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

A question strikes me like a lightning bolt. This being might know about my parents, too. I open my mouth to ask, but the glowing man holds his hand out in the universal motion for, stop.

“Knowing the answer to your question, one way or the other, will only serve to distract you,” he says.

I close my mouth. It’s a horrible answer. A painful answer. But I can’t argue the logic. If I knew my parents were alive, I might try to reach out to them, or at least spend time thinking of our reunion, or what their lives were like and if they had any more kids. But if I find out they’re dead... Depression would grip me. I would eventually overcome it, but right now, at this moment, a lapse in strength or focus on my part could be disastrous. Of course, that doesn’t mean I won’t push for more information on Em’s family.

“Where?” I ask, desperate for the knowledge that could reunite Em with her family. “Where is Em’s family?”

The being turns his head to Kat. His eyes glow brightly. “Tell them.”

I nearly fall over when I yank my head toward Kat. What could she possibly know? Has she met this creature before? Is she not who she claims to be?

Kat stares at the grass, lost. She looks up slowly, first at me and then at Em. “They’re in New Mexico.”

“How can you possibly know that?” I ask.

“It’s where I grew up,” she says.

Em is stunned. “You know them?”

“I work in a dangerous business,” Kat says. “The people I know, the people I love, they’re always in danger. I do what I can to protect them. Including changing my name.” A tear trickles down her cheek. “My last name—maiden name—isn’t Ferrell, it’s Graham. My name is Katherine Graham.” Tears flow freely. “I’m...” She looks at the being and he nods. “I’m your sister.”

Em gasps. Both hands go to her mouth. “No,” she says. “You’re lying.”

“I was a baby when you were taken,” Kat says. “You were only two. But I’ve seen your picture a thousand times. I didn’t see it at first, but I do now. Your eyes. You have our mother’s eyes.”

“She speaks the truth,” the glowing man says.

Em lowers her guard and approaches Kat. She regards her slowly, inspecting her face, the hint of freckles around her eyes, the shape of her lips.

They do look similar, I think.

Em smiles, crying now as well. She puts her hand on the back of Kat’s neck and lowers her head. Kat does the same, lowering her head until their foreheads touch.

“Sister,” Em says. It’s just a whisper, but it carries the weight of familial recognition.

Kat confirms the new bond, repeating the word. “Sister.”

Even Kainda is getting a little misty eyed. I started crying around the same time Kat did, but it doesn’t take much to turn on my tear duct faucet. For Kainda, this is a powerful moment. She’s not used to seeing a true family bond at work. I take her hand, and she squeezes me tight.

“Family bonds the four of you with a strength that cannot be broken.” He motions to Em and Kat. “Sisters.” He motions to Em and me. “Brother and sister.” Then he motions to me and Kainda. “And betrothed.”

My face reddens and I nearly crack a joke to change the subject, but Kainda’s grip on my hand tightens. She was offered to me by her father, Ninnis. I turned down the offer then, but from what I know about hunter custom, the offer still stands. I look at Kainda, and nod.

She doesn’t gush. Doesn’t break down in tears. She just sniffs, straightens herself up, and with just a hint of a smile, says, “Good.”

I realize I’ve just made a huge life decision, but honestly, who else could stand by my side for the rest of my life? She’s beautiful, and strong, passionate and trustworthy, and we share the pain of being broken by the man she called father. We share an understanding that no one else could. There is no one else like her.

The being’s tone becomes deadly serious. “It is time.”

He reaches to a belt I had not yet noticed and takes the hilt of a sword. When he draws the blade out, it glows with an intensity that makes me squint. As I grow accustomed to the light, I see the blade more clearly. It’s a long, ornate sword, unlike any I’ve ever seen before. The sword itself is normal, almost common looking, but the light blooming from it comes from a fire that even I can feel.

“I have never released this sword,” the being says. “Nor do I want to, but the choice has been made.”

“All things are written,” I say.

He nods and turns the handle toward me. “Nothing can stand against the power of this blade. Not even the dark one’s spirit. Take it and turn Ophion away.”

“I can kill him?” I ask, eyes going wide. “I can stop him, right now?”

“No,” he says. “Death cannot come to this place. Not Ophion’s. Not yours. Do not kill him. Do you understand?”

I nod, feeling a mixture of confidence and disappointment.

He places the handle in my hand. The sword, despite its size, feels light. I can feel the heat from the fiery blade, but it does not burn me.