“They nearly got us,” she says, confirming the story.
“It’s how I knew he was back,” I say. “Your father. I didn’t know you were here until later.”
She smells the bandana. “Smells like Vesuvius.”
“Vesuvius?” I’m confused for a moment. The bandana smells like a dog. Then I realize who the dog belongs to. “Of course. Your father’s dog!”
“Did you meet him?” she asks. “He’s a big Newfoundland.”
“I didn’t see any dogs at the FOB,” I say. “But I wasn’t there very long, either.”
“Hey!” Kainda shouts from further up the tunnel. She sounds a little annoyed. “You’re the one who wanted to rush. So—rush!”
She’s right of course. I wait for Mira to tie her hair in place with the bandana, and then we set off up the tunnel, double timing our pace until we rejoin Kainda.
After another mile, the grade increases to the point where even I’m feeling the burn in my thighs.
Mira mutters, “Jane Fonda eat your heart out.”
“No kidding, right?” I say.
Kainda doesn’t get the reference and even if she did, I doubt she’d find it funny. In fact, when I look up and see her legs—the muscles accentuated by a sheen of sweat—I wonder if she’s even fazed by the ascent.
I do a quick reach out with my senses, looking for the aberration that caused me to stumble. It’s just a quarter mile ahead. The tunnel, which is fairly straight, suddenly angles and spirals straight up. I start to follow the path upwards, but then Kainda says. “Up ahead. Look.”
I stop and peer through the dark, at first not recognizing what I’m seeing, but then the sharp angles leap out at me. “That’s unexpected.”
“What is it?” Mira asks. “I can’t see a thing.”
Her orb of blue light allows her to see, but the glow doesn’t come close to reaching the end of the tunnel.
“A staircase,” I say, then use the momentary pause to follow it upwards, through the mountain. It’s just over a thousand feet tall, probably fifteen hundred steps, but the top...isn’t the top. “There’s a chamber.”
“What’s in it?” Mira asks.
I shrug. “I can’t sense things at that level of detail. Only broad pictures. There could be anything inside.”
“Anything living?” Kainda asks.
“I—I can’t tell,” I admit. “All the rumbling footsteps outside are making everything kind of hazy. Either way, up is the only way we’re going.” I head for the staircase and reach it a minute later, pausing at the steps. They’re old and worn, hewn right out of the mountain itself. The steps spiral upwards, straight through the core of the nunatak.
It’s Mira who makes the observation both Kainda and I have missed. “These stairs were made by people. For people.”
When the Nephilim build staircases, there are often two sets of stairs, one with four-foot tall steps for the warriors and other large classes, and a smaller set for hunters, gatherers and thinkers. Besides, even without the larger set of stairs, this tunnel was clearly never used by Nephilim. It’s far too small. All this and the fact that Kainda doesn’t know about this place leads me to conclude, “This was built before the Nephilim controlled the continent. Back before it was frozen over!”
My excitement is crushed when a rumble violently shakes the tunnel.
“We should probably get to the top before they bring down the whole place,” Mira says.
With a nod, I lead the way up the staircase, growing dizzy after the first fifty steps, spinning around and around like a human corkscrew. But I don’t really pay the dizziness any heed. Or the growing ache in my legs. Or the rising volume of the thunderous footsteps permeating the stone around us. My thoughts are of what we’ll find at the top, and who built it.
11
“The rumbling is fading,” Mira notes as we near the top of the spiral stairwell. She pauses, placing her hand on the gray stone wall. Its surface is smooth, almost soft to the touch, no doubt as polished as it had been when it was abandoned. “Maybe they’ve passed?”
I lift my leg and take another step up, which at this point in the climb, feels like a small victory. Steps are supposed to make scaling heights easier, but they really just put all the strain on a few muscles and bones. Had we been scaling a wall, all of my muscles would be sharing the burden. “It’s just because we’re above them,” I say. “The shockwaves are moving down and out, away from the impacts. So the effect isn’t as severe if you’re above the source of the vibration.”
“Thanks for the sciencey, Einstein,” Mira says with a touch of sarcasm.
“Thank you,” I retort, “for making me feel like I’m back in school.”
“Please,” Mira says, about to launch into some kind of witty diatribe.
The Last Hunter: Collected Edition (Antarktos Saga #1-5)
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