I see the boy’s eyes and my heart skips a beat. They look so familiar. When I look at the rest of his face, I immediately know why I know his eyes.
It’s because they’re mine.
Luca is me.
As a child.
“Luca,” Tobias says. “This is Solomon—”
“—your brother.”
20
The next hour is surreal as I give myself a tour of the place I where was born. But he’s not me. Not really. Even though he is identical to me at six years old.
Identical.
Even his pure blond, unbroken hair. But he does not share my memories, and only some of my personality. I bring none of this up, because he is beyond excited to meet me and is leading me around by the hand, pointing out Tobias’s room (my parents’ room), Em’s room (the Clarks’ room) and his bedroom (my bedroom). He even sleeps in the makeshift crib—a cot with slabs of wood nailed around the sides to keep me from rolling out—that my father and Dr. Clark made for me. I look at its metal and wooden frame, now sporting a mattress of feeder skins, and look up. There is more rust on the ceiling than I remember, but it is still the same place.
I feel instantly at home and the smile on my face is genuine.
But I cannot stop thinking about the little me holding my hand. How is he possible? Why is he here? Is he really my brother?
I feel sick to my stomach with the thought I maybe I had a twin who was taken at birth and maybe he’s only six because he lived underground all this time?
The questions don’t stop coming, so when the tour finishes in the living room I think I might get a chance to speak to Tobias in private. But Luca has other plans. He props himself up on my—his—bed. His little legs dangle over the side.
“Will I look like you when I’m older?” he asks.
The answer to that question is simple. Yes. You’ll look exactly like me when you’re older, but I don’t think he knows the truth. He can see that we look alike, but he doesn’t recognize his older face the way I do my younger. So I stick to the story. “Brothers often do. Some even look like twins.”
“I wish we were twins,” he says with a grin.
The kid has just met me, but I can see in his eyes that he’s already idolizing me. It makes me uncomfortable and I can’t help but wonder how much he’s been told about me. And how much of it is true. “Why?” I ask.
“Because you’re so big.”
That’s the first time in my life someone has called me big, and I almost argue, but let it go because most teenagers are big in comparison to a six year old boy. “That’s it?”
He thinks for a moment and then his eyes go wide. He jumps down from the bed and fishes out a cardboard box from underneath it. Inside are several drawings on water damaged sheets of paper and five very worn crayons. I wonder what will happen when he runs out of crayons? Or paper. It will be a sad day for him.
He shoves a piece of paper in my face. On it is a small boy. And a very tall man. Both look angry. It’s hard to tell what they’re doing, but Luca translates it for me.
“It’s you,” he says. “You’re fighting the bad men.”
“Bad men?”
“I’m not allowed to say their names.”
“How did you know I would fight the bad men?”
“Father told me.” Luca flips to the next drawing.
The giant is on the ground. I think he’s dead. And the boy stands above him. On top of him. That’s when I see the large arrow sticking out of the giant’s head. I take the picture and sit down in an old metal folding chair next to the room’s desk.
“I saw you,” Luca whispers. He pulls the drawing down so we’re looking eye to eye. “I saw you do it.”
It seems impossible—only Ninnis saw what really happened the day I killed Ull. No one else knows. Is Luca some kind of a prophet? “What else do you see?”
“Just the big things. When they happen. Like dreams.”
“You can’t see what’s going to happen?”
He shakes his head, no.
“Can you see anyone else?”
No again. “Just you.”
Footsteps approach. “Don’t tell father,” he says, snatching away the drawing and putting it back in the box. “He doesn’t know.”
Em arrives in the doorway, but Luca is still nervous. He puts his hands behind his back and tries to hide his smile by pushing out his lower lip with his tongue. I used to do the same thing. It’s a dead giveaway that mischief is afoot.
Em squints at him. She’s got thin eyes already and they essentially disappear. Her face is wide, but pretty, and her cheeks are covered in freckles. At least half of her straight hair is brown. She’s also not nearly as pale as me. They’ve been on the surface for some time, I think.
“What are you two up to?” she asks.
Luca’s smile can’t be contained. He’s guilty of something, but says nothing.
“Brother stuff,” I say.
“Yeah,” says Luca. “Brother stuff.”
“Not sister stuff?” Em says.
Luca sticks out his tongue.
Em tugs on my shirt. After meeting Luca, Tobias gave me a pair of old jeans and a flannel shirt that I think belonged to Dr. Clark. I never saw him in it, but I’ve seen him in many others like it. The clothes are too big for me, but I look almost normal for the first time in years.
Years…
“Father wants to speak to you now,” she says, motioning with her head for me to follow.
Luca starts to follow us, but Em stops him. “Just Sol.”
“Aww,” Luca says with a stomp of his foot, but he turns around and goes back into his room.
Em looks back at me and sees my funny grin. “What?”
“Nothing.”
She stops. “What?”
“You called me Sol. Reminds me of home. Of my family. It’s…it’s nice.”
“Oh,” she says. “Good.”
She leads me to my parents’ old room, now Tobias’s and stops by the door. “You can think of us like that now if you want. Like family. Did you have a sister before?”
“I was an only child,” I tell her.
“Sad.”
“I had a friend. Justin. He was like family. Like a brother.”
“Well,” she says. “Now you have a sister. And a little brother.”
I smile wide. “Thanks.”
She opens the door for me and stands aside. Tobias stands with his back to me.
“Come in, Solomon,” he says. “Close the door behind you.”
I do.
“I want to tell you everything, Solomon. About me. About Emilie. And about Luca.”
I see his muscles grow tense. Something is bothering him.
“But I’ve been thinking and came to a realization. I need you to tell me everything.”
“I—”
“You are holding back,” he says, turning around to face me. He’s got Whipsnap in his hands. I left it in the living area, which I knew was stupid, but I couldn’t bring myself to carry a weapon while Luca showed me around the home. “No ordinary hunter could kill Ull. I’m one of the best, and I failed to come close. Not even Ninnis could do it. I know what they planned to do with you. I know about Nephil. And Tarturus. And the blood. The only way I can see you killing Ull is by using a strength greater than your own, which means you are already bonded with the body of Nephil.”
He lowers the blade tip of Whipsnap, of my own weapon, toward my stomach. “Which means you brought that monster into my home, to my children, and if you cannot explain yourself in the next few moments, I will gut you where you stand.”
21
I’m surprised at myself when I nearly lunge for Whipsnap. I’m not sure if the desire to claim the weapon is self-defense or merely because I’ve become so attached to it. I manage to control myself, but Tobias sees the intent hidden in my eyes. His muscles tense in preparation for a fight.
But I’m not Ull, and fighting this man is out of the question
. He deserves the truth. I only hope he won’t kill me when he hears it.
I raise my hands and step back, trying to think of a way to explain things. But there is no way to dull this news. “It’s true,” I say. “I am bonded to the flesh of Nephil.”
Whipsnap’s blade moves closer.
“But,” I say quickly. “That was a long time ago. At least a year. I think. It’s hard to tell down there.”
“I should kill you,” he says. “You’re dangerous.”
“Not anymore,” I say. “There was a time when that small part of Nephil fought for control. Along with my own dark side. You must know what that’s like.”
“And I know it cannot be defeated,” he says. “The hunter is always there, urging me to kill.”
“Like now,” I note.
He glances down at Whipsnap, then back to me. “Do not try to trick me.”
I slowly lower my hands, palms open, and assume a relaxed, non-threatening posture. “If there was any hunter left in control of me, never mind Nephil, do you think I could stand here, with a weapon aimed at my stomach, and speak to you?”
“How?” He asks. “How is it possible? The hunter is part of you. It is closer to the surface with the broken, but it is a part of every human being on Earth. You cannot bury it.”
“You can,” I say.
“How?” His voice is urgent and I sense he is close to acting if I don’t give him a convincing answer.
“With help,” I say.
He steps closer. “Who?”
“Xin.”
His eyes go wide, but he does not strike. “Xin? Why would that monster help you?”
“It wasn’t his intention when he found me,” I say. “He meant to kill me.”
“And become a hunter in reward.”
I nod. “He nearly succeeded, but then… Nephil. He took control. Nearly killed Xin. But together, in my mind, we locked Nephil away, along with my hunter personality.”
“You left him to die, I hope,” he says.
“No,” I say. “That is what a hunter would do. Not me. I saved him. And when Behemoth came, he saved me, and hid me from the other hunters.”
Whipsnap slowly lowers to the floor. “You faced Behemoth, and survived?”
“Thanks to Xin, yes.”
“And you spared his life?”
“That’s what I said.”
He sits on the edge of a cot, slowly shaking his head. “This is unheard of, you realize. The hunters do not know mercy.”
I grin. “Well, at least three of them do now.”
“Three of them?”
“I have sparred Ninnis. And Kainda as well.”
He laughs at this. “Do not expect the same kindness in return from those two. You may yet find that letting them live was a horrible mistake.”
His words ring true. I turn my gaze to the floor.
“But,” he says, “I find your story of mercy inspiring. It is a new kind of strength. Perhaps it will be enough to undo the evil already set in motion.”
He tosses Whipsnap to me and I catch it, feeling more confident with it in my grasp.
“Xin’s help alone wouldn’t be enough to chain the will of Nephil,” he says.
“It was just his body,” I say. “Not his spirit.”
“A spirit they believe you are strong enough to contain. Which means you are a person of uncommon strength. Xin might have aided, but I believe the true strength came from you. From the power instilled in you at birth.”
I remember that he witnessed the moment of my birth. He saw the light and the cracking of the ice.
“When we fought,” he says. “I haven’t missed my target in a very long time. Em is even more of a marksman than I. How were you doing it?”
He’s no longer threatening me, but still deserves answers. “Put out your hand.”
He furrows his brow in confusion, but complies. I focus on the small amount of moisture in the air, mostly from our breath, and bring it together. It’s still imperceptible until I use the cold to bind the water together as ice crystals, forming a perfect snowflake. He catches sight of the flake as it falls and is guided down by small gusts of wind. The snowflake drifts back and forth, and it gently settles down in the palm of his hand.
“You did this?” he asks, watching the flake melt into a small bead of water.
“I don’t understand it fully,” I say. “But at the moment of my birth, I was bound to the continent, and the continent to me. We are one and the same. I can control the air, earth and water, though the effort leaves me severely weakened.”
“Then my arrows—”
“Deflected by the wind. Which is how I killed Ull. Fueled by the recent bonding with Nephil, I turned Ull’s own arrow against him. The same effort now would leave me exhausted.”
As this last bit of truth exits my mouth, I suddenly remember that I have just as many questions for Tobias, as he does for me, and I am entitled to some answers. “Luca,” I say, snapping his attention back up to me. “He’s…me?”
A slow nod.
“How is that possible?”
“For thousands of years, the Nephilim have perfected the dark art of manipulating life. The thinkers conjure ideas for new creations. The gatherers collect the raw materials. And the breeders are used to give life to new monsters by altering the feeders before they are born.”
I remember the copy of my mother and a sudden fear clutches my throat. “Raw materials?”
“Samples of living things. Flesh. Blood. Hair.”
“Do they…kill the…”
“You have encountered a creation you recognized?” he asks.
“Ninnis trapped me in a feeder pit. I escaped it not long before you found me. But the first feeder that hatched. It was—” Tears brew in my eyes. “—my mother.”
Tobias approaches and kneels before me. He’s looking at my eyes, but not into them. His attention is drawn to my tears. “You were telling the truth,” he says. “Hunters cannot shed tears. The creature you met was not your mother.”
“I know,” I say. “But to create it they had to—”
“Ahh,” he says, understanding my concern. “The Nephilim are paranoid about being discovered. They prefer to strike like the tiger—with overwhelming force and only when the target is unaware. They leave as little evidence of their presence as possible. If a person is taken, they are returned with little memory of the event. It’s only on rare occasion that someone is killed or taken, and that only happens when there is a logical explanation for how it could have happened.”
“Like me wandering off into a storm at night.”
“Exactly,” he says.
“Do they visit the outside world often?”
Tobias frowns. “Gatherers do all the time. They are sometimes seen as flashes of light, or remembered as owls, but in general, their passing goes unseen, or at most misunderstood. But the gathered materials are brought here to be used in Nephilim experiments.”
“Like Luca?”
“When news of your strange birth reached the warriors, I was ordered to take you. But by that time, the station had been abandoned and you had been taken away.” He opens a desk drawer and takes out a small wooden box. “I searched the station, discovered your room and found this.” He opens the box and reveals a comb. A few strands of short white hair are caught between the teeth.
My hair.
My baby hair.
“I took several strands back to them. Years later, they presented Luca to me. I was to raise him as my son in preparation for bonding with Nephil. It was an honor beyond comparison, one for which Ninnis believed himself deserving. But as Luca grew older, their tests revealed that whatever made your birth special had not been duplicated in Luca. They ordered him destroyed. By my hand. I took him to Behemoth, intending him to be a sacrifice to the guardian of Tartarus.”
He pauses. I cannot take the silence. “And?”
“And I intended to kill him. I was a loyal servant.” He meets my gaze. “Em
stopped me.”
“How?”
“I had not noticed she and Luca spending time together. Hunters don’t pay attention to such things. She wasn’t just playing the part of a sister. In her mind, she was his sister. And since Hunters are only allowed one child, the way it changed her could not be predicted, nor could her passionate defense of his life. She nearly killed me.”
“Why didn’t she?”
“Luca. The boy was not corrupted, like us. And to him, even with all my flaws, I was still his father. Like you, Luca understands mercy. It was the first of many chinks in the armor of this hunter.”
He sees me watching him and stiffens his posture, embarrassed by his openness. “We fled, hiding in the underworld at first, and then headed toward the surface. Only I knew of this place, so we came here. Have been here since. The day you returned and dug through the ice, Luca was here, right beneath you.”
The glut of information is overwhelming me, but there is one more question I need answered. “Are there others? Like Luca? Like me?”
“They tried several times,” he says with a sad nod. “They used many different mothers, both human and breeder. They combined you with animals. And Nephilim. Abominable creations.”
“Are any of them—”
He winces, knowing the question I’m about to ask, and in that action, I know the answer before he speaks it.
“—still alive?”
“Some,” he says. “Those with promise were spared.”
I’m about to ask who and what they are, but Tobias cuts me off. “Thinking of such things is of no use to you or anyone else.”
“But—”
“Such dark thoughts will only set you back. If the future is to be brighter, you must not focus on the darkness.”
“Okay, Yoda,” I say
His confused look makes me smile. “It’s from a movie.”
“A movie?”
I remember how old he is, not to mention where he’s been most of his life. “Forget it. I understand what you’re saying, but it’s going to be hard to ignore while living with Luca.”
The Last Hunter - Pursuit (Book 2 of the Antarktos Saga) Page 11