Dimande

I heard her footsteps before I saw her.

They were pounding, beating like drums calling in a flood of war. I had been sitting in my room still festering over our botched dinner conversation. It's a bit funny trying to convince someone of something. Playing the right character and saying the right words can make someone trust you, even if the truth is painfully obvious.

People believe what they want to believe. They're always willing to accept half truths. For Usagi, her perfectly crafted narrative of her life was shattering right before her eyes and I saw it as an opportunity to sink my hook deep. She needed me to lie to her—to believe that I was a changed man—that I was redeemable, because everyone else in her life was not.

But she surprised me. I had laid out my reasons, I had purposefully left out the finer details. It was true that Pitre did not tell me what he intended to do with the silver millennium crystal. It was also true that I intended to use him as a means to reunite with my brother and my people.

I had told her Pitre was willing to use me as an intermediary, and clearly in some ways, he was. But his patience was growing thin, and as each speck of sand drifted down the hourglass of fate, there was nothing I could do to protect her. He always wanted her. Always. He was going to take her, to use her power and throw her away, and I was going to let it happen.

Her footsteps barreled down the corridor, and by the time she had reached the stairs, I was already in pursuit. She was faster than I gave her credit for. At first, it was somewhat amusing. Her panicked breath rasped out in anguish, her eyes remained steadfast, lasered in on nothing but the path she was carving out for herself. When she rounded the gardens, it was clear where she was going.

I thought she might get to the door that led to the edge of this strange platform, but no part of me truly believed she would throw herself off of it into the River of Souls. As her feet pressed forward with no hesitation, something in me snapped. Suddenly I felt scared, alone and hollow. If she jumped, there would be no more Usagi in this world.

Yes, she was beautiful. For years I had longed to run my fingers across her supple skin, to see her big, blue eyes fixated on me, her mouth drawing out a soft cry of pleasure. That is where my infatuation ended. Caring for her was an entirely different matter. She was a weapon to wield—a way for me to make things right.

So why did my heart twist as she neared the edge? Why did I nearly double over as the wooden door flung open? She was just a pawn in my game—that was how it always was, and how it remained—but the thought of her going over the ledge and drifting away made me sick.

Sick enough to lie.

Relief washed through me the moment I grabbed her, stifling the wildfire raging in my heart. When we walked back to the castle, it took everything to extract my hand from her's, and even after she had gone inside and I could hear her restlessness against the sheets, I stood and waited a while longer.

What was happening to me? I had to remain focused. Each step to my room was a walk on the plank, and I prayed that sleep would find me, but knew it would not. As I eased myself onto my bed, I let out a long, mournful sigh.

I pressed my head into my hands, furiously rubbing my temples in a sad attempt to ease a growing headache. She would be expecting a return trip back to Earth, that our gentleman's agreement would remain intact as night turned into morning. Why had I agreed? I couldn't take her back, not yet. Not when Saphir and Esmeraude and all of the Black Moon Clan remained prisoners of Hell. Not when I had already made a deal that superseded any promise I made to her.

When I saw that pitiful look in her eyes, her desire to see good in me, her body crumpled on the ground and throttled by what she had almost done, the lie came out so easily.

I was going to be the thing that stood between him and you.

At the door there was a knock. I didn't move. There were only two people who could be standing there, and neither of them I wanted to see.

It opened quickly and I looked up.

"Things not going so well?"

Rubeus' voice was thick with an annoying levity, and to boot, his expression matched his mocking tone. He shut the door and crossed his way over to the fireplace, the enchanted flames the only light in the room.

"Not now, Rubeus," I scowled.

"Oh, now is the perfect time," a smile curled on his face. "I saw Usagi nearly fling herself off the platform into the River of Souls. That would've really put a wrench in your plans."

"Rubeus," I growled. He slung his elbow across the mantle and leaned into the fire's warmth, a grin still plastered on his face.

"Not to say I would've wanted that," he mused. "She is our meal ticket, after all."

"If you've just come in here to goad me, you can see yourself out," I said. He shook his head.

"Goad? Me?" He turned in a dramatic fashion, his face playfully mocking me. "I'd never do such a thing."

A sharp pain threaded through my skull. I increased the pressure to the sides of my head and closed my eyes, trying to ignore Rubeus for long enough that he would get the hint and go. Unfortunately for me, Rubeus didn't care—or seem to notice—my subtlety.

"I know you probably don't want to hear this, DImande," Rubeus strode over to the decanter on my table and poured himself a glass. "But your plan is inherently flawed."

There was always a risk when it came to involving Usagi: A risk she would run, a risk she would fight. She was unpredictable. That didn't make for a good plan, especially one that hinged on her participation. Rubeus was a fool to think I hadn't noticed.

"It will work, Rubeus." I stood up and joined him at the table. The crystal decanter glistened in the firelight. I poured myself a glass. Enchanted wine didn't taste as good as the real thing, but I slugged it down, letting it burn my throat. "I'm not going to let her return to Earth."

"That's where you're wrong." Another wry smile. I wanted to reach out and slap him.

"And why is that?" I snipped.

"Don't you think it's strange that she hasn't transformed into Sailor Moon while she's been here?"

I blinked. I hadn't even thought about that. "What do you mean?" Rubeus shook his head and took a long sip. His eyes flickered to me above the rim of his glass.

"For someone so desperate to leave our castle, you'd think she would use her magic to overtake us. And yet, here we stand unscathed by her incredible power. So my question becomes: Why would throwing herself in an ethereal river—one she knows is sure to kill her—seem like a better choice than transforming?"

He was right. The River of Souls should've been her last resort. Maybe she was hiding the crystal, purposefully not using it in this dimension to shield herself from suspicion, to stop Pitre from grabbing it right from underneath her.

"She used to wear it in that gaudy brooch." Rubeus' voice snapped me back from my own thoughts. "But I haven't seen it. I didn't see it when she arrived, and I haven't seen it in her room."

My muscles tensed. Her room? Jealousy flared in me, causing me to go stiff. I pictured him in there with her, looming over her as she slept and drinking in her scent. My knuckles cracked and my nails dug into the tender flesh of my palm.

"Why have you been in her room?"

Rubeus howled with laughter. "Calm down," he chided. "Don't worry, I'm not making any late night visits to her bedroom. But I have been making use of her time with you just to, you know, look around."

I relaxed, but only slightly so. Rubeus had always been cunning. That's why he was my right-hand man back in Crystal Tokyo. But seeing as how we weren't aligned as we used to be, and that I could tell he resented me for dragging him into this entire arrangement, his espionage tactics didn't conjure visions of our good ol' days.

"What I'm trying to say is, she doesn't have it," Rubeus said flatly. "Wherever her crystal is, it's definitely not in this castle."

"So where is it then?" I asked. Rubeus shrugged.

"No idea. But I'd say it's safe to assume it's back on Earth." He looked down into his cup, twirling the red liquid inside. "So deliver her and wait. Watch her while she takes it back into her possession and approach her again. And if she doesn't agree, well, then take her by force. But this time don't let your schoolboy crush get in the way of your brutality."

More lies, more deceit. Truthfully, it was a great plan. Had I not been there to pull her back, she would most assuredly be dead, and my heroism deserved a reward. Subconsciously I wondered whether that's why I chased after her-if that's why I saved her. My stomach turned and my voice caught in my throat.

"What makes you think she'll help me now," I said.

"Look," Rubeus looked at me squarely. "You've created a false sense of security. You saved her, she owes you. You bring her back to Earth and she's going to think you're good on your word. You've managed to paint yourself as a sympathetic character, so why not take advantage of it?"

He was right. From the moment Usagi had stepped foot in this world, I had tried to plead my case and it wasn't all insincere. I did feel sorry for my actions, I did want to make things right, but I also didn't mind stepping over her to make those things tangible. It had been many years since I felt guilt—true, unparalleled culpability—but I could feel something like it snag on the rigid edges of my soul.

Rubeus' plan was a good one. I had once again taken for granted his eye for detail.

"I thought you were against this whole plan from the start." My face was flat and my voice was steady—it was everything I could do to hide my surprise.

"I am," he sighed. "But unfortunately you have tied me here and there's no escaping. If it were up to me, we would've stayed in the River of Souls and floated straight to our final end like we were supposed to."

"I had to redeem my people," I said.

"No, you had to redeem yourself." Venom poured out of him. His voice, his eyes, his body language: Spiteful, and yet still obedient. "You're still as selfish as you ever were, you're just trying to hide behind an act of nobility."

"You're wrong about that," I said.

"I'm wrong?" He laughed. "I don't remember you asking me what I wanted when you found me in the River of Souls."

He took one last swig of wine and placed the glass on the table. He wasted no time in heading for the door, and without a word, he slipped out back into the darkness of the corridor and the confines of his room.

The River of Souls moved unnaturally. A river flows, its current presses onward in one direction, water thrashing through a bank of dirt or stone, but this seemed to move everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

Death is not instant. Even if you die as soon as the blade cuts, your soul is still captured in the in-between, drifting against the darkness. What I know now is that everyone is sent to this middle plane and everyone is sorted into their own versions of purgatory. And eventually, everyone finds themselves floating.

The River is made up of energy—of life—that is moving from one dimension to the next, and as you drift, you feel a weightlessness. Your body is stripped of its material belongings, and despite your nakedness, you feel no shame. Bare skin is no more erotic than a blank sheet of paper, and while you can see clearly, you cannot reach out and touch.

Others surround you and you can hear them chattering about their lives before the River, before they died. Some are sad, others are happy, but most drift in and out, weaving through the spectacular neon green sheets of light that travel beside them.

Souls splinter off when their time in the River has come to pass. Wherever they land, it is permanent—unless you have otherworldly magic.

I do not know how long I was in the River when he slithered up to me. Time passed strangely there. He told me it had been years since I had died, but to me, it felt like only a few hours had ticked away. He was small, lithe. He had moppy black hair and emerald green eyes that picked up and reflected every hue emanating from the River.

He said his name was Pitre and that he was a wizard. He had been in the River less time than me, but had not toiled away drifting like I had. Every minute he used to develop his magic, pulling from the energy of the souls around him to create a spell so powerful it could bring someone back to life—possibly even two.

The trouble was, he explained, he couldn't perform the magic on himself.

And it was a shame, he said, as he had come from a world where he was shunned for what he was. His people were banished by an evil queen, and he needed to set things back on a course of righteousness. But if he was floating here, he could not do it.

In the River of Souls, people feel much more free to talk about their lives because they are over. Secrets are reserved for those with something to hide, and in the River there is nothing to hide from. You will meet your maker—whomever that turns out to be—and they will know you, stripped bear of the lies you've told yourself and others.

So I did not think Pitre was lying to me. His story was so much like mine and I empathized. Was I a fool to let him in? Probably. But he offered to use his magic on me if I agreed to give him something in return.

At first, I hesitated. I was resigned to my loss. I was done playing to the hand of strange wizards offering the world. It wasn't until he mentioned seeing my brother Saphir in the River that I started to second guess myself.

Saphir had reached the gates of Hell, he said. He would burn there for an eternity. Unless…

Before I could agree, I told him I had to know what became of Esmeraude and Rubeus. Did they drift all the way to the gates? That's when he pointed me to Rubeus, and he helped me swim in the flow to find him. I should've known Rubeus would say no, but I begged and promised and pleaded, and when he finally caved to me, I made a deal.

I can't remember the questions I asked Pitre. I can't remember if he explained any further where he was from or why he and his people had been banished. It was only after he had restored me did I think it prudent to ask. But by then it was too late.

I woke up in a cold sweat. Light was breaking through my window already and I wondered how long I had been asleep. I peeled myself from the sheets, rubbing my eyes groggily as I went to the window. Another knock rapped at my door and I shook my head. Apparently, Rubeus wasn't done toying with me.

I swung the door open, ready to spit fire at him, rearing for a fight, but instead it was Usagi. Her skin was pale and her eyes were heavy—she had not slept well. I was stunned to see her there, but did not say a word of it.

"Dimande," she said softly. "I…"

Nodding my head in encouragement, I remained silent. It wasn't as if I was holding back, I was just so unsure of what to say.

"I know you're supposed to take me back today, but there's something I need to tell you," she said. "I don't have the crystal with me, it's on Earth."

Rubeus was right. I hated when he was right.

"Oh?" I tried to sound surprised, and apparently it was convincing enough. She nodded, a pained expression across her face.

"I do want you to take me back to Earth, but I've been thinking about it." She looked down at her hands as they wrung in and out of one another. "I want to help you. I am going to help you, but on one condition."

I nodded my head again, anticipation surging through me.

"Once I get the crystal, I want you to take me back here," she said. "And I want to meet the man who needs my magic."

The world was tilting in my favor, so why did I feel a sudden sense of dread?