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The Blackmail of Souls - Book One	By : MoonWingPamela Category: +S to Z > Saint Seiya Views: 4057 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Saint Seiya, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
*************************************************************

Chapter Two:

BONE-EATER

The
small black helicopter hovered above the frozen Siberian earth like a bloated
insect, noisily churning up loose snow into a white powder haze.

"Shit!
I can't see a fucking thing!
Altitude, Ivan!"

As he nosed the chopper upward, Sergey
Telekhov glanced angrily at his passenger, grumbling under his breath "Pososi
moyu konfetku! My name is not Ivan,
zalupa!" His foreign customers
often treated him with little respect, and he hated it. Unfortunately, he needed the money
desperately, and he was the only pilot willing to venture into the forbidden
wasteland.

In less than two months, the government had
quietly and forcibly evacuated every man, woman and child from an enormous area
that stretched from Penzhina Bay to Uelen to Tiksi, dubbed the Siberian
Triangle by international tabloids.
Expeditions into the desolate place had been completely outlawed, but
for Sergey, it had turned into a golden opportunity. While the military routinely monitored the
area, the pilot had learned to navigate undetected through pockets of blind
spots. For that reason, he could charge
ten times his normal rate, and since the government had declared the vast empty
region completely off-limits, he really had no choice. Sergey briefly studied the man strapped into
the seat on his right, his only customer in a month. Something uncomfortably cold and disturbing
glittered behind the man's brilliant green-gold eyes. The pilot shivered as his thoughts drifted
back four weeks ago to their first meeting in Magadan, Sergey�s home before the
evacuation.

He
had introduced himself as Professor Rexford Newcomb, an Australian
geophysicist. Reports of unusual seismic
activity in the Triangle had attracted him to the region, and although several
of his peers and colleagues had vanished without a trace, along with
well-intentioned search parties and military personnel, he was quite anxious to
study the inexplicable phenomenon first-hand.
The local inhabitants had attributed the disappearances to a mythical
creature known as the �Ice Demon."
Sergey generally scoffed at the fairy tales, yet he could not ignore the
uncertain fate of his missing fellow pilots.

It was Rexford Newcomb�s wallet that
had helped to brush away any remaining crumbs of fear.

"So,
you guarantee you can get me in there?" the professor asked anxiously, his
warm round Aussie twang cheerfully evident.

"Da, is no problem," Sergey answered
confidently, his Russian accent thickly coating each word.

�Aren�t you worried about flying
into the Triangle like everyone else?�

�Professor, the Devil himself could
not keep me out of there. I fear
nothing!�

"Then let's toast this auspicious venture! Cheers!"

They lifted shot glasses filled with
crystal clear vodka and tapped the rims together lightly. As if on cue, the other patrons of the small,
warm tavern burst into song. Newcomb
smiled and glanced around. He grasped
the neck of the nearly empty bottle and tilted it over their glasses once
again, splashing its contents in accidental droplets on the tabletop between
them.

"Tell me, what are they singing
about?"

"It
is very old traditional drinking song," Sergey replied, the alcohol
beginning to take effect. "It has
been a long time...let me think..."
After listening to a few more measures, the pilot joined in. Newcomb hooted with delight and began to clap
in time to the music. Sergey watched the
scientist and decided that he liked the jovial, tall blonde man with the
perfect white teeth and happy, gold-flecked eyes.

The
celebration lasted through the night and well into the early hours of
dawn. The two men pushed open the thick
wooden doors of the pub and lurched out into the quiet, empty street. They ambled arm-in-arm through the biting
cold toward the local inn where Newcomb had rented a room. They trudged along the dimly lit road,
humming and singing hoarsely. A
constable hurried past them, huddling against the icy wind. He eyed the pair suspiciously but decided it
was far too cold to bother with the obviously intoxicated revelers. Newcomb shivered and bundled his thickly
padded, dark green parka closer to his body, trying to capture any escaping
heat. He burrowed into the large pockets
of the hip-length coat and removed a pair of shiny black ski gloves, tugging
them onto his hands. He reached back over
his shoulders, pulling the hood of the parka down over his golden mane. As he spoke, his breath appeared in soft
puffs of white.

"I'm afraid this just isn't my kind of
climate!"

Sergey shrugged, one hand gripping
together the neck of his well-worn, brown leather bomber jacket. He shoved the other hand deep into the pocket
of his khaki trousers. The ends of his
bright red woolen scarf whipped against his back. "I have lived here all my life. The human body can become accustomed to many
things," he said, nodding his head at the scientist. "You are still cold...even with all of
that covering?"

Newcomb chuckled. "We'll have to get you down to Sydney after this
expedition. I think your blood is
frozen!"

"Perhaps,
but vodka makes an excellent anti-freeze!
Would you not agree, comrade?"

They were still laughing as they
reached the steps of the quaint, rustic inn.
Newcomb paused at the door.
"Would you care to come in and warm up before you go?" His green eyes sparkled warmly at the pilot
in the waning darkness.

Sergey
shivered. "Nyet, Professor. I must start the engine now. It will take some time to de-ice the
rotors."

"Well then, until we meet again, Mr.
Telekhov. See you in four weeks!�
Newcomb shouted, smiling radiantly through chattering teeth and waving briefly
at the retreating pilot. Sergey returned
the smile and headed back up the road toward the open field where his
helicopter waited, covered in a frosty white layer of snow and ice.

The pilot�s thoughts were suddenly
hurled back to the present as the man seated next to him spoke into the
mouthpiece of the flight helmet. The
words rumbled into the Sergey's ears like a slow moving train. "Can't this shitbox move any
faster?"

Newcomb had changed much since that
night in the tavern. He could feel the
man glaring at him, with eyes as dead as the frozen earth beneath them. Sergey wondered what could have caused such a
profound shift in his demeanor. He told
himself as long as Newcomb paid, it was none of his concern. Yet he could not shake the uneasy feeling of
dread that coiled in his belly like a ribbon of ice, and he looked forward to
touching down as soon as possible.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Seiya paid the cab driver and
stepped away from the curb. He stood on
the broad sidewalk in front of the Hotel Okura in the heart of Tokyo�s government district. Across the Boulevard Toranomon, Seiya could
see the back of the U.S. Embassy. High
on a pole, an American flag fluttered in the slow breeze above bare January
trees. The heavy, mid-morning foot
traffic flowed around the Pegasus Saint as if he were a boulder in the middle
of a swiftly flowing river of humanity.
He grinned and breathed in deeply, his shining brown eyes reflecting
sparse white clouds in the crystal blue sky.
Seiya loved the sights, sounds and smells of the winter-wet, beehive
metropolis. It energized his heart, mind
and soul. As he made his way to the main
entrance of the hotel, he paused before the wide glass doors, looking down at
himself and wondering if he had dressed appropriately for the upscale
Okura. In order to watch the comings and
goings of Lexie Bloodstone unnoticed, he needed to blend in with the rest of
the clientele. At the Boathouse, he had
stared in bewilderment at the tangled wardrobe hanging in his cramped,
disheveled closet. His normal choice of
clothing never really varied much from a pair of comfortable jeans, sneakers
and a tattered old shirt. Saori could
not bring herself to rummage through his belongings, so at her request, Tatsumi
had surprisingly found a dark blue crew neck cashmere pullover, tan slacks and
brown loafers buried deep in the recesses of Seiya�s closet. Although he felt a bit uncomfortable in the
outfit, and he frankly could not even remember where the items had come from in
the first place, Seiya studied his reflection in the dark glass of the hotel
lobby doors. He almost didn�t recognize
himself. His dark brown hair was wild
and unruly as usual, but the image in the window pleased him and he began to
feel more like a suave private eye. He
entered the hotel, admiring the balance of modern and traditional decor
throughout the interior of the building.
The entire floor was covered in striking blue-gray carpeting, and puffy
white paper lanterns hung near the walls on long cords attached to the
dizzyingly high ceiling. Seiya strolled
casually toward the opposite end of the spacious lobby where several groupings
of simple rounded black chairs and low, red-lacquered tables were placed. He chose a seat that allowed him the clearest
view of the entire main floor of the hotel.

�All right, bitch, show
yourself,� Seiya thought excitedly.
He scanned the area near the front desk, hoping to catch sight of the
young reporter either entering or leaving the hotel. Instead, his attention was immediately drawn
elsewhere. Stepping off the elevator
nearest the front desk was the most beautiful man Seiya had ever seen in his
life. He was rather tall, with a radiant
cap of platinum blonde hair. Though he
remained at some distance, Seiya believed he could clearly see tiny sparks of
lightning dancing in his incredible silver eyes. He wore an elegant cream-colored overcoat
that hung just below the knee of his black-as-ink trousers and shiny black
shoes. Even fully clothed, Seiya could
see the man was muscular and athletic.
He moved with the natural grace and unchallenged confidence of a shark
gliding through a calm sea. Seiya held
his breath as the stunningly handsome stranger surveyed the lobby, looking in
his direction. The Saint quickly shifted
his gaze to the floor, his cheeks burning crimson.

�This is crazy!� Seiya mumbled to
himself. �I haven�t done anything
wrong!� He shook his head and raised his
eyes, secretly hoping the enigmatic stranger would still be there. He felt like a child sneaking his hand into a
cookie jar, yet he was compelled to seek a better view of the magnificent
beauty whose looks would make even the Gold Saint Aphrodite envious.

Seiya stood and casually wandered
closer to the reception area, stopping several feet away at the one end of the
long, curved front desk. The man busied
himself with some paperwork at the opposite end, his head bowed down slightly,
enabling Seiya to furtively study his exquisite profile. The Greek statuary in Sanctuary paled in comparison. With his back turned, Seiya could see the
rest of the man� s glorious hair. It was
styled into a single, thick braid that hung down his back like the shining tail
of an argent dragon, nearly reaching the carpeted floor of the lobby. The man suddenly lifted his head, shoulders
tensing. He turned and looked directly
into the eyes of the Pegasus Saint.

�Heh?� Seiya said aloud, stunned.

It was at that moment he noticed
another standing behind the man. She
seemed to emerge out of thin air.
Although her eyes were hidden under the black lenses of very fashionable
sunglasses, there could be no mistake.
It was the infamous Lexie Bloodstone.

Suddenly, the glorious man appeared
to momentarily weaken, his attention shifting away from Seiya. He leaned against the reception counter and
clutched a hand to his chest. Lexie
immediately attended him, uttering hushed, anxious questions through a
concerned frown. He waved her off
gently, recovering quickly. The girl
closely scrutinized the tall man, then reached up and removed her sunglasses.

The shock of remembrance paralyzed
Seiya. It had been six long years, and
her appearance had changed dramatically, but Seiya knew those eyes as surely as
he knew his own.

�Seika?� he whispered.

She slowly turned her head and looked straight
into the face of the Pegasus Saint, but Lexie Bloodstone made no show of
recognition. As the pair turned to leave
the hotel, panic swept through Seiya.
Though almost too impossible to believe, if the girl was indeed Seika,
he was not about to lose sight of her!
Still somewhat dazed, his body instinctively moved forward.

A thousand familiar pinpricks rushed
up the base of Seiya�s spine to the top of his skull. It was the static presence of Cosmo, but unlike
any he had ever felt before. It was
cold, dark and alien, as if something ancient and long buried had suddenly been
resurrected. Seiya struggled desperately
to take a step, but he was inexplicably immobilized. He felt as if he was wading neck-high through
a pool of quicksand. Then, without
warning, everyone and everything in motion, except the Bronze Saint, slipped
into a blur of hyper speed. All around
him, minutes shifted ahead in the blink of an eye, yet he remained motionless,
trapped in a physical nightmare.

Realization struck Seiya like a
physical blow. It was not the world
around him that had sped up, it was he that had slowed down. Anger and frustration fueled Seiya. His own Cosmo flared and beads of sweat
rolled down his face, mingling with hot tears that spilled down his
cheeks. One thought played over and over
in his head as he fought to push forward. It had to be Seika! But...why hadn�t she recognized him? Seiya could only watch helplessly as the man
and girl moved like mercurial apparitions out the lobby doors.

�NEE-SAN!� he screamed.

Instantly, the unyielding bubble
that held him vanished. He nearly lost
his balance as time and space righted itself.
Seiya shivered, trying to shake off the unsettling effects of the
strange, disturbing Cosmo that clung to his skin like a shroud. He bolted through the lobby and out of the
hotel, frantically searching the sea of pedestrians for a glimpse of the
preternatural man...and more importantly, his long-lost sister.

But they had disappeared. Seiya�s heart sank in anguish. His knees felt weak, and the sour taste of
bile had risen in the back of his throat.
He scrubbed his tears away with the back of his hand, unsure of what to
do next.

Then he knew. Seiya hailed a cab, his body and soul
energized with renewed determination.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Shiryu stood alone on the smooth,
polished wood floor of the Graude gymnasium, panting heavily as he toweled off
his sweat-soaked face and arms. The
workout had been strenuous, but it had not eased his worries. Since returning from China, he had
felt a palpable strand of turmoil running through the Bronze Saints. To Shiryu, it was as real as a rope that
tethered a group of mountaineers together as they ascended a peak. He had always been more attuned to the
connection, but whether it was due to his training under Master Dohko or simply
a side effect of the Dragon Cloth, he couldn�t say. Although the link could be an extremely
useful tool, there were times when it could be quite stress inducing. His brothers also had the ability to feel the
twining, but to a lesser degree. More
often than not, they chose to ignore it unless absolutely necessary. Shiryu could control the strength of the
contact, but there was no way for him to turn it off completely. It was always with him, and in a way, he
found it rather comforting to have a part of the Saints with him, but it also
meant he had to deal with the constant intrusion of their individual
psychoses.

Shiryu sighed as he replaced the
nunchaku, sai, and kwan dao in their corresponding racks against the gym
wall. He wished the Saints were all
together at the mansion. It would be
easier for him to determine the reason for the unease that was affecting
them. Unfortunately, Hyoga would be away
for some time in Siberia, and Ikki had taken Shun on an extended trip that
included stops at every amusement park in Japan. Even Saori seemed to be under an unusual
amount of strain. She had cloistered
herself in the mansion�s counsel room with Tatsumi as her only companion. Shiryu was justifiably curious, but he knew
Saori would explain everything to him when she felt it was appropriate. At least Seiya wasn�t too far away. Shiryu�s heart warmed as he thought of the
Pegasus Saint.

He headed upstairs to shower and
change, but a visitor at the front door caused Shiryu to tarry on the
stairs. He paused, watching as Tatsumi
hurried to answer the chimes. Shiryu
smiled broadly as he heard a silk-smooth voice float in from the doorstep.

�Mu!� Shiryu shouted gleefully and bounded back
down the stairs. His face reflected
undisguised joy. �Pardon me, Tatsumi! I�ll take care of our guest!�

Tatsumi looked from Mu to Shiryu,
then rolled his eyes and shook his head, sighing and muttering to himself as he
returned to his duties.

�Please come in, Mu! It�s so great to see you again!�

�And you as well. It�s been too long, ne?�

They shook hands vigorously. Shiryu suddenly remembered he was still
wearing the shiny, emerald green pants and white sleeveless t-shirt from his
workout. Perspiration trickled down his
temples and the back of his neck.

�K�so! I need to change!�

�Why? You look fantastic...as usual.� Mu reached out and brushed aside a damp lock
of jet-black hair from Shiryu�s forehead.
The Dragon Saint felt his cheeks burning crimson.

�Um...I really need to...uh, freshen
up.�

�Well, if you must!�

�Listen, while I�m in the shower,
just make yourself at home!�

Shiryu dashed up the stairs once
again. He entered the bathroom at the
end of the hall and turned on the hot water full force. Shiryu grinned to himself. He was genuinely happy and rather excited by
Mu�s visit. The Gold Saint�s radiating
serenity was a soothing balm to Shiryu�s troubled mind. As he stepped through the shower stall door,
hard streams of scalding water poured over him.
He closed his eyes and rolled his head back, drenching his
extraordinarily lengthsome hair. He
enjoyed the luxurious sensation of his wet tresses as it clung to his
skin. He lathered and rinsed his thick
black mane, then began to soap his superbly toned body, sighing as the tension
melted slowly from his stiff neck and weary limbs.

An unexpected shadow fell across the
frosted glass door, catching Shiryu�s attention.

�Anone! Chotto!� he shouted irritably. �I�m in the shower!�

The door opened and a nude Mu
entered the steam-clouded stall.

�N-nani?� Shiryu stammered, somewhat
embarrassed and quite surprised by the intrusion. He instinctively covered his genitals with
his hands, yet was unabashed in his admiration of Mu�s perfect form. He had always envied Mu�s lovely hair, and
often imagined what it might feel like to have it draped across his own naked
body. Shiryu was startled as his groin
began to stir at the erotic images that slipped into his thoughts.

The Aries Saint had no apparent
inhibitions when it came to displaying himself in front of Shiryu. Noticing the perplexed look on the Dragon�s
face, Mu chuckled softly under the hot deluge as it soaked his incredibly long,
pale hair. As he busied himself with the
shampoo, Mu flashed a small confident smile at Shiryu.

�I could really use a shower
too...you don�t mind if we share, do you?� Mu asked playfully.

�Um...no, I suppose not.� Shiryu kept his back turned toward him, still
a bit mortified by his friend�s boldness.
He moved to exit the shower stall, trying to inch his way past Mu while
keeping his hands glued to his throbbing member.

Mu swiftly raised a powerful arm,
blocking Shiryu�s path to the shower door.
From under long, delicate lashes that sparkled with tiny dewdrops of
water, he glanced sideways at the Dragon Saint.

�Leaving so soon?�

�Well, I...� Shiryu began nervously.

Mu hooked his outstretched arm
around Shiryu�s collarbone, pulling him backward into his well-muscled
chest. Mu�s fair skin stood in stark
contrast against Shiryu�s tanned form.
Their bodies were warm and slippery, and Shiryu gasped softly as he felt
Mu�s full erection nestling against his bare buttocks.

�Don�t go...� Mu pleaded gently in
Shiryu�s ear.

�Mu!� Shiryu responded breathlessly,
shocked by the older Saint�s brazen request.
He had been attracted to the Aries Saint for quite some time, but
Shiryu�s deep loyalty and unrequited love for Seiya had created a self-induced
chasm in his heart that he would never allow anyone else to cross. He sensed a kinship in his Bronze brother,
and had always hoped the Pegasus Saint would one day return his adoration, but they never seemed
to be alone together long enough to find out Seiya�s true feelings.

Yet he could not simply dismiss Mu,
who made no effort to disguise his love for Shiryu. He swallowed hard. Although there was no guarantee he would ever
have a relationship with Seiya, he still felt the ache of betrayal as his body
responded to Mu�s caresses.

�You needn�t be so modest with me,
sweet Dragon...�

Mu unwrapped his arm from around
Shiryu�s chest and began massaging his shoulders. Shiryu was helpless under the Gold Saint�s
expert fingers. Mu slid his hands down
Shiryu�s arms, finding the boy�s hands frozen at his groin. Mu gently moved Shiryu�s hands aside and
replaced them with his own, tenderly cupping the Bronze Saint�s growing
arousal. Shiryu moaned and dipped his
head back, resting it on Mu�s shoulder as the shower continued to pelt them
like a hard, hot rain.

Shiryu suddenly grasped Mu�s wrists
and pulled his hands away. He could not
let Mu continue, at least not until he knew for sure if he stood a chance with
Seiya. He quickly turned and embraced Mu
tightly. He tilted his head up, and
found Mu�s irresistible lips and tongue waiting for his. The Gold Saint tasted of cinnamon. Shiryu could have stayed there, under the
warm cascade of water, kissing Mu for hours, but he backed away. Mu smiled knowingly and gazed tenderly into
the sea-blue eyes of the boy.

�I understand, xiaode-xing. Your heart waits for another...�

Shiryu nodded, shame coloring his
cheeks. �I�m just so confused...�

�I know, and I certainly wouldn�t
want you to regret anything you might do with me.�

Mu smiled warmly at Shiryu, his eyes
glowing embers of love. He briefly
hugged the boy again. He knew Shiryu
would have relented had he pressured him, but Mu only wanted him if it was
truly his choice. He would never use
force on Shiryu.

�Finish your shower...I�ll dry off
in your room.� Mu reached for the glass
door.

�Mu, wait!�

The Gold Saint looked over his shoulder at the
boy.

�I just want you to know that I
never meant to...lead you on.� He
glanced at Mu�s still prominent erection, then guiltily averted his gaze.

Mu chuckled. �I should say the same to you!� he remarked,
raising an eyebrow lasciviously at Shiryu�s rigid member. He ducked as the Dragon Saint pitched the bar
of soap at his head, then exited the shower, grinning.

Sudden regret rolled through Shiryu
as he once again stood alone in the stall.
He grasped the hot water faucet handle and turned it off. He was unmoved as his erection slowly
subsided under the shock of the icy cold water.
It was not the first time he had performed the ritual.

Shiryu dried off, shrugged on his
dark blue, silk robe and headed toward his room. He paused outside the closed door. Inside, he could hear the muted sounds of
self-pleasure. Shiryu�s face warmed with
embarrassment. He quickly moved out of
earshot, trying desperately to avoid becoming aroused again. After what seemed like an eternity, Shiryu
approached his room once more. He leaned
in, listening intently. Relieved by the
silence, he took a quick breath and rapped sharply on the door.

�Come in, Shiryu!�

He entered discreetly, not knowing
what to expect from the Gold Saint.
Though he looked slightly tousled and his pale face was flushed pink, Mu
stood fully clothed in the middle of the room.
If he suspected Shiryu of accidentally eavesdropping only moments
earlier, Mu made no show of it. Shiryu
was surprised to find that even after the shower encounter, he did not feel the
slightest bit uncomfortable with Mu. In
fact, he was as attractive as ever...perhaps a little more. He had borrowed some of Shiryu�s clothing,
and although Mu looked spectacular, it left the Bronze Saint wondering why his
closet seemed to be so popular.

Shiryu moved to the bed and sat down
cross-legged, adjusting the belt of his robe.
They remained quiet for several minutes, then Shiryu broke the silence.

�Why have you come here, Mu?�

The Gold Saint joined the boy on the
bed, sitting back to back with the Dragon.
Shiryu pulled Mu�s damp, silver-plum hair around him like a cape,
rubbing his cheek against the glorious satin mane.

�I wish I could say it was just to
see you, my beloved, but there is something dark on the horizon...I know you
can feel it too.�

�Mm...� Shiryu acknowledged Mu�s assessment. �What is it?�

�I don�t know...it�s so strange and
fleeting. I just can�t seem to bring it
into focus...it�s like something I can see out of the corner of my eye, but
when I try to look at it directly, it vanishes...�

Shiryu�s brow furrowed. There was no mistaking the deep concern in
Mu�s voice... and perhaps a touch of fear.
Mu was right. He could feel
it. A storm was brewing for the Saints.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The flight had been uneventful,
which only aided in flooding Hyoga�s thoughts with the relentless image of Shun
and Ikki lying together, locked in a lover�s embrace...and the kiss. His stomach ached as he felt Shun�s ghost
touches ebb and flow over his body like a warm summer tide. It should have been him on the floor with the
green-haired boy instead of Ikki. Had he
finally lost Shun forever? He never
believed Ikki would go so far with his own brother, and worst of all, Hyoga had
actually pushed the Phoenix
into action. Perhaps he should have
stayed and fought for Shun, but he really needed to clear his head and sort out
his feelings. He had opened his heart
and soul to the boy...Shun would have to decide for himself to whom he would
give his love.

Predawn light glinted off the Graude
Foundation�s private jet as it touched down in Magadan, Western
Siberia. A rental car
awaited Hyoga at the small terminal. The
trip would take over 10 hours of marathon driving, but he had no
alternative. Magadan held the only
landing strip in the entire western region.
He stowed his bags in the trunk of the compact car and began the long journey
home to Anadyr. As he motored north along the coastline, his
spirits lifted somewhat at the thought of seeing Jakob again...and his
mama. It was time he paid his respects
to his late sensei as well. It was the
least he could do for the man he had killed.
Hyoga had avoided it long enough.

Though still the middle of winter,
the sky was oddly bright. An intense
sunrise broke over the peaks, and Hyoga could just make out the shadowy,
snow-covered Kolyma mountain range. Beyond the road, sensuously curved snowdrifts
extended as far as the eye could see, sparkling like pixie dust. Hyoga immediately felt at home, and not
simply because it was the place of his birth, or that the untainted white
Northern Siberian plateaus had been his training ground. The ancient, frozen land was a part of
him...the snow, ice and cold cleansed his spirit, and welcomed him like a long
absent lover. He suddenly wished Shun
had accompanied him after all.

He rolled down the window, allowing
the frigid air to rush into the powder-blue automobile. Hyoga thought it odd but not particularly unusual
that in the several hours he had been driving, he had seen no other
travelers. A cloudy, fine-spun sensation
tickled at his subconscious, but he was road-weary and still had another 5
hours to go. Hyoga decided a stop in the
town of Kamenskoye
would help to alleviate the peculiar feeling before he continued the drive
inland. He slowed the vehicle to a crawl
as he approached the outskirts of the small village. It was already 9 a.m. and except for Hyoga�s
car, there was no light or movement anywhere.
The windows of the homes were eerily dark and deserted. Snowdrifts had
settled in the doorways of the sparse buildings, and there was no visible
traces of tire tracks or footprints in the fresh snow that blanketed empty
streets. It was as if every living thing
had suddenly abandoned the town. He
parked the car in front of a barn-like structure, leaving the engine
running. Hyoga checked the fuel gauge. It would be unwise to run out of gas in the
barren western highlands. He stepped out
of the car and turned slowly, surveying the tiny hamlet.

�Privet!�

Hyoga listened for a response, but
all that could be heard was the low growl of the auto engine. The heat and exhaust from the tailpipe plumed
around the back end of the car in a gray-white cloud. A slight breeze stirred loose snow crystals
from the rooftops.

�PRIVET!� he shouted again. Hyoga paused a moment longer, then made his
way to the nearby shed. He forced the
door open and briefly searched inside, emerging with a red metal fuel can full
of gasoline. He secured the container in
the back of the car, then drove slowly out of Kamenskoye.

The next few hours seemed to pass
quickly as the strangely empty town consumed his thoughts. It gnawed at him, and he almost loitered to
investigate further, but his desire to reach Anadyr
before the long shadows of evening fell far outweighed any concern he had for
the mysteriously vacant town. At least
the vision of Ikki and Shun had temporarily ceased its constant intrusion.

The rest of the trip had been easy
and by late afternoon, the familiar landscape of his home came into view. His heart overflowed with warmth, and the
troubles that plagued him lifted away like dark clouds after a summer rainstorm. He thought of his young friend Jakob who
would no doubt be waiting at his rustic cabin on the outskirts of the tiny
city. He punched the accelerator and
raced through the center of Anadyr. He reached the far end of the town, parking
the car where the road became impassable.
Hyoga hadn�t noticed Anadyr was
completely devoid of life. He shrugged
the hood of his woolly parka closer to his face, retrieved his gear from the
trunk, and continued on foot. The crisp,
thick snow crunched beneath his feet as he trudged up the steep slope toward
his boyhood home.

�Jakob!� he called out the moment he
spied the cabin, expecting the child to burst through the door and rush to
greet him. Instead, Hyoga was met with
the mournful sound of the wind skimming through the tops of the scattered,
snow-laden trees.

�Jakob! It�s me...Hyoga!�

Perhaps the boy had remained in town
after all. Hyoga longed to see a
friendly face, but he supposed Jakob would show up eventually. He reached the door of the cabin and opened
it just wide enough to toss his bags inside.
As he wandered away from the shack, Hyoga closed his eyes and breathed
in deeply. Though the sun shone
intensely, it was still brutally cold.
Without the smog-like, mid-January haze to obscure it, the clear winter
sky seemed to go on forever. Since the
day was young and the drive had been excruciatingly long, he decided it would
be the perfect time to visit his mama�s watery grave. He thought about the Crystal Saint,
wondering how he would react upon seeing the final resting place of his beloved
master for the first time since burying him so long ago. Hyoga had been devastated by the man�s death,
and the feeling was still fresh in his heart.
Thankfully, he wouldn�t have to face his past transgression until the
next day. The Cygnus Saint began the
long trek east toward the Gulf
of Anadyr. The fresh snowfall sang beneath his footfalls
as he jogged briskly over the white earth.
He hoped by the time he returned to the cabin, young Jakob would be
there waiting for him.

Life at the mansion could often be
sedentary, and it felt good to work his muscles strenuously again. As he leaped from snow bank to snow bank and
over towering treetops, Hyoga absorbed the stark beauty of the land. Had his brothers been there, he doubted they
would share his opinion. He supposed he
returned to Siberia for the same reasons Ikki found solace in his frequent
visits to Death Queen
Island. Although each place was enchanting in its own
way, they also held many dark memories for the Cygnus and the Phoenix.
Hyoga had seen the death of his mother, his mentor, and his rival in Siberia, yet he still felt its gentle pull that whispered
�home� in his soul. It would be
difficult to leave again.

Glacial peaks loomed in the near
distance. He had finally reached the
frozen edge of the gulf, to the same spot he had visited so many times in the
past. Hyoga removed his thickly padded
coat and dropped it on the ice. His
Cosmo automatically flared, regulating his internal core temperature and
warming his body from the inside out, much the same way Ikki�s Cosmo kept his
flesh from burning to a crisp in the volcanic heat of Death Queen Island. The Russian boy breathed deeply, filling his
lungs with arctic air. Without
hesitation, he dove into the choppy, gelid water. As Hyoga kicked his powerful legs, propelling
himself swiftly downward, the sounds and pressure of the deep, cold sea
penetrated his skull. Though he could
see very little in the depths of the liquid blackness, he kept his eyes open, a
feat that would have instantaneously frozen the orbs of any other human. He found the way to his mother�s sunken tomb
by instinct, and as he neared the dark, ominous hulk of the broken vessel, he
silently cursed. He had forgotten to
bring a rose. The Bronze Saint solemnly
wove through the murky hull, tracing the same eerie path he knew so well. His mother lay unchanged, and although the
rest of the ship was swathed in Stygian gloom, her body seemed to phosphoresce
with a soft blue light. Hyoga drifted
closer to her, sorrow tugging at his heart.

Suddenly, the boy pushed away from
his mother, his face twisting into a mask of horror and disbelief. Her eyes had opened.

�This isn�t real...this can�t be
real!�

Although his belly churned with apprehension, he could not leave. He continued to stare at her body. She turned her head, looking directly at
him. Hyoga flailed his arms and legs,
backing away in abject fear as she sat up and floated toward him, reaching for
him with outstretched arms. The Cygnus
Saint opened his mouth to scream. Air
bubbles boiled forth from his lips. In
blind terror, he turned and clawed his way out of the ship. In a matter of moments, he broke the surface
of the water and scrambled clumsily onto the ice, panting heavily. Hyoga stood shakily and stumbled aimlessly
forward, trying to fathom the nightmare he had just witnessed.

�This is all a dream...I know it...a
nightmare...yes, that�s it...� the boy mumbled to himself.

�This is no dream, child...�

Hyoga whirled around. His mother stood on the ice at the edge of
the sea, rivulets of salt water dripping from her long, blond hair and pale
pink gown. Her large blue eyes
glittered, reflecting the craggy, blue-white landscape. Hyoga backed away as she moved toward him on
bare feet. She too seemed unaffected by
the severe environment, which only served to fuel Hyoga�s panic. His heel caught an icy protrusion and he fell
onto his rear, but he continued to scrabble backward on his hands and feet, his
mind numb with confusion.

�Wh-who are you?� he stammered.

�Oh dear, what�s wrong? Don�t you recognize your own mother?� she
smiled easily.

Hyoga squeezed his eyes shut. �This
is just an illusion!� he shouted in
his head. He breathed in and out deeply,
trying to regain his composure. �I am
Cygnus Saint Hyoga, and this phantom will be gone!� He opened his eyes, but the reanimated
body of his dead mother continued to approach him.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Seiya staggered across the
snow-covered lawn and up the steps of the Kido mansion, pounding heavily at the
front door. He was mildly surprised to
find Shiryu standing before him instead of Tatsumi.

�Shi-ri-yu...� he said
carefully. �I wanna talk to
Saori...� It was obvious Seiya had been
drinking. He stumbled past the Dragon
Saint, swaying and squinting as he stood in the bright, warm foyer. He peeled off his fleecy sheepskin coat and
dropped it to the floor.

�Man, it is hot in here!� he
remarked offhandedly. Shiryu watched him
in stunned silence. He had never before
witnessed Seiya under the influence of alcohol.

�Seiya, I think you�ve had too much
to drink. Why don�t you come into
the...� Shiryu reached out to take his
elbow, but Seiya wrenched dramatically away from the coal-haired boy, nearly
losing his balance.

�NO!
I wanna see Saori...NOW!� Seiya
cupped his hands around his mouth and began to bellow at the top of his
lungs. �SAORI! SAAAOOORIIIII!�

Shiryu could not believe his
eyes. �Seiya! What�s wrong with you?�

Tatsumi barreled into the entrance
hall. �What�s going on out here?� He glared menacingly at the two Saints.

�It�s OK, Tatsumi. I�ll take care of him,� Shiryu quickly
offered.

�Well, see that you do! Miss Saori will not tolerate this kind of
nonsense!�

Seiya rolled his eyes in
disgust. �Oh, Tatsumi! Will you ever remove your nose from Saori�s
butt?�

�What?� Tatsumi was furious.

�Seiya!� the Dragon exclaimed.

�Come on, Shiryu! Have you ever seen a nose more brown than
his?�

�Why you little..!� Tatsumi growled
through clenched teeth, the tendons in his neck standing out like thin ropes.

�Seiya, how about some nice, hot
coffee?� Shiryu interrupted, aware of the rage brewing in the older man.

�No thank, my friend, but I will
take an audience with Saori Kido if she�ll drop the vampire act and rise from
her coffin!�

�Keep your voice down!� Tatsumi
warned.

�Ha!
You all may be afraid to disturb the delicate princess, but I�m
not!� Seiya thumped his chest with an
upturned thumb.

Saori suddenly entered the
foyer. She appeared somewhat haggard,
and a veneer of concern covered her face.

�Well, well, well! Her Highness graces us with her presence!�
Seiya remarked sarcastically.

Tatsumi leaped to her defense, his
bald pate flushed red with anger. �Watch
your insolent tongue, boy!�

The Pegasus Saint ignored him and
approached Saori on wobbly, sake-heavy legs.
He stood before her, weaving slightly back and forth, his eyes tinged
with red. She wondered if it was due to
the alcohol...or tears. Seiya frowned
and looked down at his feet, as if he knew what she was thinking.

�Seiya, what�s wrong?� she asked
quietly, almost whispering.

He raised his head and glared
fiercely at her. �Do you really want to
know?�

She nodded. �Something is obviously bothering
you...� She paused. �Does this have anything to do with Lexie
Bloodstone?�

�Good guess,� he added,
smirking.

�Please, Seiya, stop being so
cryptic and tell us why...�

�I�m drunk?� the Bronze Saint
interrupted. �Maybe finding Seika after
all these years is reason enough!�

The group stared at Seiya in stunned
silence. �Yeah, It turns out Lexie
Bloodstone is my sister. Isn�t that a
riot?� he said with unusual calm.

Shiryu smiled broadly. �Seiya!
That�s fantastic news!�

He laughed bitterly. �Oh yes, it�s just peachy-keen...or at least
it would be if Seika had recognized me as well.�

�Are you sure about this,
Seiya? I mean, is it possible you could
have been mistaken?� Saori asked.

Seiya�s entire being seemed to sag
with exhaustion. He placed a hand over
his eyes as a nearly inaudible sob racked his chest. Shiryu moved close to Seiya, offering his
shoulder for support. The Pegasus Saint
did not resist and leaned heavily into the Dragon�s sheltering embrace. The room was silent as a tomb.

�From the day I was taken away from
the orphanage, and Seika, my dreams have been haunted night after night by the
image of my sister. No matter how many
years pass, I�d know her face better than my own. I looked into her eyes, Saori. There�s no mistake...it was Seika.�

Saori was overcome by sorrow. Slow tears of regret spilled from her lilac
eyes. �Seiya-san, please forgive
me!� She bowed deeply before him.

�Saori, I don�t blame you. � Shiryu released Seiya as he reached out to
grasp her shoulders and pull her upright.
�If you had known Lexie was my sister, you would have moved heaven and
earth to bring her to me.�

She sobbed and flung herself into
Seiya�s arms. He comforted her, placing
his lips close to her ear. �But know
this, Saori,� he said, whispering softly so no one else in the room could
possibly hear. �If I believed for one
moment that you had purposely kept Seika from me, goddess or no goddess, I�d
snap your neck like a twig.�

Saori immediately stiffened and
withdrew from Seiya in utter disbelief.
Although his brain was liquor-soaked, deep in her heart she knew his
threat was completely serious. She trembled
and silently watched as Seiya turned away from her and paced around the
foyer. Tatsumi noticed her discomfort
and moved to her side protectively.

�Did you ever have that flash of
lightning, that one moment of clarity when you finally realized the purpose for
everything you�ve experienced in your life?� he asked of no one in
particular. �Well, I�ve had that flash,
and I�ve made a decision...I�m resigning.�

�Eh?
How dare you! Who do you think
you are?� Tatsumi demanded irately.
Saori touched his arm, shaking her head.
He obeyed her silent command and stilled his anger.

Shiryu didn�t want to believe it,
but there was something so final in Seiya�s statement. �Wh-what do mean?�

Seiya turned and smiled at Shiryu,
his face beaming love and warmth at the Dragon Saint. �I need to devote everything to this,
Shiryu. If it takes the rest of my life,
I have to bring Seika back,� he said almost pleadingly.

He felt a distinct closeness to the
black-haired Saint, and he knew Shiryu felt something for him, but Seiya could
not afford to explore his personal feelings for the Dragon. He could not allow his heart to detract from
the search for his sister. The
languorous effects of the sake pushed his emotions close to the surface. Seiya swallowed against the lump forming in
his throat as he gazed into Shiryu�s exquisite eyes that glistened with
restrained tears. His thoughts shifted
to his absent brothers, the only family he had known other than Seika, and the
aching in his breast grew. The Pegasus
Saint knew if he remained even a second longer, his heart might win out after
all. Without another word, he glanced
around at Tatsumi, Saori and Shiryu, as if trying to burn their images into his
memory one last time. Then with blinding
speed, he headed to the front door and left the mansion.

�Seiya! Wait!�
Shiryu scooped Seiya�s coat from off the floor and raced after him.

�Shall I stop the Pegasus?� Tatsumi
asked Saori.

�No, let him go...but initiate an
immediate trace on the whereabouts of Lexie...I mean, Seika.�

�You still want to help Seiya? He�s nothing but an ungrateful little gutter
rat!�

�After all he�s done for us, we owe
him at least that much...don�t you agree, Tatsumi?�

Shiryu flung open the double doors
and peered into the gathering gloom of early evening. He could still feel Seiya�s lingering Cosmo,
like the shimmering tail of a shooting star, but the scrubby, obstinate Saint
had disappeared. A single teardrop slid
down Shiryu�s cheek as he stood alone on the landing, staring numbly at the
familiar shining box in the
driveway. It was the Pegasus Cloth.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Ikki watched Shun as he napped
contentedly beside him in the passenger�s seat of the Lamborghini. Ikki knew how his brother felt. Their whirlwind trip through some of Japan�s many
amusement parks had proved to be exhausting.
Although the thrill of the rides was lost on Ikki, his little brother
had found his inner child and somehow managed to feel a rush of adrenaline on
the various roller coasters. Ikki was
simultaneously delighted and envious of the boy. It had been refreshing to watch Shun finally
behave somewhat normally for a change, but the Phoenix Saint could not stop his
thoughts from returning to the intimate tryst they had shared only a few days
earlier. Throughout the trip, it had
been a constant struggle to push the irresistible images from his mind...and to
restrain himself from initiating another union with the younger Saint. Shun, however, seemed unaffected by the
encounter, and for that Ikki was grateful.
As they wandered the grounds of the theme parks, he longed to simply
hold hands with the boy, but Ikki knew even such a harmless act of affection
would have elicited unwanted and hateful stares from narrow-minded
passersby. Ikki dared not risk ruining
any rare moments of joy and normalcy for his brother.

Shun still slept as Ikki eased the
car into the garage of the mansion. He
gently lifted the boy from the vehicle, being careful not to rouse him. Shun purred and nestled snugly into Ikki�s
sturdy arms. The Phoenix Saint slipped
into the mansion through the servant�s entrance and quietly made his way
to the stairway that led to the second
floor. He could sense an unusual
tenseness in the seemingly deserted house.
He tightened his grip ever so slightly around the slumbering boy as he
mounted the stairs. Ikki paused
momentarily outside Shun�s bedroom. A
torrent of emotions and recent memories poured over him as he pushed the door
open with his knee. The sweet smell of
melted candle wax still hung in the air.
Ikki carried Shun to the bed and gently laid him down. He sat down on edge of the mattress,
watching his brother�s chest rise and fall steadily. Ikki leaned in closer, wishing the boy would
awaken for just one moment. He wanted to
see his reflection in Shun�s eyes.

Ikki suddenly gritted his teeth and
stood up, moving away from the bed...and his heart�s desire. Turmoil churned in his belly. He needed to think. The anguished Saint headed downstairs and out
to the grounds of the mansion. Perhaps a
walk in the wintry dusk would allow him some perspective. Ikki wandered toward the untamed, wooded
meadows just beyond the landscaped courtyard.

Ikki cast his eyes downward as he
trudged along, focusing on the cold earth beneath his feet and the gauzy, white
puffs of his own breath. A faint,
unfamiliar noise brought his head up.
The delicate sound teased him, and he strained to locate the direction
from which it came. The Phoenix Saint
paused, then headed toward the sustained bell-like humming that seemed to
resonate louder and louder. He pushed
his way through overgrown brambles and thickets as the unending peal seduced
him deeper into the dark, heavy trees.
The pleasant sound seemed to penetrate every part of him, and he
quickened his pace as he neared its source.
Ikki suddenly stopped in his tracks, panting lightly.

�Mu!�

The Aries Saint stood alone in the
small clearing, his eyes closed in meditation.
The older man�s pristine white silk clothing and pale skin seemed to
glow in the darkening forest, giving him the appearance of an unearthly
apparition. He held a Tibetan singing
bowl in one hand, and with the other he rubbed a wooden pestle around the rim
of the delicate metal object in a smooth, continual circle. Mu stilled his movements and opened his
eyes. The angelic sound emanating from
the ancient vessel gradually subsided.

�Ikki-san! What a pleasant surprise!�

�I didn�t mean to disturb you. I can leave if...�

�No, no...I�ve actually just
finished. Honestly!�

�I must say I never expected see you
here...I mean, at the mansion.�

A shadow passed over Mu�s
countenance. �I suppose we�ll discuss
that soon enough...but now is not the time.
It�s such a lovely evening, why spoil it with unpleasantness, ne?�

Ikki�s brow furrowed. He was in no mood to decipher Mu�s
enigmatic ramblings. He studied the Gold
Saint suspiciously, trying to detect any underlying meaning in his
remarks. He could not sense any outright
duplicity or malice, but Ikki remained on guard. He respected Mu, though he knew very little
about him. Ikki was quite aware of the
support and assistance Mu had given the Bronze Saints in their times of need,
and Shiryu seemed to have a special bond with him, but it made little
difference to the Phoenix. He still harbored a certain amount of
distrust for all Gold Saints, and he simply could not think of Mu as a
�brother�.

Although daylight was rapidly
waning, Mu could clearly see topaz embers dancing in Ikki�s blue velvet
eyes. The Phoenix Saint was darkly
beautiful, and it was obvious in his demeanor that the teen was unaware of his
own loveliness. While Mu�s heart raged
for Shiryu, he found Ikki completely beguiling.
The Phoenix
and the Dragon shared many of the same qualities, but Ikki was far more wild,
rebellious and proud, like an unbroken young stallion. A sudden, bitter wind sliced through the
clearing, and the thin silks Mu wore offered little protection. He shivered.

�Are you cold?� Ikki asked politely.

Mu shrugged. �I guess I should have borrowed something a
little warmer from Shiryu!�

�Well, perhaps we can warm things up
a bit...�

Ikki found a few dead tree limbs in
the underbrush. He gathered an armful
and dropped them on a bare patch of the lightly snow-covered earth. The Phoenix
held his hands over the dry branches and ignited his Cosmo. In an instant, the wood was ablaze. Mu emitted a soft sound of approval as he
carefully placed the singing bowl on the ground and moved closer to the
fire. Ikki stared in awe as the
red-orange flames illuminated the man.

�So what�s a Saint like you doing in
a place like this?� Mu asked jokingly as he rubbed his hands together near the
heat.

Ikki couldn�t help but chuckle. �I should ask you the same thing!�

Mu displayed a subtle, knowing
smile. He tilted his head slightly
forward and gazed at the boy from under incredibly long lashes. �Perhaps we�re both here for similar
reasons...�

Ikki had never before noticed Mu�s
entrancing amethyst eyes. He tried to
resist, but his incredulity began to melt away like early morning dew on a hot
summer day. There was something
ethereally appealing and wonderfully soothing about Mu, like the sound that had
drawn Ikki to the small, secluded glade.
He was inexplicably drawn to the man, and although he had no need for
the warmth of the fire, Ikki edged closer to the Aries Saint. It suddenly dawned on him that Mu bore a
passing resemblance to Shun...the ivory skin, the halcyon eyes, the perfect
body. Ikki imagined his younger brother
one day growing into a magnificent beauty such as Mu, if they all somehow
managed to survive their uncertain futures.
The Phoenix
was transfixed by the idea of an older Shun, and his body began to stir. Although he longed for his brother�s warm
caresses, Ikki had purposely avoided any intimate physical contact with Shun
during their brief vacation. He hungered
for the touch of another. Without
thinking, he reached out and smoothed a hand through the entire length of the
Aries Saint�s lilac hair. Mu was
surprised but not offended by the unexpected touch. His craving must have been obvious to the
Gold Saint, for he too reached out a tentative hand and brushed his fingers
lightly across Ikki�s cheek. It was a
complete betrayal of his devotion to Shun, yet the Phoenix closed his eyes and leaned into Mu�s
caress like a cat demanding to be stroked.
The hunger in Ikki was unbearably overwhelming, and Mu�s heart filled
with sympathy for him. The older Saint
opened his arms to the boy, and Ikki gratefully fell into the embrace. Mu knew exactly what the Phoenix needed, and since Shiryu had made
clear his intentions to pursue Seiya, the desire for companionship was not
entirely one-sided. The sudden crush of
lost love weighed heavily upon Mu as his lips and tongue found Ikki�s,
devouring them. The Bronze Saint
responded a bit too zealously, drawing blood from Mu�s soft, generous mouth. The man pulled back and tasted the small
wound with the tip of his tongue.

�Mu-sensei! Gomenasai!
I didn�t mean to...� Ikki trailed off sheepishly, his cheeks a bright
pink.

The Gold Saint laughed softly and
raked a calming hand through Ikki�s blue-black hair. �I�m rather flattered that you apparently
find me good enough to eat!�

Mu pushed up the front of Ikki�s
indigo sweatshirt and stroked the boy�s solid chest. They had similar builds, but Mu stood at
least a head taller. Ikki ran his hands
eagerly over the Gold Saint�s back, feeling every line and curve of his
well-defined muscles through the liquid fabric.
He reached down to explore Mu�s perfectly sculpted buttocks. The Gold Saint rolled his head back,
prompting Ikki to lick and nibble his exposed throat. The noticeable arousal in Ikki was matched by
Mu�s growing hardness. The older Saint
moved a hand to the front of Ikki�s supple leather trousers and pulled the
zipper down with aching slowness. As he
reached inside, Mu was delighted to discover Ikki wore nothing between his bare
skin and the leather. He gently fondled
Ikki�s rapidly stiffening member with nimble, experienced fingers. The Phoenix
moaned and trembled, tightening his iron hold around the older Saint, but Mu
could feel the boy�s knees weaken. Ikki
knelt down, and was immediately awestruck by the prominent swell beneath cool,
white silk. Ikki placed his hands on
Mu�s powerful thighs and delicately, hesitantly bit down through the thin
fabric, dampening the bulge with his saliva.
Mu gasped and laced his fingers through the boy�s thick, dark hair. He slowly but firmly pulled Ikki�s head back
and gazed into his beatific face.

�Are you sure?� Mu whispered as
softly as the crackling flames.

Ikki nodded with undisguised lust
and yearning, his eyes glittering like gold dust scattered across a
storm-tossed sea.

�Do you trust me?�

�Yes...� the Phoenix answered breathlessly.

Mu leaned down and grasped the
bottom edge of Ikki�s shirt, pulling it over his head. The Gold Saint held his breath as he studied
the boy�s perfectly sculpted torso in the dancing firelight. Pure, raw desire overtook them and they both
quickly stripped. Ikki stared in
amazement as Mu let the fine silk slip down his body and pool at his feet. He swallowed nervously. Before him stood a full-grown man, a Gold
Saint, completely naked and fully aroused.
Mu was only 5 years older than Ikki and his body was still youthful, but
the muscles were more rounded with maturity.
Ikki almost felt like a gangly, awkward child in comparison. Mu stepped toward the Phoenix and gripped both hands around his
erection. Ikki could barely breathe as
the utterly foreign sensation paralyzed him.
He throbbed in Mu�s palms, and the older Saint knew Ikki would not be
able to control himself much longer.

�Lay down,� Mu gently commanded.

Ikki complied without hesitation and
flared his Cosmo again, creating a warm pocket of air, cocooning them against
the cold winter ground. Mu joined Ikki,
straddling above him on hands and knees.
His long hair cascaded over them like a soft, lavender blanket. It brushed the length of Ikki�s nude body,
tickling his shoulders, ribs and hips.
He felt protected beneath the silvery veil. The Bronze Saint slid his hands up Mu�s arms,
hooking them behind the Gold Saint�s neck.
He instinctively drew his knees up toward his chest in wanton
invitation. Mu searched Ikki�s face,
finding it lush with desire. He savaged
Ikki�s mouth, then placed a finger between the boy�s bruised lips. Ikki greedily sucked at it, thoroughly
covering it with saliva. Mu quickly
moved his hand to the warm, moist center of the Phoenix.
Both frightened and hungry at the thought of any part of Mu entering
him, Ikki squirmed anxiously beneath him.
The Aries Saint gently rubbed Ikki until he felt the tender, virgin spot
begin to open. Mu pushed his finger
inside steadily, massaging him until the muscles were soft. Ikki�s hips rocked as his insides clenched
around Mu�s finger like a fist. He was
on the verge of climax, but Mu was not finished with him. The older Saint removed his hand quickly.

�No...please don�t stop...� Ikki
pleaded, moaning and writhing as if in pain.

�Soon, my sweet Phoenix...but not just yet...� Mu feathered his lips over Ikki�s chest,
pausing to tease his nipples erect. The
boy moaned again loudly.

Mu grabbed Ikki�s ankles and rested
them against his shoulders, opening him fully.
�Tell me if this hurts you, Ikki...�

Mu pushed the dark, rose-colored
crown of his engorged member between Ikki�s sweat-slicked buttocks. Slow, gentle force met with little resistance
as Ikki took every inch of him.
Perspiration beaded and trickled over their skin, mingling
together. The sheen on their bodies
gleamed yellow and orange in the fire�s glow as they became one.

Every nerve in Ikki�s body danced
with electric pain. He wanted to cry
out, but Ikki did not want Mu to stop.
The older Saint moved in him slightly, and after another moment of
agony, the pain subsided. Mu pressed
Ikki�s legs further down to his chest, and leaned his full weight against
him. Ikki lost all reason as Mu slid in
and out of him with deep, long thrusts that seemed to touch his soul.

Ikki stared into Mu�s face with
blind, lust-filled eyes. �Deeper! Oh, yes...yes, Shun! Like that!� he growled in a stranger�s voice.

Mu gasped as he plunged harder into
Ikki�s velvet sheath. He felt the boy�s
insides tighten, a signal that he was ready to climax. Mu spat into his hand and grasped Ikki�s rock
hard member, pumping his fist steadily as he continued to penetrate the boy
with urgent, forceful thrusts.

The orgasm tore Ikki apart. He clawed at the ground as his Cosmo
intensified, swirling around them in a vortex of flame. He cried out as his wet heat splashed between
them. In the same instant, Mu�s Cosmo
automatically ignited, protecting him against the fires of the Phoenix
Saint. Closing his eyes in mind-numbing
pleasure, he arched his body backward, completely draining himself inside the
boy.

A light snow began to fall as they
lay limply in each other�s arms, Mu on top of Ikki, panting and spent. The sweat from their brows glued strands of
damp hair to their faces. The small fire
had burned itself out, leaving only a few black smoldering remnants. The chill of the night air would have been
uncomfortable, but Ikki�s Cosmo still surrounded them.

Mu placed his hands on either side
of Ikki�s head and propped himself up, smiling warmly down at the boy. He laughed softly. �That was...truly incredible!�

Ikki was less pleased than Mu as
they held each other in the after-glow.
His animal desires had been satiated, and the shame of it burned his
cheeks red. Mu noticed the boy�s
anxiety. He would have liked to remain
in Ikki�s embrace for a little while longer, but there was no sense in forcing
him. Mu was almost envious of Ikki. He wished there had been an older Saint
willing to guide him along the gentle path of sexual pleasure during his salad
days. Memories of lost innocence at the
hands of brutal comrades threatened to invade the quiet oasis of the small
glade.

�Well, it�s getting really
dark...and it�s beginning to snow. We
should probably head back to the house,� Mu suggested, stating the obvious.

Ikki nodded, unable to look Mu in
the face. They parted and dressed
quickly. Although Ikki felt an
undeniable closeness to Mu since he had given himself to the older Saint, there
was no true love between them. They had
simply reached out for each other in frustration, sadness and need. He had been like an uncontrollable beast with
the Gold Saint, and he was unsure of how to behave in the wake of their
encounter. After all, Mu was a virtual
stranger. At least if it had been
Shun...

Suddenly, Ikki�s eyes opened
wide. He had called out Shun�s name
during...! He covered his face with his
hands. What must Mu think of him?

The Gold Saint moved behind Ikki and
placed reassuring hands on boy�s shoulders.
He leaned in and whispered, �Don�t worry, Ikki-kun...whatever happened
here is just between you and me.
OK?�

Ikki felt only slightly relieved
that Mu seemed to understand his embarrassment and regret. He still wasn�t sure he could completely
trust the man, but until the Aries Saint proved otherwise, he had no choice. He wanted to blame Mu for the entire
incident, but the truth rang out in his thoughts as clearly as a church
bell. Ikki had laid the first stone.

Mu smiled and wrapped his arms
around the Bronze Saint�s chest, hugging him affectionately. A wicked grin tugged at Mu�s lips. He playfully stuck his warm, wet tongue deep
in the boy�s ear, then scampered away, laughing like a naughty schoolboy.

Ikki rubbed at his ear in
outrage. �Ch-chotto! Iyashii!
That�s disgusting!� he shouted, and proceeded to chase the Gold Saint
through the woods, across the courtyard and into the mansion, slamming the door
behind them.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The mottled peaks of the Anadyr Mountains
rose up before them. The helicopter had
been airborne for hours and darkness was rapidly approaching. The pilot still had no clue what Newcomb
expected to find in the dormant, frozen wilderness.

�We must return to Magadan for
fuel,� Sergey warned uneasily. The tanks
were dangerously low, and the Russian was more than ready to set the chopper
down...and get away from his disturbing passenger.

Newcomb stared straight ahead. �That won�t be necessary,� he answered almost
gleefully.

An unexpected flash of silver
against the stark white landscape caught Sergey�s eye. He leaned forward, trying to locate the
source, worried they had been detected by Soviet military ground forces.

�What was that?� he wondered aloud,
momentarily forgetting the sickness in the pit of his stomach. He glanced over at Newcomb, whose attention
had also been drawn to the fulguration.
It was apparent the Australian had spotted something. His eyes darted rapidly back and forth, like
a housecat watching a fly. A hungry,
grotesque smile stretched his lips over hideously white, dead-man�s teeth.

Sergey�s gut continued to somersault
as he pushed the helicopter low, swinging the machine into a blue-gray, snow
swept valley on the chance their presence in the forbidden area had been
discovered. Sergey checked the gauges
again. Returning to Magadan was out of
the question. He knew the town of Anadyr was nearby, lying
just over the last mountain peak beyond the vale. With any luck, the fuel would hold out long
enough until they reached the village.
The pilot decided he no longer wanted to be a part of Newcomb�s insanity. He arced the helicopter toward civilization
and the safety of Anadyr.

Newcomb glowered at the pilot. �Does it satisfy you to know this is the last
mistake you will ever make?� he hissed.

Sergey�s skin turned to
gooseflesh. Newcomb�s voice had
changed. It seemed to come from
everywhere, drowning out the helicopter�s engine. It was low and booming, yet at the same time
high and whispery. The sound made the
Russian tremble. It chewed at his
insides like a hungry rat and burrowed deep inside his cranium, settling into
the folds of his brain.

�What do you mean?� Sergey asked
nervously, swallowing against a parched, sour throat.

�It has been located. Your services are no longer required,
human. You have
become...unnecessary.�

He was so relieved at the idea of
escaping from Newcomb that Sergey had nearly missed it. �Human?� he repeated in his mind. Sergey heard the man clearly, but the words
made no sense. Was he joking? What kind of sick game was he playing? Sweat trickled down the pilot�s ribs, and his
hands were slick on the control stick.
His eyes flitted toward Newcomb.

The Australian�s face glowed eerily
in the darkness of the cockpit, illuminated by light of the instrument
panel. Sergey began to notice odd wrinkles
etched into the man�s face. The skin
seemed to sag grotesquely, as if it no longer fit his skull. Newcomb moved his head stiffly, staring
glassy-eyed at the pilot. His mouth
suddenly dropped open, stretching impossibly wide, like a snake unhinging its
jaw. His body began to convulse
violently, and a hideous gurgle bubbled up from deep inside Newcomb�s
throat. Sergey gagged as the sweet,
overpowering smell of burnt sugar suddenly filled his nostrils. He placed a hand over his nose and mouth, trying
to block out the repulsive odor.
Newcomb�s face began to distort, bulging out as something large and
sallow began to push its way out of his gaping mouth cavity. It was if his head was giving birth to some
horrible, pallid thing. Newcomb�s left
eyeball suddenly dislodged with a hollow pop and splattered against the
windshield, leaving a thick trail of black jelly as it slid down and landed at
his feet. Sergey�s heart beat wildly,
and fear screamed like a warning siren in his head, yet he could not tear his
eyes away from the nightmare seated next to him. He could only stare, petrified with
revulsion, as the flesh on the man�s face began to split and peel away. The sound of tearing fabric drew Sergey�s
eyes down to Newcomb�s spasmodically twisting torso. His body pulled slowly apart like wet rags,
falling to the floor of the helicopter in sickening, soft clumps. The man Sergey had known as Professor Rexford
Newcomb from Australia
no longer existed. Overcome by nausea,
the pilot searched desperately in the gloaming for a clearing in which to
land.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sergey
could see the foul, cadaverous thing as it squatted motionless in the pile of
viscera that had once been Newcomb.
There was surprisingly little blood, only a clear slimy substance that
oozed and dripped over the creature and down the passenger�s seat. With one hand on the controls, and flying by
instinct alone, the pilot reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a shiny
metal cigarette lighter. He flicked it
open, bathing the monster in a dancing blue light. It appeared almost human in form. Its head was smooth, nearly featureless, but
quite bulbous and misshapen. The eyes
were nothing more than black, empty slits.
The mouth was almost comically wide, like a toad�s, and filled with
several rows of gleaming, jagged teeth of varying size. Every few seconds a scaly black tongue slid
out between thin, colorless lips. As far
as Sergey could determine, it was completely sexless. A roadmap of blue and green veins covered its
entire body. Its legs were disturbingly
long and spindly, as were its arms.
Sergey could not fathom how the thing could have possibly fit inside
Newcomb�s skin. The creature�s feet were
enormous, the color of pale yellow wax, and resembled the hairless paws of a
dog. Its hands, however, seemed
unfinished. They were rubbery and
formless. Instead of fingers, the digits
were comprised of dozens of grisly, black tendrils that extended, contracted
and writhed in constant motion.

A tremor of revulsion rolled through
Sergey, shaking the lighter loose from his grip. It clattered to the floor noisily,
immediately extinguishing the flame. He
groped for the pistol he kept hidden beneath the pilot seat. As he aimed the weapon at the creature, it
laughed.

�Well? What are you waiting for?� the horrid thing
grinned.

Sergey turned his head, closed his
eyes and squeezed off five rounds into the monster. The bullets penetrated its skin, stopped
halfway in, then slowly sank into its body like gravel into quicksand. The pilot could only stare in mute horror as
the thing undulated its black tongue, producing the bullets in its mouth. The spent projectiles dropped out of its
gaping maw, leaving long threads of viscous saliva trailing from its lips to
the floor of the chopper already littered with the gory remains of Professor
Newcomb.

�Oh God! What is happening?� he wailed in terror.

The creature took no notice of the
pilot�s yowling. �Because of your
interference, my time here has been prolonged.�
It continued to drool heavily as it spoke.

�What...what are you?� Sergey
stammered fearfully. The creature
responded with an unearthly chuckle that made the Russian�s insides ache and
rattle. It grinned hungrily at the pilot,
rasping its hideous tongue over viscid lips.

�Since you are about to die, I shall
tell you. I am Bone-Eater!�

As the terrible thing spoke its
name, the helicopter creaked and groaned.
The engine sputtered, then stopped, and the glass on the instrument
panel exploded outward, sending tiny glittering splinters throughout the
cockpit. Sergey grabbed the sides of his
head in agony as blood spilled from his nose, ears and mouth. He regained his senses quickly as he realized
the machine was dropping swiftly earthward.
If only their altitude had been higher, Sergey could land the chopper
safely as long as the rotors continued to turn, but they were too low. Crashing was inescapable. In desperation, he persisted at the controls
while the Bone-Eater pushed open the passenger�s side door and leaped out of
the plummeting helicopter.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Ikki scrubbed at his skin until it
was bright red and nearly raw, but he could not wash away Mu�s haunting
embrace. Though the water was already
scalding, he reached up and gripped the metal pipe that protruded from the
tiled wall just behind the showerhead.
He concentrated Cosmo into his hand, super heating the water as it
entered the pipe. Any normal person�s
skin would have boiled and blistered under the lava-hot shower, but to Ikki it
merely felt like a warm, comfortable rain sluicing over him. As his thoughts wandered to the Aries Saint,
his emotions became a confusing tangle.
There was no question that his heart belonged to Shun, and guilt weighed
heavily upon the Phoenix
for his betrayal of the boy. Ikki felt
shame and disgust at his own weakness, but he could not summon anger toward the
man who had taken his virginity. He knew
Mu had meant him no harm. The Bronze
Saint could certainly never accuse him of using force during the
encounter. In fact, Ikki had been a more
than willing participant. He simply
could not understand how he could have strayed so easily with the Gold
Saint. Worry gnawed at Ikki�s gut. He had no idea how he would be able to face
Mu or Shun again, but there was one thing of which he was certain. Ikki would everything within his power to
keep Shun from finding out what he had done with Mu.

The bathroom had filled with
stifling clouds of steam from the punishing shower. Ikki turned off the water and stepped out of
the stall. A small noise like the sound
of a cricket swimming across a shallow pond surprised him as he reached for the
thick, white towel that hung on the shower door. As the thin mist quickly dissipated, he
noticed a figure standing at the opposite end of the bathroom, facing the
wall. Ikki recognized the silhouette
instantly.

�Shun!�

�Sorry, nii-san! I really had to pee and I just couldn�t hold
it any longer! I knocked but I guess you
couldn�t hear over the noise of the shower.�
The boy zipped up his jeans, flushed the toilet and moved to the sink to
wash his hands. He glanced over his shoulder
at Ikki who stood on the fluffy white bathmat, looking quite embarrassed and
extremely handsome with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Shining beads of water dripped from his dark
locks and slid down his body in glistening trails. Although Shun was quite troubled by an
unusual disturbance in Hyoga�s Cosmo, he smiled, trying to disguise his
worry. It was disquieting, but did not
seem to require any emergency action...for the time being. He was sure Ikki could feel it as well, and
he wanted to broach the subject, but the friction between Hyoga and his brother
was still a bit too close to the surface.
These quiet moments of closeness with Ikki were like rare, priceless
gems to Shun. He treasured them, more
than he could say, and voicing his concerns for Hyoga would have indeed spoiled
the mood.

�It�s like an oven in here!� he
joked as he dried his hands on a small towel hanging on a nearby rack. �How can you stand it?�

Ikki rolled his eyes and laughed
with Shun, hoping his brother would not detect his anxiety. �So did you have a nice nap?�

�Funny you should mention that. I had an odd dream about you!�

�Oh?
What was so odd about it?� Ikki asked with sincere interest. He was glad to have another topic occupying
his mind instead of the Aries Saint.

�Well, I dreamed you were walking in
a beautiful forest...�

Ikki�s heart skipped a beat. He swallowed hard and waited for Shun to
continue.

�Then you met someone. It was a man, but I couldn�t see who it
was. For some reason, you guys started
fighting. It was a very exciting battle!�

�Um...so who won?�

Shun tried to stifle a giggle. �The other guy! Now hurry and get dressed. Shiryu and Mu are sparring together in the
gym, and we have to go watch!�

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The Aries Saint�s long, thick braid
whipped out like a mauve serpent�s tail as he spun around swiftly. His back was turned to the Dragon for a split
second, but it was all the time Shiryu needed to discreetly slip two shuriken
out from under his black wristbands. Mu
had no chance to react as the Bronze Saint flicked the small, deadly weapons
lightning fast at his unprotected head.
A tiny red gash appeared on Mu�s right earlobe as the shuriken slammed
into the wall behind him, sending wood splinters into the air on impact. Mu reached up and touched the cut, feeling
the proof of blood. He moved to the wall
and pulled out one of the imbedded throwing stars. He turned it over in his hand, studying the
round, dragon�s claw shaped projectile.
The Aries Saint touched his thumb to one of the razor-sharp points,
pricking his skin in the process. He
placed the tip of his thumb between his lips and licked the droplet of crimson
away. Mu looked across the gymnasium at
Shiryu who waited in fighting stance, panting lightly.

�I never saw it coming!� Mu
announced with a mix of admiration and uncertainty. They had been practicing several different
fighting styles together for nearly two hours, but the use of the shuriken had
been the first overtly threatening move Shiryu had made toward Mu.

The Dragon slid forward a step,
squinting slightly, and noticed the cut on Mu�s perfect seashell ear. The raven-haired boy swallowed nervously as
immediate regret filled his heart.

�Nice aim too. An inch or two lower and you would have
opened my jugular.� Mu paused, tilting
his head inquisitively. �Is there
anything wrong?�

Shiryu had been on edge ever since
Seiya had left the mansion with such finality, and he was having difficulty
maintaining a link with Hyoga�s Cosmo.
It faded in and out like a weak radio signal. He could not detect any imminent danger with
the Russian boy, but Shiryu was nevertheless concerned. The Gold Saint might have excused Dragon�s
rash behavior if he explained that his unwarranted attack was due to the stress
he was feeling over Seiya and Hyoga, which was quite true, but he could not
explain why his frustration was directed at Mu.
Shiryu could never admit that he was also seething with intense
jealousy. He had felt Ikki and Mu burn
their Cosmo together in the woods, and it hurt the Dragon Saint deeply. Although he wished to remain faithful to his
love for Seiya, he also did not want Mu to be with anyone else. Shame colored his cheeks as he fixed his eyes
on the floor, unable to meet the Aries Saint�s concerned gaze.

Almost nonchalantly, Mu threw the
shuriken back at Shiryu. It struck the
wood floor with a solid thump, landing at perfect ninety-degree angle directly
between the Bronze Saint�s feet. Mu was
experiencing some of the same agitation as the Dragon. He too was worried about the Cygnus Saint,
but there was something even more dark and ominous growing at the back of Mu�s
mind. It was like a long forgotten
nightmare that suddenly found its way to the front of his thoughts. He could not pinpoint the threat, but it
disturbed him greatly.

�I don�t like games, Shiryu,� he
warned. �If you have something on your
mind, I�d appreciate a little honesty instead of this childish display.�

Shiryu opened his mouth to respond,
but was interrupted by the noisy arrival of Ikki and Shun. The Andromeda Saint burst through the
gymnasium door like a whirlwind, chattering loudly while stuffing bits of
banana and cake into his mouth. Ikki
trailed close behind, silently and patiently waiting for his hyperactive brother
to wind down. The older boy was not
ready to see Mu so soon after their wanton tryst, but he also did not want to
risk any unnecessary questions from his younger brother. Shun suddenly stopped as he noticed the two
combatants standing at either end of the long workout room, staring solemnly at
each other.

�K'so! It looks like we missed all the action! I really wanted to see them exchange some
moves,� the obviously disheartened boy remarked.

Mu smiled broadly at them. �Hello, fellows! Sorry to disappoint you, but I think Shiryu
and I are finished...for now.� He
glanced over at the Dragon who stood in sullen, guilty silence. �Right, Shiryu?�

The Bronze Saint nodded once and
bowed humbly at the group.

�Come on, kids. Let�s go get something cool to drink.� Mu steered Ikki and Shun back to the
doorway. �I believe the Dragon Saint
needs to be alone for awhile. He has some
thinking to do.�

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hyoga stared in anger and confusion
at the drenched woman standing near the glacier�s edge. There was no denying it. She was indeed an exact double for his
beloved mama. He scrambled to his feet,
brushing off bits of snow from the back of his pants.

�I don�t know who or what you are,
but you are not my mother!� he shouted.
�Now leave this place immediately, or suffer the consequences!� He closed his eyes and breathed in
deeply. His body began to shimmer with a
ghostly blue-white aura as the Cygnus Cloth appeared and wrapped itself around
the Bronze Saint in a brilliant metallic shell.
Hyoga stood defensively, ready to battle the imposter.

The woman seemed unperturbed. She displayed a small, curious smile. �How festive!� she remarked
sarcastically. �Don�t you feel a little
silly dressed that way?�

Hyoga ignored her jibes, but noted
that she spoke Russian. �Who are you,
and what do you want? Where is my
mother�s body?� he demanded furiously.

She sighed in exasperation and gazed
up at the darkening sky. �I should have
known this would require a bit more finesse...� the woman muttered to
herself. She shook her head vigorously,
and in a sparkling cascade of dewdrop light, transformed from a dripping wet
apparition into a stunning vision of beauty.
Instantly dried, her bright blond hair reshaped itself into an upswept
coif. Dozens of soft ringlets crowned
her head, embellished with chains of delicate golden beads. Her dress had also changed, becoming a long
white tunic that draped down to her bare feet.
A solid gold clasp in the shape of a stylized sun held the gown securely
at her left shoulder. Bedecked in
glistening gems and gold jewelry from head to toe, the woman with the face of
Hyoga�s mother truly looked like a Greek goddess.

The Bronze Saint remained unimpressed. �I�ve seen better tricks at carnival
sideshows!� he snarled. Hyoga was
growing impatient, and it was time for the charade to end. Yet...there was something about her voice,
and her eyes. �Could she really be...?�
No, such a fantasy was unthinkable.

�Now, vyedma, who are you? I will not ask again!�

She breathed out a warm, white puff
of air. �You know who I am, Cygnus. My name is Natassia...and I am your
mother!� She thought for a moment. �Perhaps this will convince you that I�m
telling the truth...� She raised her
hand in a graceful gesture, as if she were holding an invisible goblet. In a dazzling shower of sparks, a golden
cithara appeared in her grasp. She held
the small instrument in her left arm and began to lightly pluck the strings.

Hyoga cocked his head to one side,
straining to hear the soft music as it drifted across the ice. The song was so familiar...

Then, he remembered. It was from Puccini�s Madama Butterfly. He struggled to recall the name of the
tune. Of course, the Humming
Chorus! How could he have
forgotten? Hyoga had heard the melody
hundreds of times when he was a small child, lying half asleep in his bed late
at night. There was the faintest echo of
something dark and disturbing about it, but Hyoga was more concerned about one
clear fact that broke through his uncertainty like the eye of a hurricane. Since he had never told anyone about the
memory, there was only one person who could have known about the song...

�Mama?� he whispered, almost afraid to
say it aloud. Hyoga suddenly bolted
across the ice toward Natassia, throwing his arms around her. �Mama!�
His voice was muffled as he buried his face in her warm breast. Tears of joy brimmed in his robin�s egg blue
eyes and spilled down his winter blushed cheeks. Years of sorrow and loneliness melted away
with each wracking sob. Natassia stood
granite still. Hyoga looked up into her face,
smiling. Completely overwhelmed and
blinded by emotion, he had failed to notice the cool, indifferent expression in
her eyes...or that his mother had not returned his embrace. Hyoga sniffled and wiped at his tears with
the back of his hand as he tried to compose himself. �Mama, I�ve missed you so much! I have so many questions...so many things to
tell you! Please, how this is
possible? You...� He stopped, unable to utter the word.

�Died? Well, that�s true.� She broke out of his desperate hold and moved
away from him, tossing aside the solid gold cithara without a thought. It clattered noisily against the ice as it
landed some distance away. She studied
the boy with detached amusement. �It
seems the Foundation has amazing techniques of persuasion. You�ve created a wonderful fantasy about me,
child.�

Confusion played over Hyoga�s face
as his heart and mind struggled to comprehend the cryptic remark. �I...I don�t understand!�

�Hyoga, I�ve always despised
you. Surely you remember?�

Natassia�s words struck him like a
physical blow. The Cygnus Saint shook
his head slowly, his brow furrowed. What
was she talking about? His memories were
full of warm and loving visions of his mother.
Hyoga could not place a number on the times he had snuggled in her lap
as she read fairytales to him in front of a comforting fire. But the song Natassia had played continued to
trouble him. It seemed to raise alarms
within him instead of easing his doubts.
Hyoga actually felt as though he hated it for some reason, and that it
had been a source of misery to him long ago.
Then, like a switch being turned on, a torrent of long buried images
flooded his mind. Hyoga had indeed heard
the Humming Chorus through the thin walls of their home in Anadyr...as
his mother entertained her many lovers night after night. Sudden ghost feelings of pain and torture
ripped through his soul. He had suffered
terribly at the hands of his own mother and her seemingly endless stream of
male companions. Hyoga wrapped his arms
around himself protectively as the vivid, unsavory recollections crept back
into his consciousness, running through his mind like a horror film. The initial shock of it felt as though Seiya
had pummeled him full-force with Pegasus Ryu Sei Ken, but as hard as he tried,
Hyoga could not force away the memories of daily beatings and sexual abuse that
had been administered to him by a few of his mother�s more predatory
boyfriends. Hyoga�s skin began to burn
in psychosomatic reaction to images of lit cigarettes being extinguished
against his young flesh. He could not
hide from the truth any longer. His
childhood with Natassia had been unimaginably brutal, and more frightening that
any hardships he had experienced at the Graude Foundation.

�Why?� he managed in a small voice.

She turned her back to the boy, and
stared out at the black sea. �I was well
on my way to a very lucrative modeling career when I unfortunately found out I
was pregnant...with you. My family was
devoutly Catholic, so abortion was out of the question. I was forced to give up my dreams. My life was over. I was chained to you forever...and I resented
you for it. When you were 4 years old,
the Graude Foundation contacted me. They
wanted you, and since I had no use for a clinging brat, we struck a bargain. It was the perfect opportunity to rid myself
of you once and for all. However, there
was one condition. I personally had to
escort you to Tokyo. It seemed a small price to pay to get my life
back, but apparently the Foundation had other ideas. I suppose it�s irrelevant at this
point. Perhaps they did not want to pay
me after all, or they were just trying to eliminate any witnesses. In any case, the ship did not sink by
accident.�

Revulsion contorted Hyoga�s face,
but Natassia was weary of his naivety.
�Oh, come now! You don�t actually
believe the recruitment of Saints is left up to chance? How ridiculous! The selection of candidates and the places
assigned for training has always been a well-orchestrated process. The methods may seem a bit extreme, but it�s
been done that way for centuries. You
were all carefully chosen, Hyoga. True
Saints are born, not made. In other
words, the children of the Graude Foundation were the offspring of
Saints...including you.�

Realization burned in Hyoga�s mind
like poison. �My father
wasn�t...Mitsumasa Kido?�

Natassia tossed her head back and
laughed. It was a harsh and bitter
sound. �You must be joking! Look at me!
Do you seriously think I would have sex with such a disgusting man? He was nothing more than an easily
manipulated old fool who was led to believe he had spawned a hundred
heirs. The truth is, Kido had no
children of his own.�

�Then who was my father?�

Natassia was growing bored. She adjusted the gold bangles on her
wrists. �Oh, what does it matter?� she
asked with obvious disinterest. �Why
can�t you just be satisfied with the knowledge that your veins are free of Kido
blood?�

�I have to know!�

�If you insist,� she sighed,
glancing at him sideways through long, thick lashes. �You actually knew him quite well.�

�What?� he whispered.

�You�ll be pleased to know that your
father was the Crystal Saint.�

His eyes grew wide. �You...you�re lying!� he stammered in
disbelief. Hyoga couldn�t breathe. He knelt onto the ice and closed his eyes. �This can�t be...� he moaned.

The elegant woman watched him for a
moment, then moved gracefully toward him.
She sat down next to the boy, heedless of his torment. Natassia seemed to be enjoying herself, as if
she were relaxing on a sunny beach instead of perched at the edge of a glacier
in near darkness. �Of course, then I
knew him as Nicolai. I can�t seem to
recall his last name though. How
odd! Anyway, it�s a shame you killed
him. He was a wonderful lover!�

Sudden anger flared inside
Hyoga. He leaped to his feet and clamped
his hands over his ears, trying to block out her voice. �Shut up!
Shut up!� Then, like a doomed man
on the gallows awaiting execution, one morbid thought pulled the Bronze Saint�s
world out from under him. The frozen
carcass at the bottom of the sea he had mourned over year after year had been
more of a mother to him than the shallow, cold-hearted Natassia could have ever
been in real life. It was the Crystal
Saint who had given him the picture perfect, false memories of his mama. In truth, the only love he had received when
he was a child had come from his master.
Hyoga was wracked by a tumult of contradicting emotions. He lowered his hands and closed his
eyes. �Did he...my father...know who I
was? Did he know I was his son?� he
asked dejectedly, but with a glimmer of hope.

�Doubtful...but I suppose anything
is possible. He may have suspected
eventually.� She crossed her arms and
studied his forlorn expression. �You
know, I really thought you�d have a better sense of humor about this entire
situation. It appears you take after
your father more than I realized...he was a bit too serious for my taste as
well.�

Hyoga loathed her for mocking the
memory of his beloved sensei. He glared
at her, hatred seething in his heart.

Natassia looked up at him. �So you committed patricide...you�re not the
only Bronze Saint with dirty hands.�

�What�s that supposed to mean?�

�I know many secrets about those you
refer to as your brothers...and Saori Athena.�

�Tell me what you know!�

She rose to her feet. �I only have time to divulge one juicy
tidbit, then I really must go. The
Andromeda Saint...Shun, is it?�

Hyoga nodded. Trepidation churned in his belly.

�There was a reason why Shun was
originally selected to receive his training on Death Queen Island. A girl named Esmeralda lived there. She was his twin sister. If Ikki hadn�t interfered, it certainly would
have been wonderful incentive for the boy to win the Phoenix Cloth, don�t you
think?�

Hyoga stood in stunned silence,
mouth agape. Shun was meant to be the
Phoenix Saint?

�It�s too bad the little wench was
killed by her own father. He was
actually quite fond of her. Guilty was
not quite the cold-hearted monster many of you believed. He must have felt it was rather fitting to be
executed by Ikki.�

�But...if Shun is Esmeralda�s twin
brother...then that means Ikki...�
Hyoga could not continue. The
truth of Shun and Ikki�s past was as painful to the Cygnus Saint as his own.

�It would seem you and the Phoenix
Saint Ikki have quite a bit in common,� Natassia smirked. �Besides your feelings for the boy, of
course!�

The woman had not been lying. She did know much about them. �Damn you!
Why are you doing this?�

She breathed in deeply, closing her
eyes momentarily. �It�s in the air,
child! It�s all around us! Can�t you sense it? Your world of pretty, candy-coated dreams is
over. It�s time to open your eyes! A new era is approaching! �

�That�s no answer!� Hyoga shouted,
almost pleading.

Natassia gazed up at the rapidly
brightening stars. �I do not have time
to stand here and gossip with you about inconsequential matters.�

�You�ve made it quite clear how you
feel about me. I know you don�t care,
but this is my life!� Hyoga lamented.
�Why did you come back at all? Why
couldn�t you have just let me be?�

�Well, I really do enjoy a good
laugh!�

Hyoga was appalled by the notion
that the woman actually found his misery somehow amusing. �How can you say such a thing?� he demanded.

�You have to admit it is rather
funny that you believed I was dead for so many years! It was all I could do to keep a straight face
while I laid in that ship, watching you grieve for me !� She giggled callously. �Now I really mustn�t tarry here any
longer. Do-svidaniye!� A yellow-white aura shimmered around her
body, lifting her from the ice as her solid form began to fade.

�Wait! You can�t leave now!� Hyoga ran toward Natassia, reaching out to
grab her, but his hand passed through her as if she were nothing more than a
spectral mist.

Her voice was faint and hollow as
she slowly floated upward and disappeared from view. �I have nothing more to give you,
Cygnus. My master calls me...�

�Come back!� he cried out in
desperation, but his mother had left him...again. The only sound that met his ears was the
crack of distant ice floes breaking across the dark, glacial sea. The biting, polar air enveloped him and
seeped into his bones, gripping his heart like the hands of an unseen enemy. Hyoga turned his gaze heavenward and briefly
searched for a hopeful answer in the cosmic lights, then berated himself for
even considering such nonsense. There
was nothing in heaven that could help him.
The Russian boy shuffled forward blindly, tumbling head first into a
thick, solid snowdrift. He lay
motionless, uncaring and unfeeling. He
could not bear to think of his mama anymore.
She was now completely gone from his heart and soul. All that remained was a pale shadow of her
somewhere deep inside, and the love that had once given him so much strength
had vanished...and he had no desire to resurrect it. The thought of simply returning to the
insular world of the Bronze Saints disturbed Hyoga. He could never reveal the secret of their
bloodline to his brothers, but didn�t they deserve to know? Conflict tore at him like knives into his
flesh. Hyoga�s conscience had already
been bathed in the blood of patricide, and it was a horror he could never
inflict on any of the Bronze Saints...especially Shun and Ikki. The Cygnus simply could not convince himself
the human race was worth causing so much pain to his brothers...and he could
never face them again with the secret of their past weighing against him. The young Russian couldn�t shake the gut-wrenching
feeling that he had betrayed many others in his selfish quest for victory. The Crystal Saint, whom Hyoga would have
gladly called father, had died by the Cygnus Saint�s hands. Even his boyhood friend Isaac, who long ago
saved Hyoga�s life near the site of Natassia�s false underwater grave, had
eventually succumbed to his ceaseless desire for triumph. After Poseidon�s destruction, Hyoga retrieved
Kraken Isaac�s body and had it flown to the boy�s homeland of Finland for
burial. Innocent young Jakob suddenly
invaded his thoughts. What had become of
the child and the other inhabitants of Anadyr? Whatever their fate, Hyoga suspected it must
somehow be connected to the Bronze Saints...and Athena. Since it was inevitable they would be called
upon to once again save the world, the Cygnus wondered how many more friends,
or fathers, would have to die as he and his brothers marched along their
righteous path to glory. The faces of
those he had vanquished and the gods he had helped defeat haunted him. The Bronze Saints had all been trained to be
cold-blooded killers, which made them no better than their so-called
enemies. Who were they to decide what
was best for mankind?

A slow, sullen anger crept through
Hyoga. He felt like a blind man who had
suddenly regained his sight only to find his entire world had been a lie. The deceit that had been perpetrated against
him was unconscionable. It had started
at his birth with Natassia, then his
training with the Graude Foundation, and finally his relationship with
Shun. Everything and everyone Hyoga had
known and trusted had turned against him.
It was then he noticed the nexus with his brothers had somehow been
severed. He was so accustomed to the
ever-present sensation that its absence was like a missing limb. Hyoga felt terribly weak, incredibly cold,
and for the first time in his short life, utterly alone. He was tired of being a Saint...tired of
fighting...and tired of his cursed, miserable life. How peaceful it would be to simply lie down
in the soft snow bank and wait for the blackness and comfort of eternal
sleep. The wind buffeted over him, as if
checking his body for signs of life.
Hyoga stirred, pushing his shoulders up from the snow. The Cygnus Cloth, only moments ago a
protector that he had worn like a second skin, now weighed him down like a lead
coffin. He pried off the heavy
swan-shaped headpiece and let it drop onto the frozen ground. It landed on the hard, white earth with a
muted thud. He paused for a moment, then
piece-by-piece peeled off the ice-cold armor from his chest, arms and
legs. He scanned the metal carcass
strewn across the snow. It gleamed
luminously in the darkness, but without his Cosmo to fuel it, the shining Cloth
began to slowly fade from sight. He
watched numbly as it disappeared, returning to its home and resting place, the
Cygnus Box. A sudden sadness ached in
chest and pooled in his eyes.

�Go on!� he thought angrily. �Just hurry and
go!� He felt like shouting, but he
could not find his voice. Instead, he
wrapped his arms around his shivering chest and closed his eyes. A few tears slid down his icy cheeks,
immediately freezing to his skin. He
nearly laughed in bitter realization.
Hyoga was completely unprotected, and would soon perish in the
unforgiving Siberian elements. He had
died as a Saint more than once, but there would be no returning this time...and
no angel-eyed boy to pull him back from death�s door.

�Perhaps that would be best,� he
thought.

His hands and feet had already lost
all feeling, and soon his arms and legs would follow. Something tickled lightly against his
skin. He reached up with some effort and
groped for the ever-present crucifix that hung from his neck. He yanked hard on the rosary, breaking the
chain and flinging it as far away as he could manage. Sorrow overwhelmed Hyoga and he opened his
mouth, letting the rage, sadness and frustration pour out of him in a long
aching howl. It lifted and carried up on
the dancing winds, piercing the bitter cold air and echoing for miles
throughout the peaks and valleys. From
far and near, the call of native timber wolves answered Hyoga. Their ethereal, mournful howls sang to him,
prompted by his anguished cry. He
settled back once again into the comforting cold embrace of the yielding white
earth. Yes, this is where he wanted to
stay, where his life as a Saint had begun and where it would now end.

�Let the wolves lick my bones
clean.� He felt an odd gladness at
the idea of giving something back to this place, of giving his body to sustain
the creatures of the land he had grown to love.
He almost smiled at the thought of some small rodents or birds perhaps
someday finding shelter in his empty skull.
Maybe his life would not be such a waste after all. He remained still, his skin growing rapidly
colder, iciness seeping deep into his muscles.
His breathing was becoming painful and he wondered how much longer he
would remain conscious. Then he heard
it. Shhhh, shhhh, shhhh. It was the sound of his own breath turning
into ice crystals as it met the freezing air.
In Siberia, it was known as the whisper
of stars, and to hear it meant the end was near. His thoughts began to blur, catapulting the
past and present into a whirlwind of hallucinations. The faces of his brothers, the battles won
and lost spun in a frenzied kaleidoscope.
Gradually, the images became more and more difficult to focus on. A myriad grayness began to settle in,
replacing the jumble of memories. The
gray darkened to black. He could no
longer feel if he was taking air into his aching lungs. Hyoga�s mind and body were almost completely
numb. The blackness that had enveloped
his senses began to break away. Hyoga could only sense the beating of his heart
as it slowed and struggled to beat one
last time. A tiny shard of Cosmo
protested, trying to flare once again, but it too faded, draining out of him
like the dwindling flame of a candle.

Hyoga�s final thoughts were of his
brothers and Shun�s brilliant blue eyes full of tears. Snatches of
red, green, pink and gold floated upward, along with bits of his
consciousness. It was beautiful,
peaceful. He had become stardust.

Delicate white flakes drifted down
from the dark sky, blanketing the still, lifeless body. Even the wind had ceased its playful tugging,
as if it too realized the boy was gone.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Sergey was roused by sudden,
chilling wolf song that seemed to come from everywhere, and the soft sound of
ice crystals pelting against twisted metal.
He did not know how long he had been unconscious. The sweet, acrid smell of leaking fuel
invaded his nostrils, and the taste of copper filled his mouth as he mentally
assessed his injuries. A deep gash on
the side of his head spilled a crimson mask over his face, and his left shoulder
felt as though it had been torn from its socket. As he attempted to disentangle his limbs from
the helicopter wreckage, sudden searing pain ripped through him. He gritted his teeth and cursed, averting his
eyes from the grisly, jagged bone that jutted through the bloody tear in his
pants. Sergey unhooked his worn leather
belt and secured a makeshift tourniquet above his knee. He was in desperate need of medical attention,
but at least he was alive. The Soviet
military that had been monitoring the area for the past several months would
have no doubt detected the crash, but he could not pin his hopes on immediate
rescue. In the near-pitch darkness, he
blindly rummaged with shaking fingers through the small knot of debris. Although there was precious little to salvage
from the mangled craft, Newcomb�s thick coat had miraculously escaped complete
destruction. Several large tears had
separated many of the seams, and it was covered with frozen bits of the dead
man�s flesh and entrails, but Sergey pulled the garment onto his shivering
frame without hesitation, pushing the wool-trimmed hood up over his head. He dug into the side pockets, found a pair of
warm ski gloves, and yanked them onto his numbed hands. Then, holding his breath, he carefully extricated
himself from the demolished chopper.
Already exhausted, Sergey lay on his back near the wreck, sucking in
huge gulps of achingly cold air. He
optimistically studied the serene constellations in the black, clarion
sky. The pilot could easily navigate his
way through the brutal territory if he kept his bearings and his wits about
him. Much to his surprise, he had
apparently flown farther east than he realized.
He had managed to clear the mountain range, which lay to the west. If he followed a steady course southward, he
just might find Anadyr by sunup. The extreme cold had slowed his blood loss
and numbed the excruciating pain somewhat, but Sergey knew he would quickly die
if he did not keep moving. His instinct
to survive took over, and by sheer will, he began dragging his battered body
and shattered leg across the bleak, icy terrain.

His progress was agonizingly
slow. A flurry of incomprehensible
thoughts assaulted his sanity as he paused several yards away from the crash
site to survey the frightful remains of his helicopter one last time. The carcass of the machine had collapsed upon
impact, resembling the crushed remnants of a
charcoal-colored eggshell. The
long, dark rotor blades had snapped and scattered like dried twigs across the
icy landscape. Diaphanous wisps of steam
drifted upward from the still scalding engine, but quickly dissipated in the
arctic breeze. Yes, he had been very
lucky indeed. As he continued his
sluggish crawl along a southern path, Sergey began to wonder about the
creature, despite his desperate efforts to turn the hellish thoughts away. Perhaps the monstrous thing had been the real
reason for the government�s clandestine interest in the area. He trembled as the fresh image of Professor
Newcomb�s gruesome transformation replayed in his mind. He prayed the hideous demon had met its
demise after leaping from the cockpit of the helicopter�but somehow, Sergey
knew the Bone-Eater had survived.

It seemed he had been traveling for
hours, but the pilot tried to remain focused on the rhythmic crunching of his
hands plunging into the solid packed snow...until another noise startled
him. A low, rumbling thunder resonated
across the darkened wasteland. The
Russian immediately recognized it as the sound of a glacier breaking apart and
falling into the sea. Sergey�s heart
sank as he realized he had been moving east instead of south. He was near the Gulf of Anadyr,
but how far away the town lay, he could not tell. At least by following the gulf�s edge, he
would certainly not miss Anadyr. As he silently cursed and changed direction,
his hand brushed against something solid that was neither snow nor ice. Sergey squinted in the darkness, gasping in
surprise as the faint outline of a human form and a shock of bright yellow hair
appeared beneath a thin layer of fresh-fallen snow. He struggled to turn the body over, noting
that the limbs were still pliable, which meant whoever it was could not have
been dead for very long. He gently
smoothed away the ice crystals that clung to the face. The pilot was immediately overcome by an odd
sadness, for even in the absence of light, he could clearly see it was
beautiful young teenaged boy. Who was
the lad and why had he been left to die unprotected and alone in the cruel Siberian
wasteland? Sergey shook his head,
knowing that he could not take the body with him.

�Do not worry,� he silently
spoke to the dead boy. �When I find
help, I will let them know you are here�if I make it that far.�

He had moved only a
few feet from the body when pure, instant fear slammed adrenaline into his
chest with jackhammer force. His
breathing was ragged and heavy, but he could still hear the approach of the
hideous creature. It leaped over the
craggy, snow-covered slopes with ease, effortlessly covering several yards with
each bounce. Sergey whimpered, his eyes
wide with panic. Desperate to escape, he
clawed at the frozen earth, flailing uselessly like a fish on dry land. The Bone-Eater landed with ground shaking
force in front of him, blocking his way.
It was even more frightening in the cold blackness of the night. The terrified Russian rolled onto his side,
trying to push away from the thing, but it reached out with black, oily
tentacles and grabbed his wounded leg, pulling him forward. Sergey howled in agony as broken bones
scraped and splintered.

�Stop! Please!
What do you want with me?� he screamed, pleading to the creature.

Clear, syrupy effusion
dripped from its gaping, black maw as it spoke.
�What do you think I want, human?�

Sergey covered his
face with trembling hands as the relentless pain rolled through him. Then, without warning, the Bone-Eater
inexplicably released its grip. The
pilot felt certain he had completely lost his mind as he heard above the cutting
winds a delicate voice address the salivating monstrosity.

�Bone-Eater!�

It was a warning, and
the thing flinched as it retreated from the injured man. Though his vision was failing, Sergey stared
awestruck at the otherworldly being that stood between him and the unearthly
beast. A figure had appeared from
nowhere�a petite, shining female whose entire body seemed to be enveloped in a
silver membrane. Even her eyes had an
argent coating.

�So we finally meet!�
the creature answered, licking its lips and displaying a cadaverous grin. �You know why we�ve come, don�t you?�

The radiant girl shrugged
dismissively and brushed back a stray lock of quicksilver hair. �You�ve had enough fun for one day, and your
time here is nearly over...unless you can find another skin...� she responded
quietly. Through his delirium, Sergey
noted that she spoke English, and in the iridescent glow of the girl�s body, he
could see that the Bone-Eater�s flesh had begun to crack and peel away like the
paint on a weathered old house. It
looked down at its own repulsive form and yelped, panic-stricken. The creature once again turned its hungry,
frantic, obsidian eyes toward the distraught pilot.

�No, you�ll not have this one,� the
girl said firmly, standing her ground.

It whined loudly and
pawed at the ice beneath its feet in anger and frustration then bounded away
like a frightened monkey, in search of another victim.

The small female bent and picked up
the pilot as easily as a rag doll.
Sergey knew he must have been dreaming as he tried to see her clearly,
but she remained an incandescent blur.
His voice was nearly gone, and the words that tumbled out were choked
and raspy.

�You�are�military?� he croaked in
Russian.

She seemed to understand, but said
nothing.

�Are�you�an�angel?�

She laughed softly and shook her
head.

�Please�the boy�� He tried to point in the direction of the
body he had found half-buried in the snow.
The fulgent maiden tilted her head slightly, peering into the darkness. She carried Sergey to the spot where the dead
boy lay, and placed the man gently on the ground. She knelt down beside the body and placed a
graceful hand against the boy�s cheek.
The pilot was almost certain he had seen a glimmer of recognition in her
enormous, auroral eyes. She then reached
over and touched Sergey�s shoulder. He
gratefully lost consciousness as all three were consumed in a blinding
whirlpool of white light.

************************************************************************

Continued in Chapter
Three�
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The Blackmail of Souls - Book One