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

I let him take one more step before turning around.

The look in his eyes when he looks down at what I’m holding is priceless. The abject fear and horror that cuts into his face is so pure that every man and woman watching will recognize the expression.

The unkillable monster is terrified.

I put the Jericho shofar to my lips, and I blow. Hard.

The sound that comes out is both deep and high pitched—not exactly pleasant on the ears, but Amaguq reacts to it like he’s just been doused with acid. He falls to the ground flailing, thrashing and spitting. He screams in agony—real agony. All of the pleasure is gone from his voice, replaced by unadulterated pain. And torture.

The soldiers watching don’t know what’s happening, but I do. Amaguq’s heart is softening, perhaps breaking, as he is made to understand the darkness of his kind. The weight of all the evil, corruption and death that he has spawned over the past few thousand years is landing square on his shoulders. An impossible weight to bear.

When I end the horn blast, the words that come from his mouth bring a smile to my face.

“Please stop!” the monster wails. “Please! I’m sorry!” His words descend into a blubbering mess of desperate pleading and sorrow. I hand the shofar back to Kat, who carefully wraps it again. Turning back to Amaguq, I crouch and pick up Whipsnap.

Amaguq sees the weapon in my hand, and then begs me, “Kill me, please! I don’t want to live anymore.”

I step closer. “You will cease to exist.”

“Please, kill me!”

Even I am surprised by the shofar’s effect. I expected something less, maybe a painful distraction. But not in my wildest dreams did I think the Nephilim would drop to the ground, bow their heads and beg for death. The effect will wear off, I know, but the result is far more powerful than I expected, which is also a testament to Nephil’s power. The horn hurt him, but it did not do this.

I grip Whipsnap well below the poisonous purple blood coating the bladed end. I step closer, intending to grant the beast’s request.

Wait.

It’s Xin.

Why? I ask.

Place your hand upon his head. In his weakened state, we will have full access to his mind.

Quickly understanding the benefit of this, I stand above the bowed form of Amaguq and place my hand on his forehead. I feel the force of Xin’s will move through my body and into Amaguq’s mind, then I’m tugged along for the ride, entering the consciousness of a Nephilim.





34



At first, there is nothing but darkness and chaos, a tumultuous descent full of raw feelings. A heavy sense of agonizing regret blankets me and then fades as the darkness resolves. Flashes of reality, experienced through Amaguq’s body, appear, moving backwards through time.

I see myself, consumed by anger, slashing with Whipsnap, and for a moment, I feel the delight that pain brings. Then we’re back, smaller now, inside the form of Mira. Images of Merrill and Aimee flit past. The general. Soldiers. Cruz. All expressing concerns and fears. The sounds of their words amuse Amaguq. Back further, on a ship, looking up at the sky. Nephilim warriors fly above, an army heading out to sea. Merrill looks up at them and speaks, “Your will be done,” praying to the God who has clearly abandoned mankind. It’s all Amaguq can do not to laugh.

Back again.

Amaguq feigns weakness while Merrill holds Mira in his arms, reunited with the daughter he believed dead.

Back again. Riding on the back of a seal. I recognize it right away as Gloop. The rest of the pod follows. He controls them with pain, twisting his fingers beneath Gloop’s flesh. But the seal lives. I know that now. After being delivered to the ship, he couldn’t then kill the seals, and why bother? They’re just animals after all.

The next flash fills my body with an uncommon chill. Darkness envelopes our view, and then resolves. I sense the scene is about to pass and think, wait!

Our reverse trip through time via Amaguq’s memories stops and plays forward.

What is it? Xin asks.

I saw her.

Who?

Mira.

We are still in her form, Solomon. You do not want to see her like—

There!

The image of Mira comes clear. Amaguq walks to her and crouches down. Her clothing has been shredded. Dirt and filth coat her body, darkening her blond hair, which is tied back. Her eyes are closed and fresh blood covers one side of her face.

Amaguq traces his finger through the blood on her face and brings it to his mouth, licking it with his tongue. I can taste Mira’s blood in his mouth, experiencing all of his senses. He chuckles, stands and turns to leave.

Were we not inside a Nephilim’s mind I would have smiled. Did you see it?

I saw nothing I would like to see again before my own life fades, Xin replies.

His eyes saw, but his mind wasn’t paying attention, I think. Watch.

The scene replays. I taste her blood. Amaguq stands, turns and...

Her eyes, Xin thinks. They opened.