However, I’m not the only one dropping toward them. One of the Nephilim has sprung its attack.
I surge forward with another gust of wind, directing myself at the warrior like a demon-seeking missile. As I streak beneath its extended wing, I stab up with Whipsnap’s sharp metal blade and shred the wing. It will heal quickly, but the momentary lack of control throws the monster off course and slows its descent.
With just seconds before I pancake on the stone floor, and before my three friends run into a solid wall, I turn my attention to the natural fissure. I raise my hands like I’m parting window curtains and the stone wall opens up just as easily.
Without missing a beat, Kainda, Em and Kat dash through the fresh opening. The effort tires me some, but I made sure only to open the space twenty feet in. Any more and I might risk passing out before I hit the ground.
I’m moving so fast that it takes a strong burst of wind in the opposite direction to slow me down. The torrent twists me, and I stumble when I hit the ground. But I turn the fall into a roll and get back to my feet long enough to dive into the cave, just before the pursuing giant with the now healed wing, pounds the stone floor behind me. His bones crack loudly from the missed blow, but his attack continues. Even as the six broken fingers reform, the giant reaches in.
“Kid, look out!” Kat shouts.
I jump back, just out of reach and bring my hands together. The stone walls close together, returning to their original state, fusing the Nephilim’s arm with the wall. I have no doubt the giant will simply sever his arm and grow a new one, but we are out of its reach.
“They cannot follow us here,” I say, out of breath.
The wall shakes. The warriors are pounding on the stone.
“Someone should tell that to them,” Kat says.
The small stone tunnel glows yellow, green and blue as Kat takes out her glowing crystal. “Just call me Rainbow Bright.”
Kat’s change in attitude confuses me, but then I remember who she is. An assassin. A trained killer. Unlike Kainda, Em and me, she chose a life of daring escapes, close calls and, let’s be honest, killing. “You enjoyed that,” I say to her.
Kat looks at me, a half smile still on her face. “Yeah, I did.”
“Why?” I ask.
She stops, thinks and says, “Because it showed we could win. You’ve got more tricks up your sleeve than David Copperfield.”
It’s a good answer and not the one I expected.
“Plus it was kind of fun.”
There is it. Her honesty brings a smile to my face.
“Sorry about the big guy,” she adds, her face going serious. “I saw his face. I know what he was. That couldn’t have been easy.”
“He gave his life to save ours,” Kainda says. “It was a good death.”
“Yes,” Kat says, nodding. “It was.”
I’m pretty sure that Kat is thinking of Wright now, not Cerberus, but I don’t mention it. What matters is that their sacrifices aren’t for nothing. And that means pushing forward, or in this case, downward.
I place a hand on the stone, tune out the shaking and pounding from the warriors trying to reach us and feel the subterranean realm around me, searching for some sign of Nephil. After nearly a minute, I open my eyes.
“I can’t find him,” I say.
“Who?” Kat asks.
“Ophion,” I say. “Nephil.”
“You feel vibrations,” Em says, “right?”
“Yeah,” I reply and see what she’s getting at. “He must be moving on those tendrils.”
“So he could be anywhere,” Kainda says, growing frustrated.
“No,” I say. “I know where he’s going. Down. And there is only one way.”
I focus on the rock and it parts with a crack. I keep the tunnel small, three feet wide, six feet tall, just big enough for us to fit down single file. I push it as far as I can, stopping just twenty feet from our destination. The Low River. It passes through the giant cavern and then drops down again. The laboratory is there, where I killed the thinker clone, but we’re going far beyond that, to another cavern, more massive than the one we’ve just left behind, where ceaseless vibrations tell of abundant life.
With the tunnel complete, I drop to a knee, catching my breath.
“Should you rest?” Em asks. More than anyone, she knows my limits and that I’m well beyond them now.
She also knows my determination to expand those limits, so she doesn’t argue when I pull myself back up and say, “No.”
I take the lead in the tunnel, walking with Whipsnap for a crutch. We’re not moving fast, but the fastest route between two spots is a straight line and Nephil is following the winding path of a river.
A river...
I pause and place my hand on the stone again. There is water all around us, flowing through the underworld like blood through veins. I pull it to us. Water leaks from the floor at my feet.
“What are you doing?” Kainda asks.
I don’t have time to answer. The water is coming. I bend down and touch the floor of my tunnel, stretching my thoughts out along its surface, curving and polishing it with my mind. The effort is harder than I thought it would be, but it will speed our progress and provide some respite.
Kat sits on the floor and answers Kainda’s question. “What? Never been to Water Country?”
Kainda just looks confused. “Should...I sit?”
I sit down in the lead spot and say, “Probably a good idea.”
Kainda and Em quickly sit and wait. Water flows from the walls around us, leaking through cracks and holes. Soon there is a stream of water all around us, running downward faster than we could ever move. The pressure builds on my back and I keep myself in place by bracing my feet on the wall.
“Just go with the flow,” I say, and let go.
My homemade waterslide launches me downward. Memories of The Goonies and at least twenty different 80’s action-adventure movies featuring a surprise water slide fill my mind. I can’t help but smile. I glance back. Kainda and Em look serious. To them, this is an express ride to a battle with Nephil, and that’s it.
But Kat sees me and grins. “You know how cliché this is, right?” she shouts over the roar of the water.
I smile back at her, but can’t reply. The grade steepens and the speed picks up to the point where my stomach lurches. The discomfort wipes the smile off my face and the nostalgia from my thoughts, which is probably a good thing. Even the smallest distraction could get one of us killed.
Twenty minutes later, or at least what feels like twenty minutes—we might have been sliding for an entire topside day for all I know—we splash into the large Low River, ending our long slide. After drifting in the current for a few more minutes, and seeing no sign of Nephil’s passing, I find myself distracted once again, perhaps more distracted than I’ve ever been in my life.
21
We stand at the precipice of a waterfall where the Low River drains into a massive chamber, and by massive, I mean I can’t see the end of it. I can’t even see the ceiling because it’s obscured by a layer of fog—more commonly known as clouds. A bright yellow light filters down through the white mist. It almost looks like sunlight, but I think it’s more likely a dense deposit of yellow crystals.
The waterfall pools fifty feet below us before carving across the chamber as a wide, lazy river, disappearing over the horizon many miles away. The land is lush, similar to the cavern in which I spent two years hiding. But this is different somehow. More…pure.
I breathe the air, feeling energized by it. It’s wet, and clean, and smells of life.
But not death.
That is the difference. A pack of cresties stalked my cavern, slaying the giant albino goats on a regular basis. The place, like much of the underworld, reeked of blood and decay. But there is nothing like that in the air here. Not even rot.
The others seem equally stunned.
“What is this place?” Kainda asks. She actually looks a little uncomfortable.
Em crouches at the edge of the falls, clinging to an outcrop of rock. She leans her head out a little further and breathes deep. “There is no corruption here.”
Kat is more practical. “How do we get down?”
“We jump,” I say, holding out Whipsnap. “Just like moving through the water.”
“You have enough juice for that?” Kat asks.
I take a deep breath of the electrifying air. “Actually, I’m feeling pretty good.”
Kat, Kainda and Em step close and I wrap Whipsnap around them. When everyone is holding on, I say, “Jump together. Ready?”
Nods all around.
“Jump!”
As one, we leap over the edge, falling beside the waterfall. A gust of wind slows us and then swirls around our bodies, depositing us on the soft grassy floor next to the shimmering pool at the bottom.
When we separate, I notice that Kat is sweating. “Is it hot?”
“Gotta be around ninety degrees in here,” she replies. “You can’t feel it?”
“I don’t feel any temperature changes,” I say. “I can walk through fire or swim in ice water. It’s all the same to me.” I motion to her black military garb. “You don’t need to wear all that. The dress code in the underworld is a little less strict.”
She looks me up and down, and then Kainda and Em. We’re all dressed for a day at the beach, if you ignore the weapons.
“No thanks, kid,” she says, and I’m surprised by her modesty. “Most of the underground is a lot colder than this. I can handle a little heat.”
“Um, Sol,” Em says.
She and Kainda are standing a few feet away. Both have their weapons drawn. I didn’t see them recover the knife and hammer from the Nephilim they killed, but then again, I was pretty preoccupied. I step to the side and see what has them on guard.
A lion.
A big lion. It has clean tan fur that shimmers when it moves. Its dark mane flows with streaks of yellow. The cat just stares at us, twitching its tail.
“It must be at least twenty feet long,” Kat says, slowly drawing her pistol.
When the lion takes a step forward, everyone tenses. Kainda raises her hammer. Em brings the knife back, ready to flick it forward. Kat takes aim.
But something is wrong. I’ve seen enough nature specials to know what a hunting lion looks like—low to the ground, ears back, claws splayed—and this is not it. If anything, the cat is mildly curious about our presence.
Kainda’s muscle’s tense. She’s about to strike.
“Wait!” I say, placing my hand on Kainda’s hammer.
“If we don’t strike first—”
“Watch,” I say, moving forward, toward the cat.
“Sol...” Em says, using the tone reserved for when Luca or I decide to try something stupid.
I’m just feet from the lion when the brush at the edge of the clearing rustles. The lion turns its head toward the sound and lets out a roar, but it’s more of a friendly sound than a threatening one. A deer prances out of the jungle and skips up to the lion.
I tense. I have my suspicions, but a deer in front of a lion seems like too tasty a treat for the big cat to resist. But the lion doesn’t budge. In fact, the deer comes right up next to the lion, leans its head into the big mane and nuzzles. The lion leans its head down, rubbing the deer’s back. The big cat purrs, the sound so deep and powerful that I can feel it in my chest.
Then the deer trots on its way, stepping into the pool for a drink.
“I find this so much more strange than giants with six fingers and two rows of teeth,” Kat says.
I think I agree with her. This would be odd behavior in the outside world, never mind in the underground where absolutely everything is either killing or being killed.
The lion steps toward me, lowering its head.
I recognize the gesture. It’s similar to what the big male cresty did when I killed the dominant female, Alice, to save Kainda. I stab the blade end of Whipsnap into the grass and step away from the weapon, reaching a hand out. The lion’s fur is softer than I would have guessed. I rub the giant’s forehead, right between its eyes.
The lion purrs again, stepping forward, rubbing its head against my chest. I nearly stumble back, but the big cat lifts its head over my shoulder and pulls me closer. My face is buried in the thick mane as the cat nuzzles me. When it squeezes me tight, I realize that it’s not just nuzzling me, it’s embracing me. With a laugh, I wrap my arms around the beast’s large neck and squeeze. The lion lifts its head and steps back.
“You’re a friendly boy,” I say, and it licks my cheek.
I look back at the others. Em has a hand over her mouth. Kat wears a subtle smile. Kainda has a single eyebrow raised. “Disgusting.”
I turn back to the cat. He’s staring at me with his big brown eyes. There’s intelligence in those eyes. “I’ll call you...” When the name comes to me, I smile. “Ookla.”
Thundarr the Barbarian was one of my favorite cartoons growing up. It featured a barbarian, Thundarr, who I actually now resemble—blond, muscular and primitive. His friends were Ariel the sorceress, and Ookla the Mok, a lion-man like beast who roared a lot and bashed wizards’ heads. I always liked Ookla, not because of his ferocity, but because of his loving, loyal allegiance to Thundarr. The name is a compliment.
The lion lets out a gentle roar. His breath smells clean. Almost fragrant. Then he turns and enters the jungle. Before disappearing from sight, the lion turns back and roars again.
“This is going to sound ridiculous,” I say, “but—”
“He wants us to follow him,” Kat finishes.
My surprise is evident.
Kat shrugs. “I’ve seen enough episodes of Lassie to know when an animal wants to be followed.” She heads after the lion and he steps deeper into the jungle.
I motion for Kainda and Em to follow before starting after the cat.
“I am tiring of these outsider references,” Kainda complains to Em. They’re ten feet back, but I can hear them fine.
“Agreed,” Em says. “And why must he name every creature we come across?”
I can’t see her, but I’m sure Kainda is shrugging. “He is a mystery to me.”
“A mystery worth solving,” Em teases.
I turn around in time to see Em ribbing Kainda with her elbow. At first, I just smile, making eye contact with both of them, sharing a laugh, but then I’m struck by the strangeness of what is happening. Kainda is not only allowing herself to be teased, but seems to be enjoying it. There is no embarrassment and no angry response to it.
It’s this place, I think, looking around. The jungle is thick and alive with life. Creatures move all around, just out of sight, but I have no fear of them. The lion leads us through, pushing past giant ferns and rubbing against the thick bark of trees as it walks. The yellow glow from above becomes a diffuse, green shimmer as the thick leaves of the canopy shift in a breeze that carries the scent of flowers. I don’t know if there is something in the air, but this place is having an effect on us, melting away our tension and putting us at ease.
We clear the jungle a moment later, entering a field of tall green grass that rises up to my knees. The grass bends and sways in the breeze, rising up a gentle hill. At the pinnacle of the hill stands a towering tree, full of lush green leaves and twisting branches heavy with fruit.
The lion turns in a circle, smelling the grass, then satisfied, lies down. It flops onto its side and closes its eyes. The lion’s chest rises and falls slowly, but otherwise it’s motionless. Sound asleep.
“Maybe it didn’t want us to follow it?” Em says. “Maybe it’s not like your Lassie lion?”
Kat grins. “Lassie was a dog.”
I’m about to join the banter when I notice the grass near the top of the hill is bending, as though blown by a hard wind. But there is something odd about the grass. As it bends, it’s forming a path, as though something were moving quickly, just above it, leaving a trail of flattened
grass in its wake. But there is nothing there. I focus on the air above the grass and see it just before it arrives—a shimmer, like heat rising from summertime pavement.
I take a defensive position and realize that I’ve left Whipsnap back at the waterfall pool, stabbed into the ground. I can’t believe I did that! Has my guard been lowered that much by this place? Remembering I have the original Whipsnap attached to my belt, I pull the weapon free and take a defensive stance.
With a gust of wind, the shimmer arrives. A voice says, “You have come close enough.” The voice is commanding and baritone, but somehow soft and gentle at the same time. Then it reveals itself and I’m undone.
My legs go weak.
I fall to my knees.
My face turns to the grass.
I’m...terrified.
22
“Do not be afraid,” the voice says, but I am afraid. I’m not sure I’ve ever been so afraid in all my life. Sure, I’ve been horrified and disgusted by the tortures of the Nephilim. They’ve taken me from my home, broken me, made me do evil things, posed as my mother and made me the vessel for the physical essence of Nephil, which I swallowed, whole. I have been afraid for most of my time in the underground, but never like this. I have never been reduced to inaction.
“Solomon,” it says.
That it knows my name causes my arms to tremble, and I nearly fall flat on the ground.
Quieter now, it says, “You have nothing to fear from me, son of man. Look.”
My eyes turn up just a little and I see two feet standing before me in the grass. They glow brightly, as though composed of light, but the recognizable form reduces some of my fear. I look up slowly. Its legs are solid, but the energy contained within roils with power. Brilliant light obscures the thing’s waist and lower torso, but I catch a glimpse of a white robe. Its chest is broad and powerful. Its arms like solid, living ivory. Its face, if it has one, is lost in a flickering white flare that crackles with electricity.
As I feel my arms begin to weaken again, I wonder if this creature really thought its form would put me at ease. If so, it was gravely mistaken.
The Last Hunter - Lament (Book 4 of the Antarktos Saga) Page 12