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

“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.