The Last Hunter - Descent (Book 1 of the Antarktos Saga)

by Jeremy Robinson

  I hear Ninnis speaking to me. I cannot hear his words, but I detect concern. Was I supposed to experience this pain? Did any of them know what, if anything, would happen when I drank the blood? As the pain subsides, a grin replaces my gritted teeth. They fear they have chosen wrong. That I am not strong enough to contain the essence of Nephil.

  Assuaging their fears, I uncurl and stand. Something about me must look different, because they stare at me with wide eyes. Even Enki looks stunned. But I am not concerned with what they think. My energy is focused above them.

  It’s only a few seconds before someone notices and shouts out in Sumerian. All heads turn up. Including mine.

  Swirling at the top of the chamber is a black cloud. It’s small, but it quickly grows in size as water pours in from above. When the cloud fills the upper atmosphere of the chamber, the temperature suddenly drops.

  I hear Enki growl. He’s not enjoying this. But he also doesn’t know if this was caused by my bonding with Nephil. In fact, he may be wondering if it’s Nephil doing this.

  The warm air at the bottom of the chamber mixes with the cold air above. The friction builds quickly. A blinding light flashes across the ceiling accompanied by a crack of thunder so loud even the seasoned hunters sitting before me cup their ears.

  Then, miles underground, where the temperature is a steady sixty-five degrees and weather doesn’t exist, it snows. And not gently. The whiteout is as intense as anything ever seen on the surface. And the wind whips around the chamber like a cyclone.

  Everyone is blind.

  Except for me.

  The wind parts the snow for me, creating a path to the stairs and then to the massive doors above, which have blown open. I run to the stairs and take them two at a time, shedding my armor and cloak as I go. Where I’m headed, it will only slow me down. I leave on my leather undergarments and the belt which holds my weapons, everything else remains on the stairs.

  I enter the tunnel beyond the exit and find it empty. There are a hundred ways to flee from here, many better than the one I choose, but I must see Aimee before I leave. I find the spiral staircase and charge up.

  The storm has ended. I can feel it. If not for the energy provided by Nephil’s blood, I would have never been able to pull the storm together this far underground. Even now, I can feel my energy falling back to normal levels. I’m just thankful the storm didn’t exhaust me, like it did on the surface when I took Aimee.

  But even at full strength, I may not be able to escape. Once they recover from the storm and find me missing, the search will begin. I need to be gone from this place when that happens.

  At last I can see Aimee’s room ahead. I sprint for the door and open it without knocking. She’s sitting on the bed. Her head snaps up, and for a moment she smiles. Then she sees the look of panic on my face.

  She stands. “What happened?”

  “I need to go,” I say. “But I needed to thank you first.”

  “For what?”

  “For saving me. For forgiving me despite the awful things I did to you. I’m not sure how you can.”

  “Solomon,” she says with a slight smile. “Nothing is unforgivable. And it was not you who did those things.”

  I embrace her hard and then step back. “I might be gone for a while, but someday, we’ll both leave this place. I promise.”

  She squeezes my hand and says, “We’ll leave together,” but I can see the doubt in her eyes. “Go,” she says. “And don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

  My look of doubt is impossible to hide, too.

  “Just like living in a lion’s den,” she says.

  I have no idea what she’s talking about, but her smile is genuine. I step back into the hallway and am stopped in my tracks by a booming voice that sounds more confused than angry. “What are you doing?”

  It’s Ull. He’s not wet from the snow. I hadn’t seen him leave the banquet hall, but he must have. And now he’s seen me with Aimee.

  Far from being stupid, Ull puts the pieces together quickly. I’m no longer dressed for the feast. I’m saying goodbye to the human I captured. And I’m terrified by his presence.

  I think it’s my fear that tips him off. He sees the change in me. Knows I’m me again.

  But I’m not as weak as he thinks. I may not be a savage killer, but I will defend the people I care about. And if Ull lives, Aimee will surely die or be tortured. And I will not allow that to happen.

  I step out into the middle of the hall and face my master. With one hand on Whipsnap, I look him in the eyes, pour on an English accent and repeat the quote I used in the arena, which I now remember comes from Oliver. “Please, sir, may I have some more?”

  I have no doubt he remembers the odd phrase composed of the last rebellious words I spoke before he broke me, body and mind, endearing my will to his.

  His response is immediate.

  And violent.

  His axe cuts through the air so fast I barely have time to respond. I leap up and the axe passes below me, so close that I actually roll off of its blade and back to my feet. I know what’s coming next, so I’m already focusing on creating a strong wind. Three arrows, each a kill shot, are deflected away from me at the last moment. Two slam into the far wall and stick. The third ricochets off.

  Losing his patience, Ull tosses the bow to the side, most likely recalling he had to get up close and personal in our first encounter. I remember it too, and decide I would prefer to stay out of his reach. I need to reach his head, remove that golden crown and see how well that protected part of the warrior body heals. But there are no god-heads carved into the stone and I don’t have my rope.

  Still, there might be another way. Not all of the energy delivered by Nephil has left. I still have some strength. And if I can deflect massive arrows...

  I take Whipsnap from my belt. It springs to life in my hand, like a living thing, eager once more for the hunt. But this is no hunt. It’s a fight.

  To the death.

  I charge, bending Whipsnap in my hands. Ull charges too. His arm is raised back, ready to smash me to the floor like a fly. One good hit, that’s all it will take, and this will be over.

  Whether it’s him striking me, or me him. Either way, one of us is going to die.

  Twenty feet away he begins to swing.

  I jump.

  For a moment I can see his swing is going to connect. Then the wind picks me up and carries me higher. His eyes go wide with the realization that he has missed. This tiny insect can fly, albeit briefly.

  He tries to duck to the side, but Whipsnap has a good reach and when I let it loose, it connects with the crown as it did in the arena. And just like then, the crown flies from his head. I think, what a fool (for not securing it tighter) and then concentrate my energy far behind me, far down the hallway where one of Ull’s arrows lies on the floor.

  Everything moves slowly. The crown is still sailing away, flipping end over end like a tossed coin. Ull’s forehead is exposed. The loose skin pulses with his heartbeat. I can hear it. Thum. Thum. Thum. I focus on it. Even as I fall, I will the wind toward it.

  The arrow passes over me in a blur, moving as fast as it did from Ull’s bow. But this time, the projectile finds its target. I hear a tearing sound followed by a slurp. The impact knocks the giant off his feet. He falls beneath me.

  I land on Ull’s still chest. The arrow is buried in his forehead. And he doesn’t move. The giant is dead.

  The Nephilim can be killed.

  I stand up, looking down at my former master and realize I am free. Not from pursuit, or threat of life, slavery or future breaking. But free of the monster I called my master. A part of me loved this thing, the way an abused person loves an abuser, but my eyes have been opened.

  “I am free,” I say, and a single set of ears hears me.

  I turn and face Ninnis, who has just reached the top of the staircase. He’s soaking wet and has a funny look on his face. I realize it’s because I’m standing on the che
st of a dead Nephilim. “They can be killed,” I say to him.

  His face is grim. Unreadable. He shakes his head, and then runs away.

  Though this is out of character for Ninnis, I know not to waste time questioning it. My retreat takes me in an opposite direction, and I find the path wonderfully free of pursuers.

  * * *

  I squeeze through a maze of passageways, covering my tracks as best I can. I travel in water whenever possible to erase my scent. I move for days without stopping for food.

  Despite my hunger, every step away from Asgard fills me with a hopeful energy. Even in the darkness, there can be light. My mind returns to that day in the car. We’re on the way to Logan airport. Mira is sitting next to me. The photo of us is in my hand. And Open Up Your Heart (And Let the Light Shine In) by Gail & Rosemary Clooney is playing on the oldies station. Mira knows it and sings along.

  Mommy told me something a little girl should know

  It's all about the Devil and I've learned to hate him so

  She says he causes trouble when you let him in the room

  He will never ever leave you if your heart is filled with gloom

  So, let the sun shine in, face it with a grin

  Smilers never lose and frowners never win

  So, let the sun shine in, face it with a grin

  Open up your heart and let the sun shine in

  The memory is infectious and the lyrics reflect how I feel. I play it back in my head, and I’m soon singing along quietly. I’m whistling the song, feeling hopeful about the future and eventually rescuing Aimee, but when I reach my destination, Ninnis is waiting for me.

  37

  “Nice tune,” he says, leaning against the tunnel wall. He looks calm, collected and refreshed.

  “How did you find me?” I ask, my hand resting on Whipsnap.

  “If you’re wondering how I tracked you, I didn’t. You covered your scent nicely. But I knew where you were going.”

  I squint at him, asking how without saying a word.

  “Where is it?” he asks. “Where did you hide it?”

  I stay silent. I answer only to myself now.

  “I knew you couldn’t destroy it.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything about it?”

  He smiles. “We all keep trinkets from the topside. You were doing so well I didn’t see the harm in it.”

  “Whoops,” I say.

  “Was it the photo?” he asks. “Is that what brought your memories back? They are back?”

  I nod. There’s no reason to lie about that. “Not the photo.”

  I shrug. “I think it was Nephil’s blood.” Now this I need to lie about. To protect Aimee. “Must have made my mind strong enough to undo the breaking.”

  He ponders this before offering his own shrug. “You won’t come back?”

  “What about Ull?”

  “Without a witness they won’t know if you killed him or if you had help, which it certainly appears you did, though you and I both know that’s not true.”

  “You weren’t witness?” I ask.

  “A witness who also happened to be your trainer. When you killed Ull you put my reputation in jeopardy. I would be strung up, filleted alive and fed to a breeder if they knew the truth.”

  “What do they know?”

  “That something strange happened when you were bonded with the blood of Nephil. That you disappeared shortly after. And that someone, most likely another warrior, killed Ull.”

  Which means, I think, with the exception of Ninnis, my escape has gone perfectly. “When I stood up after taking the blood. Before the storm. What was everyone looking at?”

  “You haven’t seen it?”

  I shake my head. I have no idea what he’s talking about.

  He motions to his head. “Your hair. There’s a streak in it.”

  A streak? I’m fairly certain the coloring of my hair over time represented the progress of my corruption. I was fairly certain the change was permanent. “What color?” I ask.

  “Blond,” he says.

  I want to smile. To leap with joy. Maybe everything that’s been done to me can be undone or repaired? Maybe one day I’ll see the sky and not need to squint. Or I’ll share a birthday meal with friends. Or any number of things I took for granted before. But in my heart, I know those things are a long way off. “What happens now?”

  He shifts away from the wall, casually holding his hands behind his back. “All of the hunters have been sent out to search for you. They will track you down, subdue you if necessary, and bring you back.”

  “But that’s not why you’re here,” I say, looking back down the tunnel. “You came alone.”

  He grins. “I’m here to break you. Again. And bring back Ull, the hunter.”

  When he pulls his hand out from behind his back, I give a yank on Whipsnap. My weapon cracks open, but is immediately pulled from my hand. Ninnis knew I would use Whipsnap and snared it with a line, yanking it away. He tosses my weapon behind him.

  For a moment, I think he’s going to say something again. But he lets out a wail as savage as anything I’ve ever heard in the underworld or above it, and charges. His arms are outstretched. His fingers curve into hooks.

  I fall back under him, unprepared for such ferocity. Ull would have been, but I’m not him anymore.

  When I hit the stone floor, Ninnis has my arms pinned back. His long, thick, and sharpened fingernails are digging into my skin.

  This is how it starts.

  The breaking.

  And I can feel a part of me—the part that flinches under Justin’s punches or weeps when my mother laughs at me—shirking back. But I’m more than that now. I have been broken and repaired. I have all the skills of a Nephilim hunter. I am bonded with the continent of Antarctica on a supernatural level. I am the killer of warriors and have consumed the blood of Nephil, lord of the Nephilim.

  “AND YOU THINK YOU CAN BREAK ME?”

  The voice is unnatural.

  I’m not even sure it was mine. But it came out of my mouth and roared like thunder.

  A wind kicks up from the tunnel below and races toward us. Ninnis has let go of me and sat up. He’s shaking with fear.

  Then an invisible force strikes him and carries him up the steeply graded tunnel. I pick up Whipsnap and give chase, but I lose sight of him when he’s launched from the tunnel like a human cannonball.

  I enter the night and find a clear sky full of stars and a full moon. It’s bright enough to make me squint. Ninnis lies still, three hundred feet below. I go to him and crouch down. His chest rises and falls. He is alive.

  I could kill him now. It would be so easy.

  Without realizing I’m doing it, I place Whipsnap’s blade against his throat. I see myself cutting him open, watching his blood gush into the white snow.

  And I remember the voice.

  My voice, that was not mine.

  The bloodlust reveals that I have more than just Ull inside me now. There is a new voice.

  Nephil.

  Some part of him is there. Fighting for control.

  And I won’t give it. Not to either of them.

  In all my time underground, I have killed to eat. I have killed in self-defense. Insects. Dinosaurs. Feeders. Dozens of other stranger creatures. Including Nephilim. But I have never killed a human being.

  And I’m not going to start now. Not by the direct action of running him through, nor by the indirect action of leaving him to freeze to death.

  I take Ninnis by the hand and drag him back to the tunnel entrance. This will be the second time I’ve spared his life. I doubt he will honor my mercy by returning the favor, but to save myself, I need to save him too.

  I leave him sitting by the entrance and scrawl three words into the stone wall across from him. It will be the first thing he sees when he wakes up. I’m not sure the power of the words will affect him as they did me, but I can hope.

  Further down the tunnel, I stop by a crack in the wall. It t
akes me thirty seconds to work the Polaroid photo out of the wall with Whipsnap’s blade tip. I risked everything for this photo, heading to familiar territory when I should have been headed deep. But when I look at the image and see my face, so young and so happy, and next to me is Mira—the sight of her breaks my heart—I feel the voices in me fall silent. This photo is my anchor to myself and to everything I’m fighting for.

  But right now, I can’t fight. I’m not even sure how to fight what is coming. Despite all I can do, I am just one person alone against a supernatural army. So I run. As fast and as deep as I dare, I run.

  38

  Forty days later, I stop. Though I’m not sure it was really forty days, by underground standards or topside standards. I haven’t slept much. But I’ve traveled far and deep and have found a place I think the Nephilim, and the hunters will at least think twice about before following me.

  It’s one of the largest caverns I’ve seen. The ceiling is hundreds of feet up but not concealed in darkness. Instead, it’s covered in the luminescent crystals that lined the pit. So many, in fact, that I need a few minutes to adjust to the light.

  I stand at the edge of a waterfall, looking down. Below me is a lake, not as vast as the one at New Jericho, but big enough. And the light shines on the water just right, so I can see the animals living in the water. There are fish, lots of them, but none are large enough to eat me. There are no seals here, either. If there were, I imagine the cavern’s primary denizen and topper of the food chain—a pack of cresties led by a thirty-foot matriarch—would have eaten them long ago.

  Living among cresties is a risk, but there are several other animals living here, and more than a few of them are prey for the cresties. As long as they don’t detect my scent, which seemed to have set off the first mother cresty I encountered, I should be fine.

  And the risk is worth it. Not only are there fish and other prey animals to eat—birds, both in the air and flightless, what appear to be herds of hairless mammals, and if necessary, the cresties—but there are also plants. Trees, shrubs and vines surround the lake. Plains of tall green grasses roll into the distance. I have no idea how this is possible, without sunlight. Maybe the stones actually produce ultraviolet light? Maybe the spirit of Antarctica makes it possible.