Her head hurt, but not so badly as before. She'd been having strange, vivid dreams. They felt like memories. They were memories – countless lifetimes of memories. But they all swirled together, and she couldn't tell which were hers and which belonged to Fenrir or the Blessed or to Rourke. All she knew was that Fenrir was gone now, and so was Rourke. He was at peace for the first time in a millennium.
But still, who was she?
She could hear the slow, soft breaths that passed between her dry lips like whispers. Her skin stung and felt tight. Cool, wet stone lay beneath her fingers. Something heavy covered her body. It felt like cold metallic silk. The air was warm and thick. In the distance, she could hear quiet words. A conversation.
"So how long until the other Dwellers start finding out that Fenrir's gone?" It was a tenor voice that she heard first – one that prickled a series of memories. This one was familiar to her. A cold vice gripped her heart at the mention of the Dwellers. Those, at least, she knew were the enemy. Then, another voice followed. This one was high and raspy.
"Not long at all, human-named-Connor. I would not be surrrrrprrrrised if some knew alrrrrready," it said. She had to focus to piece together the words coming from this voice. It was as if they were rolling through a voice box that wasn't quite human. Now she had a name for the first speaker, though. Connor. That name tugged at yet another set of memories. She was starting to piece together which ones belonged to her.
"Thanks, Bastet, that's very helpful," said the voice attached to Connor. It was cut with impatient sarcasm. "Now how many do you think Heart's up against?"
Bastet's voice purred. "Likely countless. Even my own networrrrk of rrrrrrats could neverrrr obtain a complete count of how many of us werrrrrre left."
Connor groaned. "Damnit, Tess," he said. "Of all the stupid things... I guess she didn't feel like she had much of a choice though, did she?"
"I think that much should be obvious, Connorrrrr," said Bastet.
Tess breathed in. Good. She had a name for herself now. She could begin sorting through her memories in earnest. But she supposed that she might not like what she'd find. It sounded as if she'd made a mistake. Perhaps she'd been an incompetent person.
Connor's voice spoke up once more. It sounded heavy and hesitant, and Tess did not like what she heard.
"Bastet," he said, "We need your help here. I'll make you a deal."
Those words had been spoken before, long ago, in Rourke's memories. They filtered up through Tess's mind, and she knew that they were his memories, not hers. He'd been a dumb and desperate kid, just like herself, and just like Connor. A deal with a Dweller was a deal with the devil. It couldn't happen again. Tess sucked in a fast breath, and her eyes snapped open.
"No!" she gasped.
END OF PART 1
YOU ARE READING
Subterra Heart
Science FictionConnor is sick. Always has been, always will be. It's left him jaded and strapped for cash, but at least it's not bloodrot. He's still got his sanity. When an estranged family member offers him a lifetime supply of his meds for an itsy bitsy bit of...
