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

I take out a single strand of blond hair. “This is Mira’s.”


Kainda takes the hair and sniffs it. “No scent.” She looks it over. “It’s the same color as your hair…but the texture is different. Rougher.”

Kainda hands the hair and bandanna back to me. “This…Mira. She is the girl from the image you carried.”

How does she know about that? She sees the question on my lips and answers. “My father spoke of it. Said she was your weakness. That you…loved her.”

While things like love are foreign to hunters, jealously is not. And Kainda isn’t very good at concealing it. But I’m no better at lying, so I tell the truth. “I did love her. I still do, I suppose. She means a lot to me. But twenty years have passed for her. She’s a grown woman. Maybe with a husband. Children. Who knows? But I feel strongly about her father, Merrill, too. And Aimee, her mother.”

“Aimee? Not the teacher?”

I’d left that detail out of my story, but if I’m trusting Kainda, I’m trusting Kainda. “Yes. She is Mira’s mother. She helped deliver me when I was born.”

“But…you took her. Gave her to the masters.” Kainda looks confused, until she sees my downturned eyes. “She does not like me.”

I recognize that Kainda is trying to lighten the mood, but she’s not very good at it. She manages to change the subject.

“Mira. Did you ever…” Kainda places her fingers against my lips.

I smile. “No. Never. We bumped feet once.”

Her forehead scrunches up. “You bumped feet?”

“Hey, it’s kind of a big deal to a fourteen year old boy.”

Kainda’s jealously fades as she laughs at me. And I actually don’t mind that she’s laughing at me.

“They had a dog with them,” I say. I hold up the bandanna. “That’s the strong smell on this.”

“What is a dog?”

Right. There are no dogs on Antarctica. “They’re hairy. Four legs. A tail that wags when they’re happy.”

“Woof.” Kainda does an impression of a dog barking. It’s so spot-on that I know she’s seen it. Seen them.

“That’s it!” I say.

She points out at the water. “They crossed the lake toward Olympus. Three days ago. The dog was with them. It made that noise when your—” She shakes her hand at the water, looking for the right word. “—other friends greeted them.”

“The seals,” I say. “Gloop.”

“The seals. Yes.”

I nearly ask if anyone spoke to them, but it’s clear they didn’t. “We have to find them.”

“Because of her?” Kainda says.

“Because of all of them. Adoni thinks Aimee will be at Olympus, too. And they’re our best chance at getting help.”

She squeezes my hand. “We will find them together.”

Knowing that Kainda, this infinitely dangerous woman who has somehow won my heart, will be by my side when I enter the Nephilim stronghold in search of Hades, and the Clark family, fills me with confidence.

A chill runs up my spine. At first, I think I’m cold, but the nighttime air is still a perfectly comfortable temperature. Then my mind catches up with my body. There’s a scent in the air. It’s subtle, but unmistakable.

Blood.

Nephilim blood.





28



A general rule of thumb for anyone trying to hide from Nephilim is: if you detect their presence, run away. Apparently, neither Kainda nor I, abide by this rule. Instead, we quickly determine the direction of the wind, and thus the direction from which the smell emanates, and run toward it. It’s not because we have a death wish, it’s because people we care about are nearby and in danger. At least, that’s my motivation.

When Kainda says, “You should go back and warn the others,” I know her motivation is the same.

It’s the same reason why I won’t abandon her now. Only one hunter has managed to kill a Nephilim before. Me. And that was with my abilities. If there is any hope of defeating whatever waits for us in the jungle, it is together. Kainda must realize the same thing, because she doesn’t urge me to leave again.

We run, side by side, through the jungle. Fast and quiet. Concealed in the shadow of the canopy that, in the darkness of night, feels almost like the under-ground. As the scent of Nephilim blood grows stronger, we arm ourselves and slow our approach. Even hunters don’t leap into battle without first knowing what they’re facing.

A beam of moonlight streaks through a hole in the canopy, lighting a small clearing. At the center of the clearing is a shape I recognize. Krane. He’s kneeling on the ground, head downturned like he’s injured. Did Krane already face the Nephilim and lose? I step forward, intending to ask, but Kainda’s firm grip on my shoulder stops me.

“Look at the ground,” she whispers.

A ten foot circle of leaf litter has been cleared away to reveal smooth earth below. Strange symbols, like crop circles, have been etched into the soil around him.

“Is it a trap?” I ask.