb priests had _put a geas_ on me so I didn't remember what the hell had happened when I wandered into the shadow of the pyramids....

Fuck.

_Fuck_.

And no one ever noticed that there was another geas on me, not even _me_, because knowing all of Kunzite's secrets as I do, I have helluva lot of geasa on me _any- way_, who the fuck's going to take the time to notice one more?

So no one save Cassiterite and his Ueb sorcerer-priests ever know that Africa is protected against the demons, protected by Cassiterite's prayers, the Ueb spells, and the maiden's blood of yours truly.

So when Kunzite the demonlord and I the demon's servant step into the complex of pyramids warded by my own blood...

All shit breaks loose.

I'll say this for Cassiterite: he was fucking boring and he was a damned intense sonuvabitch, but he kept his frigging principality free of Beryl's taint, right up until the Battle of the Moon.

Bastard.

====================

When I wake up, it's back in the Kingdom, in my own little bed in my own little hole in the wall in Kunzite's quarters and that damned bitch Kurogasa is standing there, fucking _smirking_ at me.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Looking after you, Tsurian-sama," the bitch says, sniggering.

And then she hands me a mirror, and then I scream, and then I have to hit her for laughing so hard.

You wanna know why I wear this mask, why I have to wear the kurozukin all the time, maggot?

I was standing in front of Kunzite-sama when we came around the corner to take Cassiterite, maggot, as befits a servant, and therefore _I_ was the one who got the brunt of the blast, and I was the one who got my own blood flung full into my face. I'd thrown my arm up before my eyes, shielding 'em, so only my lower face got hit, but man...

Be grateful I wear the kurozukin, maggot. Be very fucking grateful indeed.

Anyway. We got out of it, mostly because Kunzite- sama had held open the portal and had the presence of mind to grab me when he went through. The spell had erupted so violently that I _still_ get migraines whenever I even _think_ of Africa, and my lower face ... _throbs_....

Kunzite-sama tried to go back, with a legion of the Janissary-youma and all the power of Metallia behind him, with the Great Lord Endymion by his side, but it was no use, maggot; Africa had been sealed off.

There was some suggestion, mainly from Kurogasa and that bastard Bokushii, that since it was _my_ blood that held the shield, they should kill me and see if _that_ might not take down the spells; luckily, Kunzite-sama wouldn't hear anything about the matter. I'm real good at ironing his capes just so, see.

I dunno, maggot. Had I managed to break through the geas sooner, I would've told Lord Kunzite what it was that held Cassiterite against the demons, the same deal that held the Moon itself until Metallia threw all of Its power against it. The spells over Africa were a lesser version of the Moon-spells, and I'm sure that if Kunzite knew what kind of spell it _was_, he could've devised a better strategy than the snatch-and-run thing that had worked so well against Nephrite at Ayers Rock.

I... just don't know, maggot. It was my fucking fault that we lost Africa, and that allowed Cassiterite to hold out and offer sanctuary to the Mikado until the Battle of the Moon when Metallia's full might burst forth.

And the other youma remember that; they remember that Tsurian is Kunzite's right hand, that Tsurian of the black mask is trusted by the First of the Shi Tennou and speaks with his voice to his legions...

And then they remember that, because of me and my blood, there was a King missing from the Hall of the Thrones, that there was a magician of Imperial Earth left to plague the legions in the Battle of the Moon.

And that, maggot, is why you had to rescue me from Bokushii a little while ago.

That, maggot, is why I'm telling you this fucking story and why I consider that we're even.

... So. You had your story. I had my chance to rest from the ordeal of bein' shoved up against a wall and made to tell a story again.

... So, just you run along now, maggot, and you can tell your grandchildren -- if you ever have any, barring you getting drunk in the same room as some really blind dumbass male youma -- that you once were of some assistance to Kurozukin no Tsurian, and me?

Well, maggot, meet me back here next week, and I'll tell you another story, could be.

In the meantime, I think I'll go get Karubiba and Nagaina and Enmao...

... and I think that we may go explain to that fucking bastard Bokushii ezackly how damned unpleasant it is to be forced up with yer back to the wall and made to give up something as precious as stories...

Or blood.