The Last Hunter: Collected Edition (Antarktos Saga #1-5)

Ull seems to fare better. Not only are his wounds gone, but he looks like he could take on a polar bear in a wrestling match and come out unscathed. I suppose it’s easy to let go of reality when you’re all heart. My mind has a hard time accepting that this reality, isn’t real. But I do my best, because I suspect all the physical strength in the world will matter little in this place.

The darkness howls and spins closer. The four of us form a circle. Ull is to my back, Xin to my right and Luca to my left. Each one of us now holds a Whipsnap of our own. “Stand your ground!” I shout.

The specters swarm again, their yellow eyes burning. They attack, one at a time, swooping, striking. I feel their claws pass through me, but remind myself that they cannot hurt my body, because it doesn’t exist here.

But the effort is tiring. I sense the others losing strength, too. And as we tire, Nephil grows stronger.

Ull shouts, swinging Whipsnap at everything that comes close, but to no effect.

“Ull,” I shout over the howling wind. “Do you feel it?”

“What are you talking about?” He shouts back.

“This wind. In your hair. Between your fingers. It belongs to us.”

He turns to me and I see the blackness assault his back. He grits his teeth and gives it no attention. I face him and put out my hands.

“We will settle things between us,” he says. “When this is over.”

I nod, and he puts his hands in mine. A blast of emotion fills my mind. All of Ull’s anger is passed on. All of his power. And something surprising: love. But there is no time to dwell on this. I siphon his energy, my energy, and build a cyclone of my own. It radiates out from us, enveloping Luca and Xin and shielding all of us from further attack.

Xin turns to me, shouting over the rushing wind. “You cannot contain him this time! He is too strong!”

“Then what?” I ask.

“You must expel him!” Xin shouts. “Cast him out! Without a body, he will be undone.”

So I push.

And my cyclone expands against the darkness. I feel myself growing weary, the drain of using the elements seems to affect me even in my mind. But still, I push harder. Ull screams, his rage fueling me.

“You’re doing it, Sol!” Luca shouts. The boy’s voice and the innocence I hear in it strengthens my resolve.

My scream merges with Ull’s, our combined voice exploding the whirlwind outward. The blackness bursts. The white world returns.

Ull and I both fall to our knees, heaving with each breath.

“Did…it work?” I ask.

“Almost,” Xin says. “He is wounded, but still here.”

I look up and see the darkness retreating into the form of a Nephilim warrior. The black giant staggers back as though struck, clutching his stomach. When the thing lifts up its head, yellow eyes glow at us.

“Get up, brothers,” Xin says, his voice filled with urgency. “We cannot let him regroup!”

Before I can get up, Xin charges with a battle cry. To my surprise, Luca follows him, Whipsnap raised to strike.

Ull looks over at me. I can see his blazing eyes and savage grin behind the curtain of red hair that hangs over his face. “Come, Sol,” he says. “Let’s finish this.”

We rise together, running side by side. The wind at our backs lifts us into the air, our twin Whipsnaps poised to strike.

Xin reaches Nephil first and slices a deep cut into the thing’s leg. But it does no damage and he’s kicked aside. Luca fares no better as he strikes and passes right through the leg. He stumbles and falls behind the giant. Ull and I share a glance as we descend toward Nephil. We’re thinking the same thing.

Of course we are, I think. We are me.

Ull arrives first, stabbing Whipsnap at the giant’s chest. But the action is a ruse. He spins the weapon around, bringing the mace side up toward Nephil’s head. At the same moment, I put my mind to work, imagining the golden ring that protects the Nephilim soft spot.

There is a clang of metal on metal and the ring is knocked free. And where the ring once was, there is now flesh. Not blackness. Not some supernatural cloud. The forehead revealed beneath the ring undulates with a pulse.

With a battle cry that would make Ull proud, I draw Whipsnap back, take aim and thrust it forward. The tip strikes flesh and tears through.

A scream more horrible than anything I’ve heard—the scream of a being that has waited thousands of years to be set free from a prison or torment—tears through my mind.

And then I’m back. In the real world.

There is no longer blood at my feet. Instead it covers the bodies and faces of the six Nephilim kings still standing around me. The cyclone I created in my mind must have been formed here as well. When exhaustion pulls me to my knees, I have no doubt.

I realize that the massive chamber has fallen silent. I scan the faces around me. They’re not looking at me, they’re looking above me. I turn my head up and find the blackness of Nephil spinning above my head.