Heart of Tartarus

by Lucy Smoke

  "Tanks are obviously involved in Kida's disappearance," Thayer says. "They attacked us outside of the Architect's place and trashed Cass's place."

  "What do you suppose they were looking for at your pod?" Noaz stops and asks me.

  I shrug, rubbing my temples. "I have no clue. We don't normally keep anything of real value—there's really no point. If we ever did have anything that we were worried about safekeeping, Kida would usually take it somewhere else."

  "So, there is a possibility that there was something they were looking for, something of Kida's that she could have stored elsewhere? Where would she take it?" Noaz presses.

  "I don't know. We don't have anything like that right now. She never told me where she stored special things." I notice Thayer and Levi both giving me sidelong looks. "If I ever asked to see it, she'd bring it home. But I never went with her when she stored stuff," I quickly explain.

  Noaz sighs and crouches down in front of me. He runs a long-fingered hand through his short dark hair. It springs back in a spiky disarray that would be more appropriate on someone younger and much less serious.

  "Cassandra." My name on his lips passes through so lowly, I almost can't hear despite how close we are. I think it's the first time he's ever actually said my name. "It's really important that we know where she might take something that the Tanks want. Whatever it is, it can't be good if they want it. Anything in their hands becomes dangerous. They don't care if they hurt people and they don't care who they hurt."

  "I know," I say. "I know more than anyone."

  Noaz leans away from me, eyebrows drawn down in surprise. I turn my face to Thayer.

  "You remember when I said that I used to live with my dad and my brother?" He nods. "My dad was a Tank."

  His eyes widen when it dawns on him what this could mean. I comprehend at the same time and we both turn back to Noaz.

  "Do you think," I begin, "that maybe what they're looking for isn't a what, but a who?" I suck in a breath with surprising calm. "Do you think that they might be looking for me?"

  Noaz frowns, but I can tell he's considering the possibility. He stands abruptly and addresses the room. "We can't rule out any possibility just yet," he states. "I'll contact Vincent for an update and I'll ask him what he thinks our next plan of action should be. For now..." he glances around the room, "we'll have to act as natural as possible."

  "What about Kida?" I ask. "She's still out there; she's still missing."

  Noaz shakes his head, but Thayer is talking as well. "We can't forget about what the Architect told us. I mean, there's every chance he could be crazy, but I believe him. That's got to take precedence as well, right?"

  "I will tell Vincent everything you've told me here today, and Cassandra," Noaz shoots me a look. "Kida is still one of our top priorities, don't worry." He turns back to the rest of the group. "We can't go out and start asking questions of just anyone, especially not about what the Architect told us. That could cause a panic."

  I sit there, fuming with helplessness. I know I can't do anything to help Kida now, but that doesn't make me feel like any less of a failure.

  "There has to be something I can do," I say. "Anything. I can't just sit here and wait."

  Noaz sighs, rubbing his fingers along the bridge of his nose. He pinches the area between his eyes for a brief second, thinking, before he releases it. "You can go with Levi and Aaron tonight," he decides. "Levi has another fight and I want you to talk to Morgan."

  I bite my tongue to keep from denying the command. I understand exactly why Morgan did what he did, but that still doesn't mean I'm ready to see him. Any complaints I make, however, I'm afraid will see me sitting right here between Thayer and another of the guys as we await further orders from Noaz. It's strange to be part of a team for a change, to hold my tongue and make compromises. I'm not all that sure I like it. When Thayer's hand lands on my shoulder and I turn to see his look of quiet understanding, I'm not all that sure I don't either.

  "Fine." I’ll agree to Noaz's plan… for now.

  I guess I just have to call in a few guilt trip answers from Morgan. It's either that or beat the information out of him. After all, information is key and the more I have, the closer I am to finding Kida.

  Right now, that's really all I can focus on. Hopefully Noaz and Vincent can figure out something about what Archie said. While it could have been his paranoia talking, I highly doubt I'll be that lucky.

  When Noaz leaves, the rest of the group scatters as well. Aaron and Levi head into the kitchen to make something to eat while Haze heads back to his room with the hopes of putting some kind of salve on his bruises to make them fade faster. Thayer turns to me.

  "Maybe you should try to take a nap," he suggests. "You can use my room if you want."

  I'm not tired, but I am weary, so I simply nod my head and let him lead me back to the room I first woke up in several days before. It feels like a lifetime has passed since I first met Thayer and Haze at Lionheart's.

  Thayer gestures to the bed. "It's clean. I put fresh sheets on it this morning," he says. "You can just come get me or one of the guys if you need anything."

  "Thayer, I slept on your couch last night," I say. "I'll be fine. I don't need anything."

  "Yeah, right. Well, if you want you can sleep in my bed until Noaz says it’s fine for you to go back home." He shrugs, stretching his shoulders out and looking around. "I can sleep on the couch, it's no big deal."

  "I'll be fine," I assure him. "Go grab something to eat with Levi and Aaron. I'm just gonna lay down for a bit."

  He stops stretching and fixes me with a look before he nods. "Alright, just come get us if you need anything."

  "I will," I say, and he closes the door behind him.

  For a moment, I stand next to his bed, a comfy looking spring mattress bed a lot like the one I have in my pod. Sitting on it, I bounce to test the weight before laying back to stare at the curved ceiling. The same curved ceiling I have at home. Everything about the pod is the same. All pods are exactly the same. They were built with the same materials, the same measurements, the same everything. So much sameness it can cause a person to go mad.

  I curl over on my side, remembering when Kida and I used to camp out on the rooftop of our pod complex. During the summers, when the air was hot and sticky, we wouldn't bring anything but a sheet to lie on. And in the winters, we'd huddle together beneath the stars in loads of blankets.

  Despite the curved and circular settings inside pod units, the outside of the buildings are square cut and easy to climb. I asked Kida once why she thought they made it that way and she told me that people who lived on Earth used to be really superstitious and paranoid in general. Some would make hidden rooms in their homes in case someone tried to break in and hurt them. They would all carry communicators just in case something happened to them. I’d never heard of such a thing. Everyone carrying communicators. How ridiculously foolish and impractical. Everyone buying such expensive items.

  I personally think the curvature of the pod units is so that the plumbing and wires can go through the remaining spaces. But Kida always had an interesting answer to everything.

  She has—I remind myself. Not had. She's still alive somewhere.

  Thinking of Kida and her crazy ideas and lying on the rooftop of our complex reminds me of the last time we camped out there and the strange story she told me. I close my eyes and think of it and somehow, I find myself falling into a dream that's more memory than fantasy.

  "Cassandra is such a beautiful name." Kida's side brushes mine as we lie on the rooftop of our pod complex staring into the vast skies hovering miles and miles above us. Some nights that same sky seems so far away, but on nights like tonight, when the clouds have cleared away, it feels like we could just reach out and brush our fingers against the stars, sink our fingers into the pool of the universe.

  "I think my mom gave it to me," I hear myself say. "I know my dad probably would have called me 'girl' forever if she hadn't
."

  "You don't remember anything about her?" It's an age-old question. The one she's asked me a few times and unfortunately, each time I have the same answer.

  "I remember her calling my name a couple of times," I say, "but that's it."

  It's a faded, blurry memory; so unfocused that sometimes I can't tell if it's even a real memory at all or something that my mind simply supplied using another woman's voice and another person's name replaced with my own. Or maybe it isn’t replaced with my own. Maybe my name isn't even really my name.

  "I think she named you Cassandra for a reason," Kida whispers into the night.

  Curious, I turn on my side to face her, resting my cheek on her shoulder as I peer up at her pretty face. Her cheeks are wide, her lips bow-shaped. Slender eyes peer down at me as well before she returns her gaze to the vast space before us.

  "Why do you say that?" I ask.

  Kida smiles, her soft lips puffing up as she tries to keep from doing so. I don't know why she always tries not to smile when it's obvious she wants to, but I find it cute. The way her lips curl down for a moment while she tries to fight the urge is so odd, it reminds me of her when I spot strangers doing the same. Even though I admire her resistance to amusement or joy, I enjoy it immensely when her smile always breaks through and the fullness always makes my stomach flutter. I don't know how I got so lucky to have her in my life.

  Instead of answering my question, she asks one of her own. "Do you know who else was named Cassandra?"

  I frown, confused by her question. "Probably lots of people," I reply.

  Kida shakes her head. "No. There was someone special named Cassandra. She was a princess."

  "I'm not a princess," I reply, wrapping both of my arms around my middle even as my head rests against her.

  "Cassandra was given an extraordinary ability to tell the future," Kida continues, ignoring my statement.

  I snort. "That might have come in handy today," I say, rubbing the forming bruise on my side where I had gotten punched by a drunk client several hours earlier. The punch had been wild and unexpected. One moment, the client had been so slobberingly intoxicated that he was falling over, the next he was a wild spinning pinwheel like the ones bolted to the tops of pod complexes. It had startled me so much that, at first, I couldn't breathe. Once I had gotten my bearings though, I had kicked the asshole in the balls so hard I doubted he would ever be able to sire children. "It would have been nice to know I should have avoided Mr. Trusso today."

  Kida glances at me, the spark of anger there on my behalf eating into the golden brown of her eyes before she looks back to the sky. I let go of my middle with one hand and reach up to stroke her arm soothingly. After several moments of silence, she continues her story.

  "Cassandra was given the ability by a very powerful God, the Sun God, Apollo."

  "This is a Greek story?" I ask, leaning up.

  "Yes, now hush and let me finish," Kida chides.

  I chuckle but settle back into my spot as she turns on her side until we're both facing each other.

  "Cassandra was given the ability of foresight by Apollo. No one really knows why he did it, but I suspect it was because he was in love with her. He tried to sleep with her not long after and she refused him."

  "Uh oh," I whisper. Even I know, despite the silly tale, a mere princess isn't supposed to refuse a God.

  "Instead of taking away Cassandra's newfound gift, he let her keep it and simply added a new curse. She would know what would befall her friends and family, but no one would ever believe her."

  "What an asshole," I say.

  “Not exactly,” Kida says, reaching up and touching my hair, letting the strands flow over her fingertips. “That’s just one version of the story. Some say that Apollo actually gave Cassandra the ability to tell the future because she promised to kiss him. And when she did, her gift of prophecy showed that she would help Apollo destroy her beloved city of Troy. She was so enraged by her own future that she spit in his face. But once given, the gift could not be returned. So, Apollo instead twisted the ability, and no one ever believed her prophecies.”

  I frown, my brows furrowing. “She kinda got what she deserved if that’s what really happened.”

  Kida chuckled. “Why do you say that?” Though, by her tone, I knew she had an idea of why. I still indulged her.

  “The God couldn’t control what she saw, he could only give her the sight to see it and yet when she got what she asked for and it didn’t seem as great as she had hoped it would be, she took it out on him.”

  Warm skin brushed against mine as Kida’s cheek pressed close to my forehead. “Be careful what you wish for.”

  “Yeah,” I agree. Silence hovers over us, easy, but building until Kida finally breaks it. Her hand grips my chin and tilts my face up so that her golden eyes meet mine, shining suns in the darkness.

  "I think your mom knew you would face a lot of hardship in your life," Kida says. "I think she knew that people might try to take advantage of you and if not you, then you would see others around you being hurt and taken advantage of."

  I flinch at her words, but she doesn't let me look away from her face. Kida cups her hand around my throat, keeping me from looking away.

  "Why would I want to be named after someone such as her?" I ask. “In one version, she’s weak. In another, she’s an ungrateful brat.”

  Kida shakes her head. "I'm not done with the story yet," she says. "After Cassandra was cursed, as I've told you, no one believed her predictions. Still though, they came true. She foretold that her kingdom would fall, and it did. When she was taken away by a man, she foretold that his wife and her lover would kill him, and they did."

  The words wash over me. Even when faced with distrust and distance from everyone around her, she still tried. Even when no one believed her, she still told her prophecies. I don’t know what I would do if I knew something terrible was going to happen and no one believed me when I tried to convince them.

  My eyes begin to burn at the unfairness. I stare at Kida, my nostrils flaring as I try to suck in air and keep the tears at bay. She caresses my cheek with her hand, scooting closer to wrap her arms around me and I bury my face into the synthetic leather of her jacket and smell the breeze in her hair.

  "When Cassandra died, do you know what happened to her?" she asks. I shake my head, unable to form words through the block in my throat. "When Cassandra died she went to a place called the Elysian fields, where only the worthiest of souls rested."

  I pull my face away from her chest and look up at her. "Why?" I ask. "She didn't save anyone. No one believed her."

  Kida fights a smile again, and again she loses the battle and her lips stretch into a beautiful grin. "The point is that she did what she could. Cassandra was given a gift, and in the first version, I told you, I never said anything about her asking for the gift then. She was given it in the hopes that it would make her fall in love with Apollo and when she didn't, he changed it to hurt her. In the second version, she did ask for it, and even though she was the one to hurt Apollo—he got his revenge. He changed it once again. Despite knowing that no one would believe her, she still tried to warn people. She didn't stop trying."

  I lay my head back against her shoulder and contemplate the truth of her words. Stars flicker above our heads and hovercars honk far below us. Her breath brushes against my hairline.

  "You have to promise me something, Cassie. No matter what happens, you'll keep trying. If something ever happens to me, you can't just lay down and give up. Promise me you'll keep trying."

  When I go to pull away again, needing to look at her face, she resists. Her hand comes up against the back of my skull and she holds me there.

  "Just promise me, Cassie."

  I sigh. "Nothing is ever going to happen to you," I swear. "But if it makes you feel better, I promise."

  She relaxes, and her hand goes from restraining me to stroking my hair. I settle back into a more comfortable position, pressin
g my face back against her willingly. I'm almost asleep when I hear her whisper something just above my shoulder.

  "Thank you, Cassie."

  When I open my eyes the window outside is dark and Levi is knocking on the door.

  "Hey, Troublemaker, you ready?" I sit up as he opens the door. "Oh, guess not."

  "No, I'm okay. Turn on the light for me?" I ask.

  When he does I have to blink away the blinding dots that dance in front of my vision. He chuckles at me as he comes to stand in front of the bed. "You look well rested." His eyes travel the length of my legs encased in faded but tight pants. "You wanna stay here?"

  "Nope." I pop the p sound, roll over, and jump out of the comfortable bed. I'm glad I kept my boots on because at that moment Aaron pokes his head into the room, ducking beneath the door frame and glancing around.

  "You'll be late if we wait any longer," he says.

  Levi grins at me before spinning towards Aaron. "We're ready," he says cheerily, brushing past him. Aaron remains behind, his eyes watching Levi as he frowns. He turns back to me. "What did you say to him?"

  "Me?" I blink. "I didn't say anything. Why?"

  His frown deepens. "He's not usually in such a good mood before a fight."

  Confused, I head towards the door and flick the light off as I step out into the hallway. "Why not? He doesn't like to fight?"

  Aaron shakes his head and I can't help but stare at the tattoos just inside his collar, spread across his skin like more than just ink under the skin but like marks of a warrior. "Not usually," he says as we start walking towards the living room.

  "Then why does he do it?" I ask.

  Aaron's hazel eyes narrow on me as he turns his head. He stops and anchors a hand on the wall in front of me, barring me from passing. His sleeve rides up and more tattoos peek out. They snake around his wrist before leaving a small stretch of skin clean and another blotch of ink takes over and travels up and across his knuckles.

  "Why do you want to know?" he demands.

  "Geez," I snap. "If you don't want to tell me, then don't." I try to duck under his arm, but his other hand comes out and his fingers hook in the back of my neckline, pulling me back.