The Last Hunter - Descent (Book 1 of the Antarktos Saga)
Page 14
I launch to my feet. “Ull is real?
Still snickering, Ninnis says, “All the ancient gods are real, though they are not gods in the sense that men believed them to be. They are certainly godlike, having supernatural fathers and human mothers, but they are not all powerful creators. Some would have you believe as much, but it’s just not true. They are, however, our superiors in every way. And they’re nearly as old as mankind. Our half-brothers.
“At first, we worshiped them. Their size and strength set them apart and above us. They were the heroes of old.”
“The men of renown,” I add.
He gives me a hard stare. “How do you know these words?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve retained a lot of information despite having no memory of where or when I learned anything.”
He accepts the answer and continues. “Despite their heroic feats, mankind turned against them. With numbers too great to count, a flood of humanity forced the masters underground, long before this continent lay at the bottom of the world. And then the world shifted and Antarctica froze over, trapping the masters here, where they wait for a thaw, and freedom.”
“Why don’t they wage war on the surface?” I ask.
“They will,” Ninnis says. “When their leader returns.”
“When will that be?”
Ninnis shrugs. “I don’t know. But I suspect you will have something to do with it.”
“Me?”
“You are a child of Antarctica. The first and only human child born on the continent in thousands of years, since before the shift. Their magic—they call it spirit—courses through Antarctica to the core. The creatures you’ve seen. The gigantic caverns. This whole world couldn’t exist without it. And when you were born, some of that spirit merged with you. The moment you returned, they knew, and I was sent to bring you home.”
This was all fascinating, but my mind has wandered back to my impending meeting with the true Ull. “Then he can’t kill me.”
“Oh, he rightly can,” he says. “And will without hesitation if he thinks they have misjudged you. And you have a lot of ground to make up.”
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t make a good first impression.”
I remember my meeting with the giant (Ull) at the temple (New Jericho). I had been terrified. Confused. Unhinged. I frown at the memory of his laugh. The deep bellow had permeated my core. And I must face that laugh again. Tomorrow.
My hunter’s instincts return. Before any successful hunt, I must rest. My intellect wants to spend the night asking Ninnis questions, but my instincts tell me to sleep because tomorrow I will face death, and if I’m to die I want to do it well rested.
“Then I will make a better second impression,” I say before lying back and closing my eyes.
I hear Ninnis laugh again. “And how will you do that?”
“Simple,” I say. “I will draw first blood.”
27
Five minutes after waking, we start walking. And we keep walking. For hours. Then we’re squeezing, climbing and swimming. All in silence. Ninnis’s attention is on the journey and all the potential threats along the way. I focus on these things as well, but I’m also thinking about what will happen when we reach our destination.
Ninnis claims to not know our destination, only that we must enter the master’s territory. Once there, he’ll find us.
Some time ago, we crossed the border of my mental map and entered the unknown. I’ve been extending the map in my mind, but for any other purpose than backtracking, it’s useless without exploring the side tunnels. I make note of all the tunnels, cracks and crevices we pass, along with rivers, bodies of water, pitfalls and other important markers, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever return.
I think that’s what bothers me. I hate not knowing. It must be some kind of core personality trait because the less I know about this day, the more I’m consumed with irritation.
Ninnis’s hand slaps against my shoulder. He’s ducked behind a boulder at the end of the tunnel. The space beyond is hidden from view, but the ceiling is vast. He spins back to me and hisses. When danger is near, this is his way of saying, “Shut-up and stay put.”
But as he observed the night before, I’m no longer subservient to him. I sniff the air. It’s a cresty. I look at Ninnis and feel sorry for him. The scent of cresty blood is easy to detect. The dinosaur is injured. And close. There is nothing to fear.
I leap over Ninnis, Whipsnap held high, and land on the boulder. I scramble silently up the stone. Near the top, I crouch on my feet, preparing to leap out and attack. The size of the cresty doesn’t matter. If it’s injured, it will fall as easily as a pup. I glance back at Ninnis, who is now up and smiling, and charge over the boulder.
As I move, something about Ninnis’s smile strikes me. It’s so subtle I nearly miss it. And it’s not so much in the shape of his mouth but in the shape of his eyes. A little pinch of his crow’s feet that says I’m about to learn a lesson.
Look before you leap, I think.
And I do.
And nearly too late. But I’ve managed to stop myself just as the blade of an axe bigger than my body whooshes up from below. Had I jumped out as planned I would have been cut in two.
The giant stands. He’s monstrous.
His red hair extends from his head down to a full beard that is braided and decorated with human skulls. A large cresty head rests on his head, just above a thick band of gold covering his forehead. The cresty head is attached to a skin hanging down behind him like a cape, containing a quiver of arrows the size of a pole vaulter’s pole. He holds a massive bow in one hand and the axe in the other. His red haired chest is bare. His upper arms are adorned in gold bands, and cresty skin gauntlets cover his forearms. He wears tall, brown, soft-soled boots. A gold-buckled belt holds up a brown-scaled skirt.
He is every bit the giant god-man you’d expect...if you could fathom such a thing. Before this moment, I’d thought I could. I’d seen his back side before, though dressed differently. But nothing could prepare me for this monstrous form.
I look at Whipsnap. My weapon is pitiful. I steal a glance at my pale body. The physical prowess I’ve earned during my time underground seems wholly inadequate.
For a moment I wonder if submission is the point of this test. To acknowledge his superiority over me. Pledge my allegiance to him.
As he notches an arrow (I didn’t even see him attach the axe to his belt, but there it is) I know this is wrong. Everything Ninnis taught me has led to this point and the biggest lesson he has taught me is ruthlessness. Ull will be no different. And I can’t be either.
I focus on the bow. The string goes taut. The silver tip of the arrow fades from view as it lines up with the spot between my eyes. This is when I act, arching back as far as I can without falling over. I see the giant arrow pass over my face. I feel the tickle of its large feathers against my stomach.
Then I’m up again, and just in time. The axe is back out and crashing down toward me. I dive to the side. Bits of stone shrapnel sting my back as the boulder explodes under the blow.
I hit the stone floor in the massive chamber and roll. A quick glance at my surroundings reveals an arena of sorts. The ceiling is perhaps a hundred feet high. The circular space—not a natural formation—is perhaps three hundred feet across. And all around us are the faces of ancient gods, some of which I recognize, carved into the walls. The Egytian gods: Set, Anubis, Isis and Osiris are the easiest to recognize. Some look South American. Others are clearly Norse. There are Roman gods. Sumerian. Asian. Deities from all of the world’s mythologies are represented.
But I have no time to dwell on these things. There is only time to run. Which I do.
The laugh pursues me again.
But this time I don’t feel its effect.
Instead, I work out a plan. I told Ninnis I would draw first blood, and that’s precisely what I intend to do. I just need to get something out of my pack.
I return my attention to my pack as Ull roars in frustration. I resist the urge to taunt the giant. I need him to think I’m fleeing.
I grip my thirty foot braided skin rope and take it from the pack, which I then drop to the ground. Still running, I place the loop over my shoulder and find the end weighted with a dense stone. As I reach the far end of the arena, I turn and find Ull taking aim once more. He fires. I duck left as a second gust of wind comes and the arrow slams into the wall behind me. When I stand up again, I realize the shot would have been off even if I hadn’t moved. Given the renewed roar of frustration coming from the giant, I guess he’s not accustomed to missing.
But he’s not going to give up. And I need him closer. Much closer. As he nocks a fourth arrow, I pull myself up on to the third arrow, stand atop it, look back and give Ull a cocky little wave of thanks before taking to the wall like a spider.
The effect is immediate. The giant throws down his bow and arrow, takes up the axe again, and charges. As he thunders across the arena, the cresty headdress and cape falls away, exposing the gold ring on his forehead. Seeing the ring on its own struck me as odd. It wasn’t decorative. In fact, unlike the rest of Ull’s garb, it looked a little silly and out of place. It must have some other significance, I think, and decide to add it to my list of targets—after I draw first blood.
My climb ends when I reach the long snouted carving of Anubis. I stand on the forehead and loose my rope.
Ull is halfway to me. I have just seconds to act.
I spin the line and throw it out. I see the weighted end wrap around the tusk of a god-head I don’t recognize. I would normally test the line and make sure it’s secure. But I don’t have that luxury. Ull, and his axe, are upon me. I leap out and away as the axe comes down. Shards of stone once again pound my back, but I swing away quickly, one hand on the braided line, the other clutching Whipsnap.
As my swing arcs down and away from Ull I think about the arrows that nearly killed me. I would like to say I dodged them on my own, but I don’t think that’s the case. In both circumstances I felt a gust of wind strike just as I flinched. A theory comes together in my mind and I think back. When I fought and killed the cresty, a gush of water aided me. When Ninnis was nearly killed by an avalanche, I felt strong emotions—emotions I fought to bury. A hundred smaller examples fill my memory as my swing reaches its apex. Bursts of wind. A surge of water. A cloud of snow. All seemingly in response to my emotions and reactions.
Ninnis said Antartica was infused with the magic—with the spirit—of the masters, and being born here, I was too. Maybe that magic somehow bonded me to the land, water and air?
As I swing back toward Ull, I decide to test the theory. It’s probably the worst time in history to try something like this. It might get me killed. But I can’t resist.
I had planned to let go at the base of my return swing and plunge my spear tip into Ull’s foot, quickly do whatever damage I could to slow him down and then keep moving. My new plan is much more direct.
The return swing takes me back to where the head of Anubis used to be (it’s a heap of stone on the arena floor now). A cloud of stone dust fills the space between Ull and me, which is convenient because it keeps him from swatting me out of the air like a fly. And when I let go of the rope at the apex of my swing and take to the air, that’s as close an approximation of what I am to the giant as I can conceive. I am a bug in his sight.
But I pack a nasty sting.
Putting my theory to the test, I wish with all my being that I would be carried higher. The request isn’t forced or phony. If I fall, I’ll die. For a moment, I start to fall, but the sinking in my stomach, churns a surge of emotion through my body and a gust of wind catches me and carries me higher, straight toward Ull’s head.
The dust parts for me. I emerge from it and let out a howl. Ull turns toward me, the briefest look of surprise in his black eyes. Then his confidence returns, but only for a moment. I see his eyes reflect fear. I unleash Whipsnap, striking an upward blow to the golden ring surrounding his large head. There is a clang of stone on metal. The ring springs free from his head and flips away.
I sense several things that mark a change in this encounter. First is Ull’s brief fear. Second is Ninnis’s gasp, audible all the way across the arena. Third is the pulse I see beneath Ull’s forehead. It’s a soft spot. And Ull is hardly human. Whatever it is, it must be vital.
I twist as I fall, facing Ull’s body. I stab out with Whipsnap. I merely meant to impale the scaled leather skirt and slow my fall, but I pass the skirt and stab deep into the meat above his knee. The spear tip catches and I slam into his booted shin.
The tip comes loose and I fall the rest of the way to the stone floor.
Ull steps back, glancing down at his bleeding leg while testing his bare head with his other hand, searching for the missing metal ring. He’s not holding his axe. He’s paying no attention to me. This is my chance.
I get to my feet, take aim with Whipsnap and let the spear fly.
A moment later, it plunges deep into Ull’s flesh.
28
Ull lowers his hand. He had raised it at the last moment, allowing the spear-tipped end of Whipsnap to pierce his hand, rather than his forehead. I stand there, stunned, as the giant looks at the weapon buried in his hand and smiles. His teeth are yellow and sharp. When he lets out a laugh I see multiple rows of teeth, just like the egg-monsters.
He turns his eyes on me and holds out his wounded hand. With his other hand, he takes the spear and pulls it slowly out of his flesh. Blood drips as my weapon slurps out of his hand. The blade bites for a moment, but he tugs at it quickly and the whole thing comes free.
He tosses Whipsnap aside like it’s a used-up matchstick and holds the wound out for me to see. Blood oozes from the hole in his hand for just a moment. Then as quickly as Whipsnap pierced his hand, the wound seals over and disappears.
A shudder runs through Ull’s body. His smile widens. And his eyes are back on me. “Pain is delightful, don’t you think?” The deep bass of his voice shakes my insides.
For a moment, I wonder how it is this ancient man-monster can speak English, but decide it is one of the least perplexing things about this world. Ninnis could have easily taught him the language.
When Ull takes a step toward me, cutting the distance between us in half, I know there is nowhere I can run. With no weapon, I have no defense. My only consolation is that he’s not nocking an arrow or wielding the axe. But when his arm reaches back, I know he’s going to strike me.
I could run and might avoid his reach for a time. I might even make it to Whipsnap.
But what he has just shown me makes the effort useless. Ninnis told me that this was a fight I could not win. And he’s right. Killing Ull would be impossible.
As the swing descends I think I should try to relax my body as tense limbs can’t flex and break more easily. But no matter how hard I will myself to stay limber, my muscles cramp up with a sudden twitch.
Two things run through my mind before the blow connects.
This is going to hurt.
And, if he’s not trying to kill me now, I passed!
A grin spreads on my lips a moment before he sends me flying. I feel my arm and several ribs break. I see the floor passing beneath me. There goes Whipsnap. How far did he hit me? I spin round and see the stone floor of the cavern rising up to meet me. Landing may hurt more than being hit, and my insides cringe. With the twist of fear comes a burst of wind. It doesn’t stop me, but it certainly slows me down.
I hit the stone, roll for several feet and then slide to a stop on my back.
The pounding
of Ull’s feet is hard to ignore, even with my body screaming out in pain. I turn toward him, wondering if he’s done. The look in his eyes says he’s not.
So I stand to face him again.
There is no pause when he arrives. He simply strikes me and sends me flying. I land near the entrance.
I think both arms are broken now, but my legs are fine. It’s hard to say, as I feel the pain from my wounds from head to toe. I turn and see Ninnis’s feet nearby.
Then Ull is pounding toward me again.
I sit up and try to stand. It’s harder without my arms.
“Stay down, you fool!” Ninnis hisses at me.
But I won’t stay down. My body may be broken, but my will isn’t. And I know what I want. Ull has revealed the true nature of the spirit living in me.
Anger. Hate. Pain.
I crave it.
It fuels me.
I spit blood at Ninnis’s feet and face my master.
Ull stops above me, pausing. I can feel my face swelling and I’m sure he can see it. I smell my blood seeping from countless wounds. My arms dangle uselessly. I am beaten. I am broken.
I look up at him, meeting his eyes.
My body wobbles. I giggle. The funniest quote has entered my mind. I don’t know what it’s from, but I know it’s funny and I speak it aloud. Mimicking Ninnis’s proper accent, I say, “Please sir, can I have some more?”
Then I laugh hysterically.
The last thing I remember about this day is Ull saying, “You have earned the use of my name today, little Ull.”
Then he honors my request, and gives me more.
29
After a long time not feeling hot or cold, the burning that courses through my body upon waking makes me scream. Ninnis is above me a moment later. I can’t hear his words over the pain, but his open palms are urging me to stop.
I see my arms then, flailing like wounded fish, splashing something red that could be my blood, but looks more like fruit punch. I focus on my arms and stop them.