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-- Attached file included as plaintext by Ecartis --
-- File: bewitched.txt

Sailor Moon and all related characters are copyright of Naoko
Takeuchi and are used here for non-profit purposes only.

NOTE: This story contains sexually explicit scenes of a dark nature.
As well, it takes place in an alternate universe setting.  Any or all of
these elements may offend some readers, so please proceed only at
your own discretion.  Thank you.





                   Shadow of the Witchqueens

                by Eric Buchanan



Part One: The Witches of Raven


     Stupid.

     It was not a word generally associated with Ami Mizuno, but
tonight it was all too appropriate.  She'd stayed ensconced in the
labyrinthine stacks of the academy's library for long hours, lost in the
wonders of the printed word, completely oblivious to the waning of
the day.

     Books were her friends, the only friends she really had.
They never taunted her or mocked her, never played cruel jokes or
inflicted pain at some unfathomable bitchy whim.  She found
comfort in their presence, and in the knowledge they imparted, so
much so that sometimes she lost herself.

     Like tonight.

     She scurried through the shadowed paths that wound
through the sprawling grounds of Raven Academy, shoulders
hunched as if to make her less conspicuous.  Ami was good at
appearing inconspicuous; it could be a defence sometimes.

     But keeping your eyes averted and hoping some snooty
class queen didn't decide to amuse herself at your expense was one
thing.  The eerie menace of the night was quite another.  Ami
clutched her satchel tightly against her chest as she darted from one
pool of pale light to the next, eyes darting madly.  The dark seemed
to press in all around her, and the dry rustling of dead leaves riding
the cool breeze whispered softly to her, hissing sweet, mad, corrupt
poetry in a long dead language that teetered at the brink of terrible
comprehension.

     It had gotten dark while she'd foolishly tarried in the depths
of the hulking old library.  Very, very dark.  And no book,
regardless of how fascinating, could protect her from the things
unbound by nightfall.

     There had always been the sense of something about the
academy, something old and brooding and quite possibly
dangerous.  It was never really acknowledged openly, but the
knowledge lived in whispered late night conversations in dormitory
rooms, and in the unconscious quickening of steps past the old
clock tower's shadow no matter how bright the day.

     But things had been getting worse of late.  Ami couldn't
understand why most of the girls seemed oblivious; to her, it was
like a weight in the air, a tingling pressure on the flesh at the nape
of her neck.  And it always intensified after dark.

     She cast about desperately, her pulse loud in her ears.
There were places that still felt safe after dark, but this wasn't one
of them.  She'd panicked when she'd realized how late it had
gotten; leaving the sanctuary of the library had been a mistake.  If
she wasn't so timid, she'd have waited for the librarian to come out
and asked to walk with her, but the mere thought of being so
forward made her throat close, even thought the librarian, Miss
Fujiyama, was young and friendly enough.

     Better to die then, Ami? she asked herself bitterly.  The
thought was absurd, of course; nobody had died.  Strange things
had happened, but this was Raven Academy, and normal rules did
not apply here.  It didn't mean anything sinister, nothing at all, and
so what if her heart was racing and her blood slammed against the
backs of her eyes?  The lights of the main quad were visible now
through the trees, only about a hundred feet away, and once there
she'd be safe.

     Later, in her room, she could lie safe in her bed and laugh
ruefully at how she'd gotten all worked up over nothing but a bad
case of the jitters.

     A sound stopped her.  It was soft, yet somehow it came to
her over the voice of the wind and the skittering of the leaves and
her own feverish heart's beat.  She froze, caught in the darkness
between two pools of light, breath catching in her throat.  Nothing,
she told herself as she assumed her characteristic defensive posture
of absolute stillness in the face of an unknown threat.  There was no
sound, nothing at all.

     There it was again.  A soft moan, coming from the deeper gloom
under the trees that verged the path.  Ami stared, frozen by fear.
Something deep inside her knew there was danger, some deep
atavistic fear that even she, who always defined everything, could not
name.

     Again that moan, a little louder this time.  It was feminine,
breathy.  It was not the sound of someone in pain; far from it.
Desire lived in that sound, lust and arousal too.  But Ami's fear was
not mollified.  This was no lover's tryst she'd stumbled upon under
the autumn sky.  There was something much darker here, dark and
hungry.

     "Please ... stop it ...."  The girl's voice whimpered from the
darkness, and almost against her will Ami found her eyes drawn to
its source.  She could make out shapes now, and it seemed to her
that her mind filled in the details: a girl, standing with her arms
above her head, wearing an academy uniform, her head tilted back.
Ami blinked.  Something seemed to be twined around the girl's
wrists and holding her up that way, almost like strands of the night
itself.  And behind her was another form, cloaked in shadow and
difficult to make out.  But Ami somehow had the definite impression
that this one was also female.

     "Stop?" a voice replied, laced with cruel pleasure.  "You
don't really want me to stop, now, do you?"  A slim shadowy hand
slipped around the captive girl's waist, moving up like a phantom of
the night to cup her breast.  It squeezed, and the girl cried out in
helpless pleasure, short dark hair dishevelled by the way she tossed
her head.

     "See?" the voice asked mockingly.  Ami thought numbly
that she had been  right.  The voice seemed to be female, although it
hovered at the limits of comprehension, sister to the whispering
leaves.  "Your true nature is taking over."

     "N-no, that's a lie ..." the girl wailed, struggling weakly as
the hand began to slide lower, down the front of her dishevelled
uniform.  Ami watched, strangely mesmerized as it slipped,
unhindered, under the girl's skirt, and up ...

     Run, Ami thought.  Run away, before they know you're
here.  But she couldn't move.  She stood, frozen with horror.

     "Yes," the captor's voice crooned, insinuating itself into the
accommodating wind.  "You are ready, my dear.  You must be
enjoying your audience."

     Ice filled Ami's veins, and in that moment she made out the
eyes of the shadowy form behind the girl, glowing like a cat's, but
crimson, like tainted blood.

     Those eyes were looking at her.

     Ami wanted to run, or scream, or even collapse, but
something about the scene held her immobile, almost as if she were
the one captured.  Trembling, she watched as the shadow-woman
raised her hand to her captive's face, wiping something wet and
glistening across slack lips.  Then those shadowy hands began to
trace the girl's form, trailing lightly over every curve, touching
places, intimate places, places that made Ami hot and cold and
shaky just thinking about them.

     Then those cruel hands came together, grasping the
whimpering girl's blouse and tearing it open easily.  Ami gasped as if
it were her own breasts that were rudely exposed to the cool night
air, and her nipples tightened painfully, as if from ... the cold, yes,
nothing more than that.  Those hands, still somehow cloaked in
shadow, cupped their prizes and elicited another throaty moan.  All
Ami could see was the pale flesh of the girl's taut neck and high, firm
breasts against the deeper shadow.  The girl's long legs had buckled,
and it seemed that only her mystical bondage held her up now.

     "Now you'll show me what I want to see," the captor's
voice murmured, laced with satisfaction.  "You won't resist any
further, will you?"  Ami could make out the girl biting her lip as she
shook her head, shame warring with something else on her face.

     "No."  It was only a whisper, the softest yet, but it was as
plain to Ami as the second woman was hidden.  And, although the
shadows seemed to conspire to hide the girl's attacker, somehow
Ami was certain that that one word evoked a smile.

     One shadowy finger began to trace a path over the captive
girl's bare chest, and Ami stifled a gasp.  At first, she thought the
red line that appeared in the finger's trail was blood.  The cry that
was torn from the helpless girl's throat, though, was not one of
pain, and the red line began to glow with a deep, corrupt crimson
fire.  The finger continued on its way, utterly unhurried, and Ami
knew she was witness to something depraved, unholy, a wicked
seduction that belonged wholly to the dark.

     And she knew, somehow, that she would suffer for having
seen.  She knew, but her legs remained frozen in place as she
stared, spellbound.  Her mind, her intellect, the only thing she had
that made her at all special, was gibbering in fear, unable to do
anything in the face of this madness.

     Even though Ami was certain she could feel the shadowed
form's gaze upon her, the finger had continued on its way, crossing
its own path.  Dimly, Ami realized what shape was being drawn on
the trembling girl's chest.

     A pentagram.  The five pointed star glowed fitfully, centred over
the girl's heart.  The moment the pattern was completed, it blazed
even brighter, pulsing like a heart.  The girl's cries escalated, her
pleas unintelligible as the unwholesome magic had its way with her
body.  The pattern pulsed faster and faster and then, as the girl let
loose with a drawn out wordless cry, it became a solid blaze of light.

     And at that moment, as Ami watched in horror, something
emerged smoothly from the centre of the pattern, rising from
the smooth pale flesh as if it were as intangible as mist.  It was a
sphere as big as a fist, its swirling surface alive with a lovely swirl of
colors.  Ami almost thought she could see something lurking
in its depths, even from where she was standing, something secret,
hidden from the light.

     "So."  The captor's voice came, resigned.  "Nothing special,
hmm?  How disappointing.  Still, you were diverting ..."  That
hand, still obscured by shadow despite the red glow that cast the
captive girl's slack face in harsh relief, slithered up to the floating
ball of turbulent light and cupped it almost tenderly.  Then the
shadowy form bent forward, and it seemed to Ami that it was
bestowing a kiss upon that strange sphere.

     The moment the captor completed that kiss, the ball burst open,
tendrils snaking sinuously around the petite captive's body in a
strangely erotic embrace.  The tendrils spread, snaking up between
her legs, flowing hungrily over bared breasts, and quickly enveloping
the subjugated girl's entire body.  Once that had happened, the
corrupt tendrils tightened until every curve of the girl's body was
shamefully highlighted, as if she no longer wore clothing beneath the
ravishing sheath.  Her body writhed and twisted so, Ami had a
moment to wonder just what was being done to her.  She couldn't
possibly be experiencing an org ... THAT again so quickly.

     Could she?

     Finally, the glowing bindings darkened and burst apart, and
at that moment Ami staggered, whatever power that had been
holding her gone.

     But far, far too late.

     "Well," the shadow's voice murmured.  "That's much
better."  The shadow leaned forward to whisper something in the
girl's ear, then as Ami watched, the glow of those mesmerizing eyes
faded and was gone.

     Leaving her alone with ... who?

     Ami stared in disbelief at the girl who had, only moments
ago, been the victim of some supernatural violation.  Now, freed
from the binding tendrils, she had changed.  Oh, she was still the
same girl, and yet not the same.  Her face, which had been a pretty
but ordinary face, was subtly different for starters; her eyes
narrowed, her cheekbones somehow more pronounced, her lips
redder and set in a cruel leer.  Her dark, shoulder length hair
seemed to swirl in the night breeze like a thing alive.

     And her uniform was gone, replaced by something out of
some S&M nightmare, all form-fitting black leather and zippers and
metal rings.

     "Did you enjoy the show?" the girl asked huskily, and Ami
started.   Even her voice was different, a low sensual growl quite
unlike her breathy pleas of earlier.

     "P-please," Ami stuttered, becoming aware for the first time
in what seemed like ages of how she had her satchel clutched to her
chest.  "I ... I didn't mean to see, I w-won't tell ..."

     A shrill, sadistic laugh rose into the air.

     "No," the girl agreed, licking her lips lasciviously.  "You
won't.  I'm to restrain you, little one, and then you'll be given to my
mistress to see if you can be of any use at all."

     "What?"  Ami's voice was a strangled whisper, even though
she wanted to scream.  This couldn't be real, it couldn't be.

     "You look like a frigid little bitch to me," the leather-clad
girl went on, "but you'll provide me with a little entertainment
before my mistress puts you to work licking her toilets clean, won't
you?"

     "Help," Ami gasped, her voice still too quiet.  "Someone ...."

     "Nobody will hear," the girl smirked, moving closer.  "It's
just you and me, little girl."  Ami shook her head mutely and then
finally, mercifully, she found the strength to turn and run.  All those
hours spent swimming alone might finally pay off if she was able to
outrun her tormentor, just make it to where people were.

     But even in her blind panic, she couldn't run fast enough.
There was a harsh crack, and a line of fire blazed along her upper
thigh just below the hem of her skirt.  She stumbled and fell
headlong onto the grass, sprawling clumsily.  As she lay there,
stunned, she heard the sharp sound of high heels coming onto the
paved path.  The sound seemed to keep time with the throbbing in
her leg, and her chaotic thoughts sought some sort of connection
between the two.

     Finally, she rolled over.  There was a long red welt on her
leg, no doubt caused by the whip that was being brandished by the
advancing girl.  Ami knew it was over.  She was too frightened to
even try to run anymore.  And anyway, what was the point?  She
was too slow, too clumsy to get away.  She should just close her
eyes and wait for it to be over.

     "That's all the fight you're going to put up?" the leather-
clad vision sneered.  "You aren't going to be any fun at all, are
you?"

     "No," another voice replied.  "She's not."

     Ami blinked, uncertain for a moment if she'd actually heard
anything.  But the S&M queen had stopped her advance and was
looking around, surprise stamped on her starkly beautiful features.

     "Who's there?" she demanded angrily.  In reply, a streak of
light arced through the darkness, lancing into the ground between
Ami and her attacker.  Ami blinked at what she saw there, quivering
ever so slightly in the cold hard ground.

     A rose?

     It was, she realized through the veil which seemed to be
falling over her senses.  Not just any rose, but one which
shimmered with power, its petals like moonlight given form.  And
strangely, for just a second Ami felt a sensation of familiarity from
that sight, although she could not explain why.

     "A flower?" the girl spat, still searching the darkness.
"You're going to have to do better than that!"

     "Really?" an amused female voice replied.  "I don't think
that look suits you.  Let's see your true face, shall we?"

     The rose glowed suddenly, filling the path with its gorgeous
pale radiance.  The whip-wielding girl raised her arms instinctively
to shield her eyes, and then the rose came to life.  It snaked out, its
stem lengthening like a thing alive, and quickly wound around the
startled girl.  More vines erupted from its thorny length as she cried
out and began to struggle, further imprisoning her in its merciless
grip.  Her struggling form was lifted into the air, hopelessly ensnared
in the twining stems.  Above her, the rose raised its petals to the
sullen sky, and the scudding clouds parted to allow a shaft of
moonlight through, a single column of silvery brilliance that speared
through the gathered shadows to pin the bound girl.  Then the rose
spread its petals wide, and bent down to the girl's upturned face.
She tried to scream, but it somehow enfolded her face, almost like it
was bestowing some strange kiss.  Ami heard faint muffled cries as
the girl's struggles grew even more frantic, then there was a burst of
silver-white light.

     Through the nimbus of pure radiance Ami could see the girl, eyes
closed and once more wearing her torn academy uniform, falling
gently to earth.  And behind her, she saw two figures; one, taller, a
female form with long pale hair bound back at the crown of her head,
the other down on one knee, a girl with tumbled waves of dark hair.
She couldn't make out much detail, but one thing she was sure she
saw before darkness rose up and claimed her.

     The kneeling girl had a mark on her forehead.  To Ami, it
looked like a gleaming crescent moon.



                      ####



     She knelt before the image of her mistress, the door in the
distance behind her looking eerily mundane against the strangely
twisted space.

     "Rise, Kaolinite, and report," a voice commanded.  The
seductive red-head did as she was bid.

     "My plan is proceeding as I'd hoped," Kaolinite said, keeping
her low husky voice free of emotion.  "I have insinuated myself into
the local power structure and have taken steps to ensure that I can
operate freely."

     "That is all well and good," the other replied smoothly.  "But
all this effort will prove to be wasted if your hunch proves
unfounded."

     "True," Kaolinite said.  "Still, Raven Academy sits at a nexus of
power.  Strange happenings are hardly rare at the school, but of late
rumors have intensified.  And there have been some incidents locally
that cause me to wonder if one of the other Witchqueens is exercising
her influence."

     "That remains supposition at this point," Mistress 9 said with a
faint shadow of menace in her voice.  "And regardless, I fail to see
what that has to do with the Phoenix Egg."

     "Perhaps nothing," Kaolinite said, determined to keep her
outward calm.  Mistress 9 would pounce if she showed fear;
Kaolinite had no doubt of that.  "But something stirs at Raven,
something I've yet to pin down.  Strange magick, unfocussed and
unfamiliar.  But powerful.  And there was the recent discovery ..."

     "The pages reputed to be from Raven's journal?" the
Witchqueen asked, an edge to her voice.  That edge was full of dark
humor, and  Kaolinite knew it could turn on her in an instant.
Still, she had her trump card to play.

     "I know they have yet to be authenticated," Kaolinite
murmured, "but taken together with what we know of the writings
on the Obelisk, they could be interpreted to mean that Raven had
knowledge of the Phoenix Egg's location."

     "The academy was scoured after the lovely Raven's
disappearance all those years ago," Mistress 9 pointed out, that
dangerous edge sharpening.  "And many times, I've no doubt, in
the decades since.  Yet you really think that some secrets remain
there, important enough to justify your personal attention?  There
are other matters I would have you attend to, my lovely witch."

     Kaolinite took a deep breath.  Time to play her trump card.

     "Of course, Mistress.  However, I am not the only one to make
the association, or give it credence," the red-head declared.  "My spy
daimons spotted Siren nearby yesterday, and where she goes Crow is
not far behind."

     "Galaxia's minions," Mistress 9 breathed.

     "Yes, Mistress 9," Kaolinite replied.  "And there is only one
reason I can think of for those two to have come so close to a rival
Witchqueen's territory at this time."

     "I concur," the sultry Witchqueen said, that dangerous edge
turned away from Kaolinite at last.  "Of the others, only Galaxia
might have enough information to have reached the conclusion we
did."  We, Kaolinite thought dryly.  Now we reached the conclusion?
But her revelation had its intended affect; Mistress 9 was certainly
not going to risk losing anything to her rival, no matter how remote
the chances that there actually was anything to lose.

     The Mistress brooded silently for a moment, then fixed
Kaolinite with a cool stare.

     "Do you wish reinforcements?" she asked the crimson-tressed
witch with an imperious glance.  Kaolinite knew that there were
snares and traps in that question for the unwary; asking for help
would be a sign of weakness which she, as the first and greatest of
Mistress 9's witches, could not afford.

     "No, Mistress." Kaolinite replied smoothly.  "If those two cross
my path, I will be more than happy to teach them some discipline
and present them, bound and subjugated, to you.  They shall not
beat me to any prize which may be here."

     "Excellent," Mistress 9 crooned.  "But I wish to be kept
informed, Kaolinite.  If others of our enemies are drawn there, for
whatever reason, I may have to commit your sisters to the battle."

     "As you command, Mistress 9," Kaolinite  said with a
respectful bow.  The image faded, and  Kaolinite turned, walking
across nothingness to the floating door.  There was much at stake
here, and if she was wrong about the prize she would suffer dearly.

     She, however, did not suffer from any lack of confidence.
She was right; the fact that Siren and Crow had been sent showed
that Galaxia thought that the rumors about Phoenix Egg were
worth investigating.  Kaolinite, however, was far more subtle and
shrewd than her opposition.  And she hadn't just been boasting,
either.  She relished the chance to take down those two and make
them slaves of her mistress.

     Humming under her breath, she passed through the door,
already intent on plumbing her sources to find out the truth behind
the night's events.

     Knowledge, after all, really was power.  And power was what
separated the huntress from her conquered prey.



                      ####


     All eyes were upon her.

     Even if that wasn't true, it certainly felt that way.  Ami
scurried across the campus, deriving no comfort from the bright
morning sunshine.  Every group of girls she passed seemed to fall
quiet as she drew near, and the weight of their stares was an
oppressive force on her skin.

     Word certainly travelled fast.

     She'd awoken in the nurse's office the previous night,
disoriented and frightened.  She and another student had been
found lying on the ground, unconscious.  The state of the other
girl's clothing had led to some pointed questions from the nurse,
but Ami had instinctively lied about what happened, claiming that
she'd come upon a shadowy scene and had fainted.  The nurse had
not seemed satisfied with that explanation, but there had been little
she could do.  She kept the other girl for observation and released
Ami.  A proctor had escorted Ami back to her dormitory with
admonitions to keep quiet about the strange events.

     Ami had of course agreed, but silently she'd wondered just
how much good that would do.  Students had discovered her and
the other girl, and rumors of how two girls, one with her clothes
torn half off, had been found on the grounds after dark unconscious
were too juicy to remain under wraps for long.

     Apparently, her instincts had proven correct, to judge by the
reactions all around her.  She just ducked her head and scurried
along even faster, silently berating herself for not staying in bed
instead of going to class.

     After all, Raven Academy was a wild place, the veneer of
high-class academia constantly being torn away by quarrels between
students of the Faculty of Magick and their rivals in the Faculty of
Martial Arts, or by some experiment from the Science and Tech
Faculty gone badly awry.  Some days the campus resembled a bad
monster movie or mecha anime, others it seemed less like a school
and more like a battleground.  If Ami laid low long enough,
something more interesting was bound to crop up to occupy the
attention of the girls who attended her school.

     Unfortunately, right now it seemed that she was going to be
the centre of attention, and if there was one thing Ami Mizuno
hated it was being the centre of attention.  The campus this morning
was, with the sort of perversity Ami had come to expect in her life,
uncharacteristically quiet.  None of Professor Jahanna's students
was breaking anything or chasing anyone, no rampaging creatures
had been accidentally unleashed from the inky shadows of Darkside
by the school's fledgling sorceresses, and even the hulking old S and
T building where Ami had most of her classes showed no signs of
chemical spill, fire or handy explosion.

     Drat.

     Ami brooded as she slipped as unobtrusively as possible
along the twisting path.  What she had witnessed the previous night
had been some sort of dark magick, of that she had no doubt.
Nobody at the school should be dabbling in anything like that, but
that didn't mean much.  Students at the academy were notoriously
careless when it came to rules and regulations, and the staff had
their hands full just keeping order most days.  But this, this was
unlike anything Ami had ever seen or even heard of outside the
most depraved dark whisperings.

     She shuddered lightly, the memory returning with a
frightening intensity.  What had been done to that girl had mixed
magick with some sort of dark erotic power that she'd apparently
been helpless to resist.  Ami was, for the most part, a coldly rational
girl, but as she'd lain in her bed the previous night one thought kept
returning to her.

     The only thing even remotely like what she'd seen was the
power of the Witchqueens.  But the whispered tales of the decadent
Witchqueens and their bound and beguiled minions were only that,
tales to be told in delightfully scandalized whispers in the dark of
night, lingered over for their lurid pleasure.  Nobody really believed
that Witchqueens still existed in this day and age, still vying with each
other for power and influence.  They had long since been wiped out
by the Sorcerer's Guild.

     But that thought led to another, and Ami recalled the power
that had vanquished the darkness which had claimed her fellow
student.  It had been eerily beautiful, somehow evoking the power
of the moon's light to shatter the darkness.  And back in the age of
the Witchqueens, there had also been a mysterious woman who
claimed to rule with the power of the moon, hadn't there?

     It was no good.  She could go around and around in circles
this way, reading every old legend and story into what had
happened.  But Ami couldn't be satisfied with such fantastic
suppositions.  She needed proof, cold hard solid facts.  The logical
thing to do would be to go to someone in the Faculty of Magick and
ask about dark magick and silver roses.  But she had no friends
there.  Well, truthfully, she had no friends anywhere, as far as that
went.  But the rivalry between faculties was quite intense, and one
look at her uniform would be enough to close doors to casual
inquiry.  She'd have to try another way.  After all, research was
more her cup of tea.

     Many of the buildings on campus were old, dating back a
century or more, when youma attacks had still been quite common.
Of those, most were supposedly haunted, including the one where
Ami had her homeroom.  Students had, over the years, claimed to
have seen the ghost of the legendary Aki Raven herself in the
building.  Of course, students had claimed to see that particular
ghost in every building on campus, from the old library annex to the
new gymnasium.  Considering that Raven's body had never been
found, Ami had often wondered if it was such a safe bet that she was
actually dead.  By all accounts, she'd been a sorceress of rare power,
and some of the feats attributed to her during the Great Daimon War
were nothing short of mind-boggling.

     She mounted the stone stairs that led to the main doors,
slipping though throngs of girls as she went.  She could hear the
odd whisper as she went, and one in particular nearly stopped her in
her tracks.

     "Pervert."

     They couldn't.  They couldn't think that she had attacked
that girl.  Her, Ami Mizuno?  Everyone knew about her.  She was
boring, plain, dull, dreadfully vanilla.  No one spared her a second
glance.  That was the way it had always been.  How could they say
such things?

     Her face felt heavy and hot as she ducked her head and charged
heedlessly up the stairs, shame suffusing her even though she knew
she'd done nothing wrong.  A part of her wanted to lash out, to
shout at them, tell them to stop.  But that part of her was buried
deeply beneath layer after layer of meek acceptance.  If she'd
been able to stand up for herself, after all, she'd have never let her
mother send her to this school in the first place.  All her mother had
cared about was the prestige, the cachet of the Raven Academy
name; the fact that the place was populated with rich, spoiled, willful
girls bent on proving their superiority over each other on a constant
basis didn't faze her in the least.

     Although it might have, Ami thought darkly, if she'd been
the one who'd had to spend her days in this borderline lunatic
asylum.

     Still brooding, Ami made her way to her homeroom.  Surely
there were people on campus more suited to dealing with this
situation, whatever it turned out to be.  Between the bold, brassy,
audacious martial artists, the sleek, sultry sorceresses, and the keen
girl geniuses, not to mention the school's somewhat eclectic
faculty, there was a lot of power that could be brought to bear on
such a problem.  There was no way her involvement could possibly
make the slightest bit of difference.

     So why couldn't she let this go?

     Finally she reached her homeroom, hesitating outside the
door.  The class was already more than half-full, with first bell
already having sounded.  The buzz of conversation quieted as she
passed through the doorway, and she could practically feel the
weight of eyes upon her.  None of the attention was friendly; that
went without saying.  But the bell would go any second, and then
she'd be safe, at least until the end of class.

     She barely made it to her desk before the second bell chimed,
and relief flooded through her as she sank into her seat.  Ami made
a great show of shuffling her books, keeping her attention rivetted
on her desk as she waited for her homeroom teacher to arrive.  With
her luck, the teacher would pick that day to be late.

     Luck was with her, though, as Miss Haruna breezed
through the door in a swirl of flame-red hair, wearing one of her
trademark curve-hugging dresses.  The class representative led
them as they stood and bowed, then sat.  Oddly, though, Miss
Haruna stood expectantly at the front of the room, and for one
dizzying moment Ami was certain that the slender young woman
was going to call upon her for an explanation of the previous
night's events.

     Instead, Miss Haruna turned to the door, motioning for someone
to enter.  A low murmur went through the room as a girl entered, and
Ami's hopes were suddenly raised.  A transfer student!  She'd occupy
the attention of the others, at least for a while.

     The girl was wearing the uniform of the academy's Faculty of
Magick.  Unlike the academic uniform with its puffy sleeves and
sailor-style collar, worn by Ami and at least half of Miss Haruna's
homeroom, this girl's outfit consisted of a fitted blazer with the
academy's emblem on the breast and matching pleated skirt, white
blouse and dark narrow necktie.  She filled out the uniform quite
nicely, too, Ami noticed with a twinge of jealousy.  The girl's pale
blonde hair was pulled up into large cloth covered buns on either side
of her head, but the bangs were loose and framed her face, brushing
against her high cheekbones.  Blue eyes stared out with cool
appraisal at the class, and from the set of the new girl's lithe body
and the general way she held herself, Ami knew that this one was
far from shy.  And if she was studying magick at the academy, there
was sure to be more to her than met the eye.

     "Class," Miss Haruna said briskly.  "Starting today, we have
a new transfer student.  This is Silke Tsukino.  Please make her
welcome.  Tsukino-san, you can sit over there."  She indicated an
empty desk, and Ami cringed.  Of course, the only empty desks in
the class were near her, and now she might be forced to make small
talk with this new girl.  Had Silke been at all timid or uncertain,
Ami might have been able to manage, but this girl moved with
confidence and complete self-assurance, no sign of uncertainty at
all.  Ami was impressed; she herself could think of nothing so nerve
wracking as having to walk into a room full of strangers.

     Well, almost nothing.

     To her relief, Silke didn't attempt to engage her in any sort
of conversation whatsoever.  Silke idly tapped the end of her
pencil against her full lower lip and looked profoundly bored as the
class rep went through the morning's announcements.  Ami found
herself hoping the girl wasn't trouble.  There were enough girls like
that here already.

     At one point, Silke caught Ami watching her.  The new girl
gave her a look that made Ami blush; there was something intimate
about that look, not sexual but subtly intrusive, as if Silke had
looked right through to the core of her and judged her in that
instant.

     When the class rep had finished, she sat down, and Miss
Haruna went rummaging about in her briefcase, pulling out a large
textbook.  Before she could even sit down, though, there was a
knock at the door.  With an expression that could charitably be
described as annoyed, Miss Haruna stalked over to the door and
yanked it open.  Most of the time, the lovely young teacher was
quite easy to get along with, but her temper was something no
student wanted to be on the receiving end of.

     Ami strained along with the rest of the class to hear what
was being said; the rest of the class except, of course, for Silke,
who seemed not to care in the least.  Finally, Miss Haruna stuck her
head back into the room, and Ami's stomach curdled as the
teacher's gaze unerringly sought her out.

     "Mizuno-san," she said, her expression unreadable.  "It
appears the headmistress wishes to see you.  You are to report to
her office immediately."

     Ami sat frozen for a moment, wishing she could just vanish
into her seat.  The headmistress?  She had to go have an audience
with the headmistress?

     "Quickly, now," Miss Haruna added, clapping her hands
sharply.  Ami started, then gathered her books and stuffed them
into her satchel.  She was afraid for a moment that her legs
wouldn't support her, but somehow they did not buckle as she
stood.  Feeling almost lightheaded, she walked slowly to the door,
every eye in the room following her with avid interest.  Everyone
knew, of course, why the headmistress wanted to see her.  Things
had somehow actually gotten worse.

     Miss Haruna gave her to a young woman in a simple but stylish
black dress, her light green hair worn up in a sophisticated plait.  Ami
had seen her before, at assemblies, standing behind the headmistress
on the podium.  She was their headmistress's secretary, although her
name completely escaped the frazzled girl.  With a cool nod, the
woman wordlessly set off down the hallway, leaving a miserable Ami
Mizuno with no choice but to follow.

     They left the building, walking across campus towards the
ornate splendour of the administration building.  Ami's heart
dropped lower with each step she took.  She was under no illusions
about what sort of reception awaited her.  The headmistress was an
ice-queen, beautiful but cold, and all the students held her in awe.
No doubt she would demand answers from Ami about what had
happened on her campus, and where the nurse had been easily put
off by protestations of vague memory, Ami strongly suspected that
the headmistress would not be so easily mollified.

     The secretary mounted the steps ahead of Ami, her shapely
hips swaying with an effortlessly feminine rhythm beneath the
sheath of her long black skirt.  Ami felt a flash of dull resentment at
the woman's easy grace, tracing the long line of the woman's lithe
back to where the nape of her neck was visible beneath her pinned-
up green hair.  She bet herself that the secretary never tripped over
her own feet, was never mocked by other girls for being clumsy and
plain, never felt like a little gray unattractive mouse.  She probably
did everything with the same easy grace, cloaked in her beauty like
a faerie princess, never realizing how lucky she was.

     Then they were through the heavy double doors and into the
reception foyer, and Ami's resentment of the secretary's beauty and
refinement was swallowed up once more by a feeling that could not
be described as mere apprehension, but probably wasn't quite sheer
terror.

     The headmistress's personal secretary murmured something
to the young receptionist, her voice as smooth and poised as the
rest of her, then led Ami through a door and down a hall, then
through another door to an opulent room of thick, expensive
carpeting and dark, polished wood.  There was an empty desk
there, Ami noted absently, and another door, this one bearing a
gold plaque with the headmistress's name and title upon it.  The
secretary knocked lightly, then opened the door when bade to do so
and announced Ami to the woman inside.

     "Very good, Michiru," the headmistress murmured.  "Send
her in."  The secretary fixed Ami with her enigmatic green eyes, and
for a moment Ami almost thought she saw sympathy there.  But
then the moment passed, and the heavy door was shutting firmly
behind her, leaving her alone with the most feared woman on
campus.

     Ami had the impression that the large office was sumptuous
yet tastefully decorated, but the details escaped her.  All her
attention was fixed on the woman who sat behind the large,
fastidiously tidy desk in front of floor to ceiling windows.  The
headmistress fixed Ami with her gaze, motioning her closer with a
careless wave of her hand.  Trying hard to swallow, Ami came to
stand in front of the intimidating desk and its even more
intimidating mistress.

     Setsuna Meioh was a descendant of Aki Raven, and it showed.
She shared the same exotic, golden-bronze skin that fairly glowed
with its own light, stretched over lithe muscles and aristocratic bone
structure.  Her long hair was a glossy green with lowlights of black.
She wore it bound up on top of her head in a tight, complex swirl,
leaving the length of her slender neck exposed.  Long red earrings
caught the light as she moved her head slightly, and Ami  found her
throat suddenly dry as huge dark eyes drank her in from beneath
sooty lashes.

     "So," the headmistress murmured, giving Ami a slow, imperious
appraisal.  "I understand that you were found last night at the scene
of the incident."

     "Y-yes, Headmistress," Ami said, her voice nearly a
whisper.

     "You told the nurse that it was dark, that you were
frightened, and that you didn't see anything," the headmistress went
on, her cool voice carefully modulated, all coiled power and force
beneath a facade of velvety smoothness.

     "That's right," Ami rasped, unable to tear her gaze away
from the woman behind the desk.  Her legs felt weak, rubbery, and
her pulse pounded in her ears.

     "The first two, I have no trouble believing," the
headmistress said, her dark crimson eyes narrowing slightly.  "But I
believe you are being, shall we say, less than forthcoming on the
third point."

     "I ..." Ami began, her stomach knotting.

     "Silence."  The word was spoken softly, but Ami felt her
jaw snap shut in reply.  The headmistress stood, her movements
graceful and feline, then slowly moved around the desk.  At no time
did her huntress's gaze leave Ami.  "You will not lie to me, girl.
You will not gloss over the facts, you will not leave out anything
that you think is too fantastic for me to believe.  What you will do
is tell me everything you saw and heard last night regarding this
incident on my campus."

     There was a subtle but unmistakable emphasis on the word
"my", and Ami suppressed a shudder as the sophisticated woman
came to stand nearly touching her, high heels making no sound in
the deep carpet.  It was as though the woman had enfolded her in
the mere force of her personality; expensive perfume caressed
Ami's skin, which tingled with the nearness of the other woman.
The headmistress reached out one slim, manicured hand and
grasped Ami's chin.  The contact was electric, and Ami fought the
urge to gasp aloud as those fingers forced her chin back so that she
was forced to look up into the headmistress's mesmerizing eyes.

     "Tell me everything," the woman said softly, and it was not
a request.  Ami's back was forced into a slight arch by the posture
that she had been compelled to adopt, and it almost seemed as if her
nipples had hardened against her white cotton bra.  Almost.  But of
course, that was impossible, because Ami Mizuno was not the sort of
girl to be excited by this stern domination.

     Still, there was no sense resisting.  The notion of defying the
headmistress was inconceivable.  Feeling strangely lightheaded, Ami
let the words spill from her lips, held more by the headmistress's
captivating eyes than by her cool, strong fingers.  She was scarcely
aware of what she was saying, only that she dare not try to squirm
out of the truth.  She could hide nothing from this woman's gaze.

     When she had finished her tale, the words stumbled to a
clumsy halt.  Ami's breath felt labored, the air thick with the
headmistress's musky perfume, and her heart fluttered wildly in her
chest.  The headmistress didn't release her hold immediately,
continuing to study Ami's face as though searching for something.
Instinctively, Ami drew back inside herself; it was her nature not to
be noticed, not to call attention to herself.  The only thing
noteworthy about her were her excellent grades, and even there she
was careful to stay out of the spotlight.

     After a few moments, those restraining fingers slid away,
long nails almost seeming to caress the line of her jaw as they did
so.  The headmistress made a small, satisfied sound under her
breath.

     "I see," she said.  "You were wise to tell me this, but you
will tell no one else.  Do I make myself clear?"

     Ami's throat seemed to have closed up, so she merely
nodded helplessly.

     "Excellent," the headmistress murmured.  "You are
dismissed."  As the woman turned away, Ami felt as though she had
escaped the notice of a prowling tigress.  Her cheeks felt hot and
heavy, and she bowed her head as she muttered something polite,
praying she wouldn't trip and fall on her way out the door.  She
ignored the glance from the elegant secretary as she rushed past her
desk and down the hall, towards her accustomed obscurity once
more.

     It had been the first and, hopefully, the last time she'd have
to have an audience with the headmistress.  That woman certainly
lived up to her reputation; Ami felt shaky and weak in the wake of
their little talk.

     Well, there you go, she told herself sternly through the veil
of mind-numbing relief that descended on her as she escaped the
administration building.  You don't want to have to deal with that
kind of attention again, do you?  Of course you don't.  You're
meek and gutless, not like those bold girls who would have stood
there and asked the headmistress what was going on, what she
knew.  No, you aren't cut out for excitement, Ami.  So forget
about what happened last night.  It's for your own good.

     And she walked across the campus, trembling lightly, but
some rebellious part of her clung stubbornly to one image.

     A silver rose ....



                      ####



     Setsuna crossed her arms, frowning.  There was a gentle
tapping on her office door, and she bade Michiru enter.  The girl
did so, moving with the supple feminine grace that pleased Setsuna
so much.

     "You heard?" she asked.

     "Yes, Mistress," Michiru replied.

     "One of the others has overstepped herself badly, daring to
turn one of my students on my campus," Setsuna said, her voice a
velvety growl that seemed comprised of equal parts anger and
pleasure.  "That matter will have to be addressed.  I wonder who it
might have been?"

     "I would surmise Galaxia, Setsuna-sama," Michiru noted.  "Or
perhaps Mistress 9.  Black Lady's forces are dangerously depleted
with the loss of Rubeus, Diamond and Sapphire.  Nehelenia has no
resources left and has been forced underground, and Beryl has yet to
recover from the recent troubles."

     "The balance of power shifts and shifts again, in their little
secret war," Setsuna sniffed contemptuously.  "None of them
realize the true stakes."

     Michiru said nothing.  She knew some of what her mistress
alluded to, but regardless of the secrets she held even Setsuna
Meioh was not immune from attack.  If one of the other
Witchqueens had set their sights on her mistress, Michiru would
also be in the line of fire.

     "Why unleash the girl's dark heart, Mistress?" Michiru
asked quietly.  "A challenge?  Or were they seeking a witch?"

     "Any witches at Raven Academy," Setsuna purred, dark
eyes narrowing, "belong to me.  Such prizes are precious indeed."
She reached out to stroke Michiru's cheek at that, watching with a
languid smile as the girl accepted the caress, unperturbed.  Setsuna
sent a flush of power along the tendrils of magick that bound the girl
to her, and was rewarded by a sharp intake of breath and a gentle
flush of pink on the girl's cheeks and throat.  She let her nails trace
along Michiru's ear in a teasing manner, and this time Michiru's
response was more to her liking.  Breaking and training the girl had
been a true pleasure, a work of sheer artistry if she did say so
herself.

     "The true puzzle here," Setsuna continued in a husky
whisper, moving to stand directly behind her lovely witch, "is the
power that broke the spell."  She let her nails wander down the
tender nape of Michiru's neck, knowing from experience just how
to evoke the girl's need.  She moved so that their bodies nearly
touched, leaning to whisper directly into the delicate shell of
Michiru's ear.  "What do you make of it, my witch?"

     "The rose," Michiru replied, managing to keep her voice
steady despite her mistress's attentions.  "The moon.  Signs of a
Silver Witch."

     "Yes," Setsuna crooned.  "The rarest of prizes."  And the
key to her own quest, although no one knew that.  "If a Silver
Witch has appeared, I want her."

     "Of course," Michiru acknowledged.  Her mistress was
subtle yet thorough in her enchantments; if Setsuna got such a prize
in her sights, Michiru doubted that even a legendary Silver Witch
would escape.

     After all, SHE hadn't.

     "We will have to be vigilant, my witch," Setsuna breathed,
her full lips brushing lightly against Michiru's ear and evoking a tiny
shudder.  "If the Silver Witch revealed herself once, she likely will
again.  We shall be patient, and when my prey shows herself, I shall
ensnare her and make her mine."  Setsuna's hand stole around
Michiru's slim waist, fingers brushing feather-light over the sleek
material that sheathed the girl's lithe body.

     "You suspect her of being a student."  It wasn't a question;
Michiru knew her mistress well enough to pick up on that.

     "It would be doubly delicious if she were one of my girls,"
Setsuna whispered.  "But regardless, something drove her to come
here, and to break the spell on that girl.  I suspect we shall be
seeing her again, soon."  She nuzzled Michiru's throat, smiling
triumphantly as the green-haired girl's cloak of icy reserve wavered.
Michiru made a small sound in her throat, arching her back slightly.

     "We shall need all our resources," Setsuna added, and
Michiru froze.  "Go and check on my new acquisition, pet.  She
should be feeling a little more, shall we say, docile by now."  She
handed Michiru a small sliver of crystal.

     "Yes, Mistress," Michiru said, hiding her reluctance well,
although not well enough to fool the woman who had conquered
her in a duel of will and power.

     "Michiru," Setsuna said sternly, releasing the girl and
stepping away as though nothing had happened.  She hid her smirk
at the sense of Michiru's frustration; despite her subordinate status,
Michiru hated to show it when Setsuna chose to arouse her deepest
passions, only to leave them unfulfilled.  "The two of you belong to
me and will be working together from now on.  You will put aside
your personal dislike for the girl.  Is that clear?"

     "Yes, Mistress," Michiru replied, bowing.

     "Excellent," Setsuna replied briskly, moving back behind
her desk.  "You are dismissed."

     Michiru left, her unvoiced frustration hanging in the air like
perfume.  Setsuna took a moment to savor it before turning her
mind back to the matter at hand.

     Someone had exposed a girl's heart, and that someone had
certainly been a witch.  To accomplish this feat meant wielding the
sort of dark seductive power that lurked within every witch.  But to
what end?  Certainly, such an attack would have revealed if the girl
was herself a witch, but she nearly seemed to have been chosen at
random.  And once her dark heart had been unleashed, her new
mistress had set her to attack the only witness and then vanished.

     Strange.  Worrisome, as well.  Either there was a witch out
there who was too foolish to know the consequences of her actions,
or else one who simply didn't care.

     Still, that problem paled next to the gleaming jewel of
information that young Ami Mizumo had presented her.  A Silver
Witch, at long last, just as predicted.  Events were unfolding just as
she'd been told they would, and she had to be prepared for the
battle that would come.

     That witch had to be hers.  Everything depended on it.

     As she sat and pondered her next move, a frown creased her
flawless brow.  The Silver Witch had risked much, releasing a spell-
bound girl and saving Ami, then leaving both as witnesses to her
power.  Why?

     Thinking of Ami reminded her of the girl's eyes as she'd
spilled her secrets.  That girl was a meek little thing, presenting
none of the challenge that Setsuna so enjoyed in a woman.  Still,
there had been a second, only the briefest of moments really, when
she'd almost thought she sensed a flash of something behind those
wide, frightened eyes, something deeper, something more.

     But then the moment had passed.  Setsuna sighed.  Certainly,
there was nothing in a girl like that to merit her personal
attention.  Only the cream of the crop, the elite of her girls, were
deserving of such an honor.

     She wondered if one of them might be this Silver Witch.
Something told her the idea was not entirely farfetched, and
although she could not pinpoint the source of this intuitive flash,
she knew that she needed to draw the witch out again.  She would
want to gauge her prey's powers and abilities before trying to snare
her.

     If the girl was drawn to the darkness unleashed from a girl's
heart, then perhaps what Setsuna really needed was the proper bait.



                      ####



     "Well, well.  Look who it is."

     Ami cringed reflexively at the familiar voice.  She'd hoped
to get to her next class without being noticed, but not only had she
not managed that, she'd been spotted by the worst possible person.

     Ryoko Hashimoto was drop dead gorgeous.  Her hair was
black and glossy, styled expensively to fall in a thick arc to her
shoulders.  Her lips were ruby red, matching her nails.  Make-up
wasn't supposed to be worn in class, but Ryoko got away with a lot
of things.  She was a member of the student council, popular with
her fellow students and with the teachers, and was even rumored
to be in the good graces of the headmistress herself.  She ran
several clubs and had influence over a wide range of activities that
took place within the bounds of the academy's campus.

     But all that, apparently, wasn't enough for her.  Even with
all that she had going for her, Ryoko seemed to need to torment
Ami Mizuno.

     "Well, well," Ryoko sniffed, looking down the aquiline
curve of her nose at Ami in a gesture that was all too familiar.
"You don't look any the worse for wear after your little adventure,
Ami-chan."  Ami tried not to flinch at the girl's inappropriate
intimacy, knowing that Ryoko wanted her to object.

     "Th-the nurse said that ... I was fine," Ami mumbled, trying to
push past.

     "And what did the headmistress say?" Ryoko asked
haughtily.  There was a small group of girls with Ryoko, and they
had spread out to surround Ami, all managing to look bored,
amused and hostile at the same time.  Which was a pretty neat trick,
Ami thought.

     "I ... she asked about what happened, that's all," Ami
muttered, painfully aware that the headmistress had instructed her
not to speak of what had happened to anyone.

     "I should think so," Ryoko scowled.  "There's a rumor that she
was away on one of her mysterious trips again.  So, she would have
only just arrived back, and the first thing she had to deal with was
seeing your ugly face.  Such an experience must have been a terrible
disappointment for her."

     Titters greeted this pronouncement, and Ami bowed her
head, gripped by the familiar desire to vanish into the earth at her
feet.  She knew better than to hope that Ryoko and her cronies
would grow bored with her.  Her best option was to get to
someplace where there were staff, or at least a number of people.
Ryoko was cunning, and always managed to at least appear proper
in front of others.

     "I have to go," Ami muttered.  "I have a class."  Which was
a lie, but maybe if Ryoko thought Ami's absence somewhere might
be noted, she would postpone her fun.

     "You have no class, Ami-chan," Ryoko sniffed.  "That's
your problem.  One of them, anyway.  The other is that you think
you're smarter than I am.  Don't you?"

     "What do you mean?" Ami asked, briefly meeting Ryoko's
eyes.  What she saw there didn't reassure her in the least.

     "I mean," Ryoko said, her voice honey-sweet, "that you
were found with a partially stripped girl on the grounds last night,
and you expect us all to believe that you don't know what
happened.  Come now, Ami-chan.  Were you watching?  Did you
get off on it?"

     "No!" Ami blurted.

     "Oh?" Ryoko murmured silkily.  "You're so frigid, I can't
believe you'd have the guts to touch her yourself.  But maybe you
just watched, thinking that nobody would know.  Did you get some
sick little thrill out of it?  Miss Goody-Two-Shoes, so pure and
clean, secretly spying on a pervert who attacks one of her fellow
students?  I think that's just sick ..."

     "Shut up!" Ami shouted, face burning.  "That's a lie!"

     "Shut up?" Ryoko repeated, quiet menace in her voice.
"You shouldn't talk to your betters that way, Ami-chan.  Maybe
you need to be taught a lesson."

     She reached out and grabbed Ami's arm roughly, causing
the girl to gasp.  Ami knew she shouldn't have reacted and given
Ryoko the excuse she'd been looking for, but she'd been unable to
help it.  The things the other girl had said were just so vile, but
now she was in for it.  Ryoko squeezed, and Ami cried out in pain,
bringing a cruel smile to Ryoko's ruby lips.

     Then someone grabbed Ami's other arm, pulling her free
from Ryoko's grasp.  Ryoko looked as startled as Ami felt.  Nobody
dared to thwart Ryoko.  Nobody.

     Ami looked at the hand that was wrapped firmly around her
wrist, then looked up to find it belonged to the new girl from her
homeroom, the girl with the exotic name.  Silke.

     "That's too much, don't you think?" Silke asked, her quiet
voice holding just the faintest hint of menace under a layer of wry
humor.

     "You," Ryoko said as the shock wore off.  "New girl.  This
isn't your business."

     "Maybe not," Silke conceded with a slight smile.  "But I
don't much like bullies."

     "Do you really want to take her side?" Ryoko asked with a
sharp glare, moving to face the blonde.  Ami held her breath, unable
to fathom what Silke could be doing.

     "I'm not taking sides," Silke informed the other girl.  "But if
someone is molesting girls at this school, I think Mizuno here
would end up at the bottom of anyone's suspect list.  Seriously."

     Ryoko's lovely face flushed as she sensed her quarry
slipping away.  The other girls backed away from the scene slightly
as if anticipating trouble, but Ami knew that was foolish.  Ryoko
was far too canny and subtle to actually get in a fight.  She'd find
the right time and place to get back at Silke over her loss of face.

     Silke had turned to go, Ami's wrist still trapped in one
hand, when Ryoko called to her.

     "You should be careful, new girl," Ryoko said smoothly,
her expression back under control.  "It isn't smart to make enemies
on your first day."

     "Oh, I hate to put of until tomorrow," Silke replied, just
as smoothly, "what I can do today.  Ta."

     And with that, she breezed away down the path, a shocked Ami
in tow.

     Once they had rounded a bend and lost sight of Ryoko and her
friends, Silke released Ami.  Ami stared at the blonde girl,
completely at a loss.  Silke stared back, those clear blue eyes
showing only cool detachment.

     "You better learn to start standing up for yourself, Mizuno,"
Silke said simply.  "Or people like that are going to keep walking all
over you."

     And with that, the new girl turned and walked away, leaving
Ami standing there, her mouth hanging open.



                      ####



     She arrived at her dorm, unable to suppress a sly grin as she
mounted the steps to the imposing double doors that opened into
the foyer.  No wonder the upperclassmen got rooms in this
building; it would have scared the crap out of the new girls.

     It took a lot to frighten Silke, though, and a gothic mansion
doubling as student quarters wasn't going to cut it in that
department.  No, the things that gave her nightmares were much,
much worse than any old building.

     She breezed through the high-ceilinged entryway, her shoes
echoing hollowly off the cold tile, then mounted the stairs.  Her
room was on the fourth and highest floor, overlooking the lush park
that extended out towards the west wall of the sprawling academy
grounds.  The view certainly couldn't be beat, and with the dorm
currently over half-empty she had privacy as well.

     All those damned stairs were a pain in the ass, though.  An
elevator would have been a nice addition, ambiance be damned.
Silke was in excellent shape, though, her body having been honed
by a rather punishing regimen.  When she reached her room, she
wasn't even breathing hard.

     The room was spacious enough, luxurious for a mere dorm
room, the four-poster bed nearly taking up one corner.  As Silke
tossed her satchel carelessly onto a chair, a small bundle of black
fur stirred on the bed, unfolding in a feline stretch.
     "I'm back," Silke announced.  The small black cat bounded
energetically from the bed, trotting across the floor towards her.
Her body glowed as she moved, shifting and changing until it
resolved itself into the form of a beautiful girl.

     "Welcome back, Silke-sama," the girl murmured, falling to
one knee and bowing her head.  "Was your morning fruitful?"

     "Attend me, Luna, and I'll tell you about it," Silke replied.
Luna rose at that, smiling demurely as she followed Silke to the
bed.  She was quite beautiful, her glossy black hair falling in soft
tumbled waves past her waist, contrasting with her pale skin.  The
dress she wore was pale yellow and filmy, bodice clinging to her
breasts and full skirt swirling around her legs.

     Luna had looked quite different the first time she and Silke
had met.  Silke still had the faint scars on her arm as a souvenir of
that meeting.  Luna, of course, also bore reminders of that
encounter; a slim black collar was buckled snugly around her neck,
marking her as Silke's familiar, and a crescent moon was emblazoned
on her forehead.

     Silke sat on the bed while Luna knelt before her and removed her
shoes, then began massaging her feet.

     "Do you know," Silke sighed, closing her eyes under Luna's
ministrations, "that these classes are dreadfully boring?"

     "I should think so," Luna replied primly.  "You are used to
learning lessons in a much different environment, after all."

     "Well said," Silke chuckled.  "However, school isn't so
different from what I'm used to in some ways.  Even here, the
strong try to extend their dominance over those weaker, for
instance."

     "Was someone foolish enough to give you a hard time?"
Luna asked, the almost anticipatory gleam in her eyes showing the
predatory side of her feline nature.

     "Not really," Silke replied.  "But I did meet the young lady
from last night."

     "The one who nearly let herself be taken?" Luna sniffed
derisively.

     "The very same.  Her name, it turns out, is Ami Mizuno.
She seems to be a very good student, keeps to herself a lot.  Not
very popular with the class elite, though.  I had to pull her out of an
ugly situation after homeroom, since she seemed intent on just
standing there and taking it."

     "Why did you bother?" Luna asked, switching to the other
foot.  Silke stifled a groan as the kneeling girl dug her thumbs in
expertly, working out any lingering tension.

     "She's in my debt now," Silke shrugged.  "Rumors are
flying about last night, and she doesn't want to talk.  But she might
talk to me if she thinks I'm on her side."

     "Do you think she saw who turned that girl?"

     "Quite possibly," Silke mused.  "And if one girl's been
turned that way, then there could be more.  Someone who wanted
to have their way with a bevy of lovely girls couldn't have picked a
better place to indulge themselves."

     "But you don't think that's all this is, do you?" Luna asked
gravely.

     "I don't know," Silke sighed.  "It could be coincidence.  On
the other hand, someone may be looking for the same thing we are,
which means this just got a lot more dangerous."

     "Perhaps we should not have intervened," Luna said as she
worked.  "Now the witch who turned that girl knows you are here."

     "She knows nothing of the sort.  All she knows is that her
darkspell was broken.  The power of Silver has the advantage of
being rare and mysterious, after all.  And I despise witches who abuse
their power so recklessly."

     "But we are unfamiliar with this city," Luna protested, raising
her eyes to meet her mistress's gaze.  "What if that witch was no
wandering rogue?  What if she serves a Witchqueen?"

     "Gently, Luna," Silke admonished.  Luna lowered her gaze
submissively and returned to her ministrations.  "If there are any
Witchqueens in this city, they will never find me.  As always, I will be
a phantom who disappears before she can be grasped.  Have I not
always prevailed over those who were foolish enough to seek my
capture, or my destruction?"

     "Yes, Mistress," Luna admitted.  "But if other Witchqueens
have discovered that the key to finding the Phoenix Egg may be here,
they will certainly send their minions."

     "Let them, Luna.  None of them know what I know.  None of
them have what I have.  The prize will be mine, and then I will need
fear neither witch nor Witchqueen."

     "As you say, Silke-sama," Luna murmured.  "But, if I may
ask, what of the girl?  This Ami Mizuno?  She has seen your power.
Should she not be dealt with?"

     "No, my Luna," Silke crooned, closing her eyes as Luna's
strong fingers kneaded and pressed delightfully.  "You see, Ami has
escaped the clutches of a turned girl.  The witch responsible will be
very curious about that."

     "Ah," Luna breathed, her eyes brightening.  "Bait."

     "Precisely.  When the witch tries for Ami, I will know who
my opponent is.  But she will not know me, Luna.

     "Not until the moment I destroy her."



                      ####



     Setsuna Meioh's private mansion resided in one corner of
the sprawling academy grounds, surrounded by trees and carefully
manicured grounds that provided her with privacy.  Michiru knew
from first-hand experience that some of the things her mistress did
needed to be done away from prying eyes; it wouldn't do for the
students and teachers of the academy to know the truth about their
headmistress.

     Michiru took a moment to compose herself before opening
the door to the basement room where her mistress's new acquisition
was currently residing.  Michiru had taken an instant dislike to the
girl, which had only been compounded by her new comrade's recent
attempt at defiance during the trip back here.  Setsuna-sama had
been forced to punish the girl, which brought back disquieting
memories of the period after her own defeat.

     The door swung open easily.  Locks were not necessary to
contain witches, at least not those who had been Bound.  There were
other ways to chain them, and Michiru found herself looking at one
such example as she entered the sparsely furnished room.

     The new girl was curled up in the corner, shuddering
spasmodically.  Her long blonde hair hung limp, lank with sweat, long
strands pasted to her cheeks.  She was tall, taller than Michiru would
have guessed just seeing her like this, and quite strong.
Unfortunately for her, she hadn't been strong enough.

     As Michiru watched, the girl twitched, moaning helplessly.
Her hands clutched desperately at her body, plunging under her torn
dress to rub frantically at her breasts.

     Michiru knew the torment the girl was experiencing, and she
turned her attention to the cause of it.  In the middle of the floor was
a glowing circle ringed with mystic symbols, and within the circle was
another girl, her face hidden by long blonde hair.  That girl lay on her
back, barely able to struggle as she suffered a horribly carnal
ravishment.  Long slender snakes slithered over her body, pale
creatures whose whiplike bodies were topped with heads resembling
those of beautiful women.  Their long dark hair streamed behind them
as they encircled their victim, rosebud mouths inflicting erotic
torment upon swollen, throbbing buds of flesh.

     The girl writhed, and Michiru could see that she seemed to be a
twin to the new witch.  That was hardly surprising.  The figure inside
the circle was not human, but only the new witch's witchsoul.  As the
embodiment of a witch's power, the witchsoul was closely bound to
its mistress.  Of course, that meant that if the witchsoul was captured
and tormented, the witch would feel it.  Worse, she would not be able
to stop the sensations, even if they continued to the point of madness.

     Even as she watched, one of the restrictors coiled upon the
captive witchsoul's taut belly, its long tongue whipping out to
ensnare an engorged nipple.  The restrictor made gutteral sounds of
delight as its tongue slid around the nipple, engulfing it completely
before slowly pulling it into the hot velvet depths of the mystic
being's hungry mouth.  Twin cries arose from the witchsoul and the
witch, and Michiru shook herself free from the erotic spectacle.

     Michiru stepped forward, raising the crystal sliver that
Setsuna had given her.  She knelt, touching the crystal to the edge of
the circle.  The crystal chimed once, and immediately the terrible
inhuman beauties with their hungry eyes and succubus mouths ceased
their ministrations and coiled around the overwhelmed witchsoul,
forming living bonds that held the blonde form in a cruelly tight
embrace.  The circle faded, and phantom robes swirled around the
witchsoul as it floated up from the floor, drifting limply to its mistress
where it became intangible and merged with the spasm-wracked
form.

     "It's interesting," Michiru said in a cool, detached tone.  "A
human body can only take so much of anything, including pleasure.
Eventually, it will simply shut down or run out of stamina.  A
witchsoul, however, is a manifestation of magick, and can made to
experience pleasure indefinitely.  And the witch, through their bond,
experiences it as well, magickally circumventing the limits of the
body."

     The blonde stayed huddled, her breath coming in harsh gasps.
For a long time she did not try to move, and Michiru did not push
her.  Michiru remembered her own long nights of torment at the
fiendishly skilled mouths of the restrictors, how she had been driven
to the brink of madness.  It shouldn't have been possible to feel such
pleasure, to have her will battered and finally drowned by wave after
wave of unearthly bliss.  It was a devilishly clever means of keeping
recalcitrant witches in line.

     And it was not the only means of punishment in Setsuna's
repertory, either.  The girl had gotten off lucky.

     "Haruka Ten'ou,." Michiru said at last.  "Stand up."

     "Can't," the new witch whispered.

     "You can," Michiru said.  "And you will.  Unless you want to
spend the rest of the day as you spent last night."  Michiru was not
authorized to continue the punishment, but Haruka didn't know that.

     "She has work for us," Michiru continued.  "You need to get
cleaned up."

     "Just like that?"  The blonde's voice was hoarse, raspy, and
Michiru knew it was from crying out in need and frustration as desire
swelled and climaxed again and again within her body as it reacted to
her witchsoul's torment.

     "You've had time to adjust," Michiru said, her tone
businesslike.  "Our mistress has laid her Binding on you, and now
you belong to her.  You tried to run away, and found out that was
futile.  Then you tried defiance, and found out that was also futile.  I
do hope you aren't an idiot."

     She wondered idly if the new girl would try to hurt her.  She
would recover her strength much more quickly than if she herself had
been the subject of the restrictor's attentions, a fact that had never
made sense to Michiru but was nonetheless true.  Apparently all the
fight had gone out of this one, though, at least, for now.  As the girl
stirred and struggled to rise, Michiru stepped back, away from the
heady smells of arousal.  She still felt some residue of need from what
her mistress had done to her back in the office, and didn't need to be
reminded of how her own needs had been neglected since Setsuna
had caught the scent of this new witch.

     "How can you ...?"  The blonde coughed weakly.  "How can
you just accept this?"

     "Because there is no alternative," Michiru answered curtly.  "Now
come.  She does not like to be kept waiting."

     The blonde closed her eyes, then opened them and combed her
long blonde hair back clumsily with her fingers.  Finally, Haruka got
to her feet and stood, swaying slightly.  Michiru nodded once, as if
she'd expected no less.

     "Come," she said, and walked out of the room.

     Haruka moved slowly, but she managed to follow Michiru up
from the basement level to the main floor.  Michiru took her charge
to the wing that the two would now share, and showed her to the
large, sumptuous bathroom.

     "That door leads to a spare room," Michiru informed the
sullen blonde.  "Setsuna-sama keeps a supply of spare clothing there.
You should be able to find something suitable to wear.  Once you
are dressed, come to the kitchen.  You will need to eat something
to regain your strength."

     "Hey," the blonde said as Michiru turned to go.  "Michiru-
san, right?"

     "Yes," Michiru said reluctantly.  She would not have
allowed this much familiarity if her mistress had not commanded it.

     "Are you always such an icy bitch?"  The blonde was giving
her as hard a stare as she could manage.

     "I am what my mistress has made me," Michiru told her
with a trace of hauteur.  "As you will be.  It is our destiny as
witches to serve a Witchqueen."

     With that, she left the girl to fend for herself.  There was no
need to explain the facts of her new life in detail, after all.  She
would learn.

     As Michiru had.



                      ####



     Haruka staggered into the cool, tiled sanctuary of the
bathroom, shutting the door behind her with more force than
necessary.  She closed her eyes, feeling despair well up inside her,
and she forced it back down with all the strength she could muster.

     Her body ached and throbbed, and she nearly let herself collapse
in a heap like a pile of rags.  The only thing that stopped her was the
knowledge that, if she let go, she would be unable to get back up,
and she'd end up lying on this cold floor and shaking like a leaf.  That
stuck-up little Michiru would no doubt love that, and Setsuna would
probably show up just to rub in Haruka's lack of control.

     Rage boiled up inside her in that moment.  Control.  Other people
had been controlling her for her entire life, it seemed.  First her
mother, making her into a proper lady, telling her how to dress, what
to study, who to associate with.  Then it had been her teachers, her
counsellors, every authority figure in her life.  They all wanted to
tell her how to act, what to be.

     And now, just when she'd thought she had finally broken
free and severed all ties with her past, a cool, captivating beauty
had come into her life.  Setsuna's attention had intrigued her at
first, but the woman had had ulterior motives.  Once she'd
confirmed that Haruka had these witch powers, powers she herself
had been unaware of, Setsuna had struck like a venomous cobra.
Haruka had found herself in a fight with new and unfamiliar abilities
against a canny, experienced foe.  And defeat had meant humiliation,
that degrading Ceremony of Binding, and now servitude.

     She staggered to the vanity, which appeared to be made of
real marble.  This Setsuna really liked the finer things in life, it
seemed.  Haruka glanced up at the mirror, grimacing at the sight
that greeted her.  She looked wan, beaten.  Was this really how it
was going to be?  Did she really have no say in her life, no will of
her own?

     Her eyes fell on a straight razor that lay neatly folded with some
other toiletries.  Her heart began to pound, her sexual fatigue
momentarily drowned by something larger.  With shaky hand she
picked up the razor and unfolded it, staring rapt at its
lethal gleaming length.  She suspected it had been left here as a test,
or perhaps an object lesson.  Was Setsuna sending her a message?

     Haruka slowly brought the razor near her wrist, but as it
approached she felt a strange pressure in her mind, clouding her
thoughts.  The razor fell with a clatter from a suddenly nerveless hand
into the sink, and she choked back a sob.  Even this release was
denied to her.  This Binding was every bit as powerful and pervasive
as Setsuna had claimed.

     Haruka was a witch, and she was now bound to serve her
Witchqueen.  What she wanted was, apparently, immaterial.

     Something stirred in her chest, and she raised her eyes to
meet those of her reflection once more.  No.  That burning need was
back, raking fire along her nerve-endings, despite the night of will-
sapping pleasure that she'd been forced to endure.  How could her
body still need release?

     She knew that she would not be able to resist that call much
longer.  Perhaps those horrible things that bound her other self were
active once more, or perhaps she simply needed to achieve release at
least once of her own volition.  Well, then, she would, but she would
wait as long as possible, desiring to sate herself on her own terms.
Perhaps she was bound to serve, but there were bound to be limits to
the control Setsuna had over her.  Haruka needed to know those
limits.  That quest might be the only thing which would allow her to
maintain her sanity.

     She picked up the straight razor again, fascinated by the
way the light gleamed along its edge.  For so long, Haruka had
been denied the right to live as she wanted.  If she had to be a
witch, she'd be a witch.  But damned if she'd be as meek and
subservient as Michiru.

     Haruka looked at her bedraggled reflection, then back to the
razor, and finally came to a decision.



                      ####



     The stares and titters followed Ami from class to class, but
at least she'd managed to avoid Ryoko and her minions for the rest
of the morning.  The thought of it still made her flush.  She knew
that Ryoko didn't really suspect her of anything; she had just been
taking advantage of the situation to embarrass Ami.

     Her thoughts turned then to the new student.  Ami was
quite unused to anyone coming to her aid, even in such an off-
handed way as Silke had.  The girl was a strange one, all right.  In
fact, something about her nagged at Ami like a half-forgotten
dream, eluding her grasp in the light of day.  Just a whisper of a
sensation that had trembled deep within when Silke had looked into
her eyes, a shadow of a glimmer of deja vu.  And it was probably
nothing, really.

     But few people engaged Ami Mizuno's interest, yet Silke
had managed to.  Ami wasn't quite certain when she'd decided to
check up on the new girl, but she was already formulating a plan for
getting access to the records in the academy's computer.  It might
be interesting to see where Silke had been, and what she'd been up
to.

     Ami turned down one path, feeling her chest tighten.  Stop
it, she told herself sternly.  It's the middle of the day.  So what if
this path takes you right past where it happened?  Are you really
going to walk all the way around the gym just to get to the library,
when this is the most direct route?  Are you really such a coward?

     Somehow, it seemed important to her not to give in to her
fear, even though nobody would have known.  For some reason,
she remembered Silke's cool crystal blue eyes measuring her, heard
in her mind the girl's quiet, confident voice telling her that if she
didn't start standing up for herself she was going to keep on being a
doormat.

     There was no earthly reason for her to care what Silke
Tsukino thought.  After all, she was probably just another rich
beauty with too much attitude for her own good.  Still, Ami found
herself walking down the path, steadfastly ignoring the fact that
there were still enough leaves on the trees to shelter her from the
view of any nearby buildings.  In fact, the way the path curved,
there were several places that were almost totally secluded.

     The place where she'd witnessed the attack was one such,
and as she drew near it her heart stuttered as she thought she saw
someone there.  She stopped and took a breath, but the form
remained crouched on the grass, and Ami realized that there really
was someone there.  The girl was running her hand over the grass in
roughly the spot where the whip-wielding leather girl had fallen after
being ravished by the silver rose.  Something about the motion made
Ami wonder if the girl was doing magick.

     Then she spotted Ami and stood, moving with breathtakingly
sensual grace.  Recognition didn't calm Ami's racing pulse in the
least; there was no mistaking that flowing mane of heavy sable silk,
those dark lidded eyes, that slightly sulky, lush mouth.  She even
made her uniform look as if it had been made just for her.

     Rei Hino.

     She was the closest thing Ryoko had to a rival.  In fact, she
might have been Ryoko's nemesis if she'd sought out the positions
that Ryoko craved, but Rei seemed to disdain such pursuits as
beneath her.  Like Ryoko, Rei enjoyed the adoration of much of the
student body, and rumors even circulated that some members of
the faculty had been bewitched by her.

     Ami didn't know about that, but besotted girls were always
hanging around the captivating Rei Hino with notes, presents and
even flowers as offerings.  Rei took it all in stride as far as Ami
could tell, treating the attention as her due.  She didn't go out of her
way to make Ami's life miserable, but that was probably because
meek little Ami Mizuno stayed beneath her regal notice.

     Until now.

     Ami swallowed nervously as Rei started walking towards
her.  Walking didn't do the motion justice; it was a slow, sensual
strut, speaking of barely restrained heat in the way her thighs
moved against her skirt, of dark promise in the gentle sway of her
hips, of sweet abandon in the dark gleam of her eyes.

     Ami watched, half in awe and half appalled, wondering how
someone learned to walk like that.

     "You're the one, aren't you?" Rei asked as she drew near.
The subtle scent of her expensive perfume enveloped Ami as Rei
pushed her windblown hair back out of her face with one casually
imperious sweep of her slim hand.

     "I ... pardon me?" Ami mumbled, trying to shake off the effects
of the other girl's entrancing presence.

     "You were here last night," Rei went on, the corners of her
mouth curved into a slightly amused smile as her eyes held
Ami's, drawing her into their depths.  "Ami Mizuno, wasn't it?"
Her voice was as spellbinding as the rest of her.

     "That's right," Ami said, shuffling her feet.  Just standing
next to Rei made her feel clumsy, even dowdier than usual.

     "I expect you're tired of being asked about last night," Rei
murmured.  Ami noticed that Rei didn't bother to introduce herself;
she naturally assumed that Ami would know who she was.  Just
because she was right didn't make Ami any less irritated.

     "Well, yes," Ami admitted, glancing at Rei, then away.

     "It's funny," Rei said, casting a glance over her shoulder.
"Himitsu-san doesn't seem to remember a thing about what
happened."

     "Who?" Ami asked blankly.

     "The girl who was attacked," Rei said, that faint gleam of
superior amusement dancing in her eyes.  Ami flushed; she'd never
heard the girl's name, or had heard and forgotten.  But she should
have deduced who Rei had been talking about, and felt stupid for
having made such a slip.

     "Although attacked is such a vulgar term," Rei went on.
"After all, there was no sign of physical injury at all.  If her clothes
hadn't been torn, she might have been the victim of nothing more
than a fainting spell.  As you apparently were."

     Again those dark eyes turned the full force of their gaze
upon her, and Ami blurted out the first thing that came to her mind.

     "Were you doing a divination over there?" she asked
abruptly.  Rei wore the uniform of the academy's Faculty of Magick,
fitted blazer hugging her curves like a lover, and Ami recalled that
the beauty's specialty was divination.  She even served as a priestess
at a local temple, or so rumor had it.

     "Something like that," Rei replied.  If she was perturbed by
the question, she didn't show it.

     "So you think magick was involved," Ami said, wondering what
the girl might know.

     "Oh," Rei said with a slow smile, "I know it was.  I can feel
the traces of it."

     "But, but, you mean you suspect someone in your faculty?" Ami
stammered.

     "Hardly," Rei chuckled, a low throaty sound.  "This was in a
whole different league from the types of magick taught here.
Something very strange happened out here last night.  I want to
know what it was."  This last was delivered with a lazy, lidded gaze
at Ami.

     "The school won't be pleased if they find you poking into
this," Ami said, wanting for some reason to somehow pierce the
girl's poise.

     "Are you afraid of getting in trouble if you talk to me,
Mizuno-san?" Rei asked, fixing Ami with eyes of dark violet.  Ami
blushed.  Her name sounded somehow exotic coming from Rei's
mouth, those lush lips curving with disturbing intimacy over each
syllable.

     "I ... there's nothing to tell!" she blurted.  "And you
shouldn't go ignoring the rules, either, Hino-san.  The school  is
looking into this.  Even if I knew something, you know they
wouldn't let me talk about it!"

     "Oh, I never have trouble finding things out," Rei murmured,
completely unfazed by Ami's subtle rebuke.  "I'm the sort of girl
that people always want to do things for."  The raven-haired beauty
took a step forward, placing herself well within Ami's personal
space, and placed her hand lightly on Ami's shoulder.  Ami blinked,
wanting to pull away but aware that she was alone here, and if Rei
was insulted she might decide to be more direct with her method of
questioning.  She settled for gently disengaging Rei's hand from her
shoulder while looking pointedly at her watch.

     "I really have to get to the library," she told Rei primly, hoping her
nervousness didn't show.

     "Really?  What a pity," Rei said, still with that subtly haughty
smile playing around her lips.  "But we'll talk more of this later,
Mizuno-san."

     "Why, Hino-san?" Ami asked, inwardly cursing herself for
being too cowardly to confront Rei directly.  "I've told you all I
remember."

     "Indeed?" Rei asked, arching one perfect brow.  Her cool
fingers brushed Ami's thigh just below the hem of her skirt, startling
Ami so badly that she jumped back.

     "Hino-san!  What ...?"

     "That welt on your leg," Rei breathed, her gaze intent.
"Where did you get it?"

     "I ... that is ... I bumped ... into something."  Ami's heart was
still racing, and she stood warily, wondering what the girl might do
next.  Really!  Grabbing someone's leg like that!

     "Strange," Rei remarked, her gaze boring into Ami.  "I myself
am not unfamiliar with such marks.  If you hadn't just told me
otherwise, I would swear it was made by a whip."

     Ami's pulse, which had just been starting to settle, spiked
again.  She gaped, unable to think of a single thing to say.  Rei
saved her the trouble by just smiling, and beginning to walk by.
Just as she came even with Ami, though, she paused.

     "I'll be seeing you soon," the alluring girl promised.  "Ami
Mizuno."

     Then she was gone, just the faint scent of her perfume
hanging in the sun-warmed air.  It took Ami a few moments to
regain some semblance of equilibrium.

     Familiar with such marks?  Why would she be familiar with
such marks?  What a depraved and wicked thing to say!  Perhaps
the rumors about that girl were true after all.

     Ami ducked her head, clutching her satchel tightly against
her chest, trying to ignore the heavy heat that pulsed in her cheeks.

     "No, you won't," she whispered under her breath.  Of course,
Rei was long gone, but she felt better for having managed a little
defiance.

     Well, a little better, anyway.



                      ####



     Silke sat back against the trunk of the tree, eyes narrowed
thoughtfully.  Her vantage point had given her a perfect view of
what had just happened, although she wished that she could have
heard the conversation.

     "Well, our Ami Mizuno certainly is popular," the small
black cat perched on her shoulder sniffed.

     "Indeed," Silke agreed.  "But at least one person is going to
be very interested in her.  Whoever turned that girl last night didn't
stick around to see the end of the festivities."

     "Who would think that a girl whose dark heart had been
unleashed would be unable to handle that little mouse?" Luna
asked.

     "But now," Silke mused as she watched a vexed Ami shuffle
off towards the library, "the guilty party knows that the spell was
broken.  Besides the victim, who is under observation, the only
possible witness is our Ami."

     "Do you think that girl we just saw is the one?" Luna asked, her
claws digging into Silke's shoulder slightly as she shifted position.

     "Could be," Silke replied.  "She has power, I could tell that
from here.  More, perhaps,  than you'd get being a student of the
Faculty of Magick.  And she was very interested in the spot where I
broke the spell.  If she is the one, she'll want to find out what Ami
knows."

     "So, we watch Ami?" Luna asked.

     "You keep an eye on Ami," Silke told her familiar.  "I'm
going to see what I can find out about that other girl.  It would be
useful to know what we might be up against."  She set Luna gently
on the branch, then leapt nimbly to the ground.  She took a few
steps and paused to look back, but Luna was nowhere to be seen,
only the gold-tinged leaves enjoying their final autumn splendour.

     Smiling to herself, she turned and set of in the direction the
mysterious girl had taken.

     Just when she was beginning to think she'd lost the girl,
Silke spotted her exiting the infirmary.  There could have been any
number of reasons for the girl to have visited that building, but
somehow Silke was betting on it having something to do with the
previous night's attack.

     Lurking near the corner of the building, Silke watched as an
underclassman approached the dark-haired enchantress, something
clutched in her hands.  It was hardly necessary to be able to hear
what was being said; the scene that played out spoke plainly to
anyone watching.

     The younger girl looked to be about fourteen and was
dressed in the fuku-style uniform of the junior grades, her chestnut
hair tied in two pert ponytails.  She approached the older girl
somewhat tentatively, her eyes lowered demurely as she spoke.
The older girl replied, and the younger said something else, a
hesitant smile on her face as she raised her hands to offer the cloth-
wrapped package she held.

     The older girl made a reply as she gazed down into the
underclassman's eyes, and a blush crept across the younger girl's
cheeks.  She appeared to be held rapt by the older girl's dark eyes,
starting slightly as the seductive beauty reached up to take the
proffered package.  Silke noticed how the older girl's hands
brushed over her admirer's, lingering there longer than necessary.
The blush on the younger girl's face deepened and spread, and she
might have stood there indefinitely had the object of her crush not
leaned close and murmured something.  The younger girl's face lit
up, and her reply was enthusiastic.  With that, she turned and
dashed off, elation plain in every line of her petite body.

     Silke watched her go, then stepped around the corner of the
building.  The object of her interest was walking her way, and Silke
decided it was time to take the initiative.  She leaned casually
against the corner of the building, making no effort to conceal her
interest as the girl came closer.  She was certain the girl was aware
of her, but she gave no sign of it until she was only a few feet away.

     "Good afternoon," the girl greeted her.

     "Hello," Silke replied.  Up close, the girl was even more
stunning, all pale skin and bottomless eyes and lush, glossy hair of
purest jet.  Despite her beauty, though, there was something about
her that set Silke's nerves on edge.  Or maybe because of her beauty;
those eyes, all that hair, that faintly amused superiority, all these
things called to mind another woman, one Silke despised.

     And feared.  Silke detested that fear, and resented being
reminded of it.  Perhaps that was why she found herself wanting to
bring the girl down a notch.

     "So you're the new girl," the other girl said.

     "Silke Tsukino," Silke said with a slight nod of her head.

     "Rei Hino," the other replied smoothly.  "I've been wanting
to meet you."

     "If it's to offer me a place in your fan club," Silke said
shortly, glancing at the small bundle in Rei's hand, "I'll pass."

     "Indeed?" Rei said, raising her eyebrow.  Something seemed
to flicker in those darkling eyes for the briefest of moments, then
they were placid pools of violet-tinged obsidian once more.  "Is that
resentment, Tsukino-san?"

     "You get off on being worshipped, I suppose?"

     "I accept adoration as my due," Rei admitted with a graceful
bow of her head, eyes lidded.  "If there are those who wish to
worship at the altar of beauty, who am I to turn them away?"

     "How very magnanimous of you," Silke sniffed.  "And what did
your adoring public bring you?"

     "Cookies," Rei replied.  The girl seemed amused by Silke's taunts,
which only served to irritate the other girl.

     "That's nice," Silke said insincerely.  "So what brings you to
the infirmary, anyway?"

     "I was visiting someone," Rei said, her eyes narrowing ever
so slightly.  "A perfectly innocuous reason, yes?"

     "Another member of your fan club?"  Silke knew she was
pushing, but she couldn't help herself.

     "That is none of your concern," Rei replied softly.  "I wonder
what does concern you?  Rumors, perhaps?  By now I'm certain
you've heard about what happened last night."

     "Nobody seems to know for sure what happened," Silke
shrugged.  "Except that a girl was found half naked.  I haven't seen
the police around, though."

     "You won't, either," Rei told her, tossing her hair over her
shoulder in a way that seemed intended to draw attention, and did.
Silke had to admit the girl was good.  "Things get handled internally
around here.  The academy doesn't like interference, and they have
the influence to back that up."

     "And you don't think that's strange?" Silke demanded.

     "Many things here are strange," Rei said with an enigmatic smile.
"That goes hand in hand with the academy's history.  But this
particular incident, Tsukino-san, is very unusual."

     "Why's that?" Silke asked, watching the girl closely.

     "I believe magick was used against the girl, powerful magick.
And yet she wasn't visibly harmed at all, from what I hear."

     "Why do you think it was magick?" Silke pressed.  "Sounds
like the work of a pervert to me."  Unless you actually know what
was done to her, Silke thought.  Unless you were there.

     "I have my reasons," Rei said, dark eyes hiding her thoughts from
the world with effortless ease.  "You do seem awfully interested in
this matter, Tsukino-san."

     "As do you, Hino-san," Silke returned.  "Didn't I see you
talking to Ami Mizuno earlier?  Were you asking her about last
night as well?"

     "You've been a busy little beaver on your first day, haven't
you, Tsukino-san?" Rei asked, those beguiling eyes narrowing.  For
the first time it seemed that Silke had rattled her as a faint pink flush
spread over her high, sculpted cheekbones.  "It nearly seems as
though you are accusing me of something."

     "Just making an observation," Silke said breezily. "You
seem to be overreacting, though.  Is there some reason for that, I
wonder?"

     "I have an interest in magick, that's all," Rei replied, those dark
violet eyes flashing dangerously.  "And in the girls who attend this
academy.  That is not unusual.  As an upperclassman, I have a duty to
use my power to protect Raven Academy and its students."

     "Still, you should be careful about sticking your nose into
something like this," Silke told the girl, pushing off the wall.  "If
powerful magick really is involved, you could get hurt.  Or end up
like that girl last night."

     "I can take care of myself," Rei informed her haughtily, eyes
blazing.  "And for the record, Tsukino-san, you are most certainly not
one to be lecturing on the perils of sticking one's nose where it
doesn't belong.  Personally, I do not enjoy having people spy on me."

     "Spy?" Silke said as innocently as she could manage.  "I'm
certain I don't know what you're talking about."

     "A word of advice, Tsukino-san," Rei said softly.  "This is
not a game.  Your tough girl act might have gotten you through at
your last school, but Raven Academy is in a class by itself.  Be
careful not to get in over your head."

     Hey!" Silke called as Rei began to walk away.  "I can take
care of myself, too!"

     "Well, I suspect we shall see about that," Rei said over her
shoulder.  "Be careful after dark, Tsukino-san.  New girls don't
always make the cut here."

     Silke's anger simmered as she watched Rei disappear, her
hair flowing in the wind like a cloak of heavy silk.  That stuck up
bitch!  Who did she think she was, anyway?  Silke had survived
alone in Darkside, had endured trials that some snobby rich
girl couldn't imagine, had even tamed her power when it had
emerged without any training or resources other than her own will.

     Silke stomped away, trying to reign in her temper.  It was
unlike her to let her emotions get the better of her so easily; she'd
let Rei Hino get under her skin, and that was bad.  Worse, it was
dangerous.  If Rei really had been behind the turning of that girl,
she'd be frantic to find out who possessed the power to break her
magick.  Sooner or later they would clash, and Silke would need to
keep her wits about her.  She knew all too well what happened
when you let your opponent get to you in a duel.

     "Snotty little bitch," Silke muttered under her breath.

     Silke tried to concentrate on her course of action, but for
some reason she couldn't get Rei out of her thoughts.  Finally she
decided to locate Luna and see if she'd had better luck.

     After all, Ami couldn't be nearly as much trouble as Rei.



                      ####




     Luna slunk along the tree branch, finally spotting an open
window.  She was lucky the days were still warm enough that
someone had wanted a breath of fresh air.  Moving to a point
opposite her goal, she leapt nimbly to the wide stone ledge and
darted inside the library.

     Her arrival was shielded by the looming shelves of books
which reached from floor to ceiling.  Smaller, lighter shelves were
arranged in the open space near the front, where study carrels were
located.  Luna sprang, getting purchase on a shelf and catapulting
herself neatly to the top of one of the shelves, where she proceeded
to creep towards the front of the room.  She hoped Ami was still
there, since she'd gone to all this trouble.

     Luna wished Silke had let her follow the other girl.  This
Ami was boring, a meek, timid little thing.  Luna liked strong girls,
forceful and dynamic.  A girl like Ami couldn't possibly hold her
interest.

     But Ami seemed to be their only lead.  The culprit
responsible for turning that girl the previous night would certainly
try to find out what Ami knew, sooner or later.  And anyway, Silke
had ordered her to watch the girl, and Silke did not tolerate
disobedience.

     The library was quiet, but Luna could make out voices
ahead.  Stealthily, she made her way to the end of the shelf, but she
still couldn't see what was happening.  Sizing up the scene, she
decided to risk getting closer.  A lightning fast jump put her on top
of one of the smaller shelves, and she only had to move along it a
short distance before she could see what was going on.

     Luna stared down at the scene impassively.  Ami was
crouched down, staring at the floor as she collected scattered
papers while a small group of girls stood in a semi-circle around
her, tittering.  Something about the tableau evoked memories of
Darkside for Luna; the strong victimizing the weak, taking cruel
pleasure in their power.  She accepted such things as natural, of
course.  She'd been witness to much while wandering Darkside
in the days before Silke had tamed her and bonded her into service
as a familiar.  She had no pity for those who could not or would not
fight back.

     She suspected these girls felt the same about Ami.  Of
course, they fancied themselves predators, but not a one of them
would have lasted a day in Darkside before becoming
something's pet.  Or something's dinner.

     Luna settled down, hoping idly that this would prove at
least moderately interesting.

     "So clumsy," one of the girls mocked as Ami pulled her
scattered papers together.  "Too bad brains weren't grace, eh,
girls?"

     "Or looks," one of the others snickered.  An arrogantly
lovely girl with shoulder length dark hair moved to stand over
Ami's crouched form.  Luna was well-attuned to the subtle patterns
of dominance.  She saw the way the others held their bodies, saw
the expressions in their eyes.  This one was the leader, the alpha.

     "Is that what happened last night?" the alpha asked, her
sweet tone tinged with vicious condescension.  "Did Ami-chan trip,
rip off that girl's blouse, then knock herself out?  Yes," the girl
mused to the sounds of laughter, "I can see that happening."

     Ami's face was red, but she ignored the gibes, standing with
her papers clutched tightly in her hand.  Nobody else was around,
so Ami seemed to be trying to react as little as possible.  Perhaps
she thought the other girls would become bored with her and leave.
Luna could have told her different.  Luna was an old campaigner
when it came to toying with prey, and she could smell it.  These
girls wouldn't be satisfied with mere passiveness.  They wanted
abject submission, perhaps even humiliation.  Ami was weak; her
only choice was to give them what they wanted.

     Boring.  Luna flicked one ear, eyes lidded.  The other one
definitely would have been more interesting.

     "So?" the alpha pressed as Ami stood, moving to block the
smaller girl's path.  "Is that how it was?"

     "I told you," Ami muttered, her voice barely audible.  "I
don't remember."

     "I don't remember," the alpha repeated incredulously,
shaking her head.  "Maybe if you didn't read so many books, you'd
have more room in that ugly head of yours for remembering things.
Do you think that's the case, Ami-chan?"  Ami started to turn
away, her gaze still directed meekly at the floor, and suddenly the
alpha's face was suffused with rage.

     "Don't ignore me!" she snapped, shoving Ami roughly.
Caught off guard, Ami stumbled sideways, her papers exploding
from her grasp as her arms flailed wildly.  Unable to catch her
balance, she fell heavily against the very shelf that Luna was
perched on.

     Luna realized in a split second that she had made a mistake
by relaxing and taking things for granted.  Her reflexes nearly saved
her, but as the shelf rocked back her claws skidded on the polished
wood and she found herself falling.  Naturally she landed on her
feet, but before she could scamper to safety something heavy
landed on her, stunning her momentarily.

     "Well, look at this," a voice came from out of the star-filled
darkness.  "The library is just full of flea-ridden strays today."  Luna
shook her head, her vision clearing just in time to see the alpha
reaching for her, an unpleasant expression on her lovely face.  Just
before the girl's hands reached her, though, she felt herself lifted
into the air, ending up clutched to someone's breast.

     "Don't," a voice said softly.  Luna blinked, realizing that both
the voice and the breast belonged to Ami.

     "Oh, this is too perfect," the alpha sneered.  "Ami-chan
finally made a friend.  Maybe she'll move up to dogs, then monkeys,
and maybe even real people one day."  Derisive laughter greeted
that, and Luna watched as the girl moved to stare down at them,
lips pursed thoughtfully.

     "Introduce me to your new best friend, Ami-chan," the
alpha said, and whatever humor there had been in her eyes was
gone now, replaced by something dark and ugly.  Luna knew that
look; there was going to be trouble.

     "She didn't do anything to you," Ami replied.  "Leave her
alone."  Luna felt the same surprise that showed on the faces of the
five girls clustered around them.  There was something in Ami's
voice that hadn't been there before, something not quite open
defiance but definitely firmer, more certain.  Ami hadn't stood up to
these girls to protect herself; was she really going to risk their wrath
to protect a cat?

     "What did you say?" the lovely pack leader asked finally,
disbelief warring with anger on her face.

     "She's not hurting anyone," Ami said, her arms tightening
around Luna.

     "I'll decide that for myself," the alpha replied, her dark
brown eyes narrowing.  "In fact, I'm sure that there's a rule against
animals in the library.  We should get this one out as soon as
possible.  I guess it's out the window for kitty."

     "No," Ami whispered.  Luna tensed.  She'd already been
careless enough to get spotted; transforming was out of the
question.  Silke would skin her alive if she did that.  But this girl
was seriously intent on causing someone pain, and Luna was in her
sights now.

     "No?" the alpha repeated.  "You don't say no to me, you
prissy little bitch.  Not unless you want to go out the window with
her."  The alpha began to reach down.  Luna, pressed against Ami's
chest, could feel the girl's heart racing.

     "Don't," Ami breathed.  "Don't hurt her."

     "Here, kitty kitty," the alpha crooned, ignoring Ami's
protest.

     "Don't!" Ami cried, raising one arm.  The alpha batted it
aside contemptuously and made a grab for Luna.

     Ami shrieked.

     And then it happened.

     Luna felt it, a sharp sudden spike of magick, brief,
unfocussed, and wild.  It seemed to shoot through her body like a
cold, fierce wind, and then there was a sharp crack and several
startled cries.

     One of the overhead sprinkler pipes had burst a seal
somehow, and water was spraying out over the girls.  They all
reacted instinctively, jumping away from the sudden deluge, and
Ami took advantage of the confusion to scramble to her feet and
start running.

     "Hey!  She's getting away!" one of the girls shouted.  Luna
heard scuffling, but couldn't see much as she was still clasped
tightly to Ami's chest.  The girl turned out to be a fast runner, which
didn't surprise Luna.  If she wasn't a fighter, it was probably very
helpful to be able to run away quickly.

     Ami wove through the stacks, dashing down first one
narrow, book-lined aisle, then another.  Finally, she reached a
stairwell and ducked inside, dashing up three flights before exiting
into a dimly lit hall.  She ran purposefully, and Luna got the
impression that Ami was very familiar with the building's layout.

     That fact appeared to save them.  Luna heard footsteps
echoing in the stairwell, but they sounded confused, disorganized,
and Ami moved with confidence now, ducking into an unlocked
room.  She moved to the back, past tables covered with unsorted
books, and sat down in the space between a battered black file
cabinet and the wall.  The space was just large enough for her to sit
comfortably, and Luna understood.  Everything that was hunted
needed a bolt hole to run to.

     "Don't worry," Ami whispered to her.  "I won't let them
hurt you.  We'll be safe here."  Despite their run, Ami's barely
seemed winded.  Luna braced her paws against the girl's chest as
Ami relaxed her grip, staring up into the girl's blue eyes.  Ami
smiled down at her.

     "We sure are lucky that pipe burst, aren't we?" she asked.
Luna doubted luck had anything to do with it.  She was a creature
of Darkside, and she knew magick.  Somehow, Ami had
caused that pipe to rupture, yet she'd seemingly done it almost
subconsciously.  Luna studied the girl intently, trying to get some
sense of magick from her, but she felt nothing.  Either the girl was
shielding her power very effectively, or it was buried very deeply.

     Deeply enough, perhaps, that the girl was totally unaware of
her own talents?

     "My, what a serious cat you are," Ami said softly, reaching
down to tickle under Luna's chin.  "And very pretty, too.  Did
those cruel girls frighten you?  Don't worry, I won't let them hurt
you."  Luna's ears flicked back and she allowed Ami to scratch her.
Whatever Ami's faults, she had a natural talent for ear and chin
scratching, at least in Luna's opinion.  Soon a rumbling purr started
up in her throat, and Ami giggled, a girlish sound at odds with the girl
Luna'd seen up until then.

     There appeared to be more to this girl than met the eye, but
Luna couldn't forget why she'd been watching Ami in the first
place.  Whoever had been responsible for turning that girl the
previous evening might very well come after Ami, and Silke needed
to know just what the situation was.  She couldn't concentrate on
accomplishing their goal here until she knew what they were up
against.

     Which meant that Ami was bait.

     Too bad, really.  She gave great tummy rub, too.



XX


Author's note's on part one:

     As the disclaimer notes, this story contains dark, lemon-rated
material, and future chapters will contain even more.  So far the sex is
all of the yuri (f/f) variety, since almost all the characters are girls.
More of the Sailor Moon characters are scheduled to show up in this
dark, twisted little tale, and not only senshi, but bad guys too, even
characters like Mistress 9 and Dark Lady who originally were senshi.
How?  Well, it is an alternate universe, but there actually is a reason
buried somewhere beneath all this weirdness.  It just may take a while
to dig out.  Will people suspend disbelief and read the story anyway?
I can't say, but I can say it has been fun to write.

     Characters from other series will be showing up as well,
mostly in the background.  I'll give credit for them in the author's
notes for each part.  Other than that, hope you had fun with this part.
If you did, feel free to let me know.

Eric S. Buchanan (eric_buchanan@hotmail.com)
December 31, 2002






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