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

I hand him his sword and then give the horn to Em. “Teach them how to use it.”


“What are you saying?” Kainda asks.

That she’s upset is an understatement. But the big angel stops her brewing tirade with a hand on her shoulder. The hand is immense on her and she must sense his power because she stops and looks at him.

The angel stops for a moment, whispering to himself as he sheaths the sword, extinguishing the flame. He turns his attention back to Kainda. “Daughter of man—” He brings his hand back around, revealing a small wooden bowl. “Go to the river. Fill this.”

When she hesitates, he adds a booming, “Now,” and Kainda is off and running. Without her support, I slump to the ground. Em kneels by my side, holding my hand.

“Stay with him,” the Kerubim says, heading toward the tree.

“You’ll be okay,” Em says, trying to sound confident, but she’s seen enough wounds in her life to know that this one is fatal for a human being. Of course, knowing where we are, that might not be the case.

“This is Eden,” I tell her.

She looks at me like I’ve just spoken another language. And in a sense, I have. Hunters don’t speak of, or learn about, things like Eden. Kat, on the other hand, knows exactly what I’m talking about.

“You can’t be serious?” she says. “We’re in a cave.”

“I’m not saying I can explain it,” I say, and I quickly tell them everything I deduced about Adoel and this garden of literal Eden.

“What is Eden?” Em asks, growing impatient with the conversation, though I can’t tell if it’s because she doesn’t understand or because I’m basically dying in front of her.

“The story says that this is where the first man and woman lived,” I tell her between gasps. “Where God once walked.”

Kat turns toward me when I say this. I can see it’s sinking in, and it has her spooked, as it rightly should. It means we’re in the presence of something...beyond understanding.

“The one you—” She searches for the word. “—prayed to when we buried Tobias?”

I nod.

“You believe in this now?” Em asks.

The question catches me off guard because I’ve been kind of feeling this stuff. I haven’t questioned believing or not believing. It just is. When my logic kicks in, I say, “I’m—I’m not sure. But look at this place.” We take in the scenery, which ends with Ookla sitting up and looking at me. He gives a gentle roar and lays back into the grass, ignorant to my plight.

Kainda returns from the jungle, walking quickly, but careful not to spill the water.

“Give it to me,” the angel says. Both Em and I flinch. We hadn’t heard him return.

I look up at the otherworldly being as he holds the bowl up. He holds a small fruit in his hand. He squeezes it gently until a single drop of juice gathers on the underside and drips into the bowl. He pockets the fruit and then stirs the water with his finger.

“Am I supposed to drink that?” I ask.

His reply is loud and stern. “No. To do so would...it is unthinkable.” He drops to one knee beside me. “Lie back.”

I obey, lying flat on my back, which makes it harder to breathe. I quickly get lightheaded.

“If this doesn’t work,” I say, “you have to get me out of here before it’s too late.”

“Quiet, son of man,” Adoel says. He stirs the water twice more, then removes his finger from the liquid. He allows most of the moisture to drip away. “Do not be afraid,” he says, and then traces his finger over the puncture wound.

Nothing happens.

“What did you do?” I ask. “I didn’t feel anything.” When I see the relief on Kainda’s, Em’s and Kat’s faces, I don’t really need to look, but I do. The wound is healed. No trace of it remains.

“Breathe,” the angel commands, and I do. My lungs expand, healthy again.

“Thank you,” I say.

Adoel stands and walks to Ookla. He places the bowl at its face. The big cat leans up and clears the bowl with three laps of his big tongue. When he turns back to us again, he’s whispering.

“Who are you speaking to?” I ask.

“The breath of life,” Adoel says. “You are saved because of it.”

“No, I mean—”

“The surface awaits, young king, and your enemy rises to consume the world. You must not let this happen.”

I want to argue. I’m not a king, despite what everyone in the underworld seems to think. I’m still not even sure how I can stop an army of Nephilim, and hunters, and whatever else they have planned. “But before you leave I must give you this warning. Should you—” He looks to Kainda and Em. “—any of you, return to Edinnu, I will cut you down. There will be no warning. No ground covered. No awareness of my presence.”

Message received. Loud and horribly clear. But a question remains. “I thought no death can come to this place?”