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

For a moment, I wonder how it is this ancient man-monster can speak English, but decide it is one of the least perplexing things about this world. Ninnis could have easily taught him the language.

When Ull takes a step toward me, cutting the distance between us in half, I know there is nowhere I can run. With no weapon, I have no defense. My only consolation is that he’s not nocking an arrow or wielding the axe. But when his arm reaches back, I know he’s going to strike me.

I could run and might avoid his reach for a time. I might even make it to Whipsnap.

But what he has just shown me makes the effort useless. Ninnis told me that this was a fight I could not win. And he’s right. Killing Ull would be impossible.

As the swing descends I think I should try to relax my body as tense limbs can’t flex and break more easily. But no matter how hard I will myself to stay limber, my muscles cramp up with a sudden twitch.

Two things run through my mind before the blow connects.

This is going to hurt.

And, if he’s not trying to kill me now, I passed!

A grin spreads on my lips a moment before he sends me flying. I feel my arm and several ribs break. I see the floor passing beneath me. There goes Whipsnap. How far did he hit me? I spin around and see the stone floor of the cavern rising up to meet me. Landing may hurt more than being hit, and my insides cringe. With the twist of fear comes a burst of wind. It doesn’t stop me, but it certainly slows me down.

I hit the stone, roll for several feet and then slide to a stop on my back.

The pounding of Ull’s feet is hard to ignore, even with my body screaming out in pain. I turn toward him, wondering if he’s done. The look in his eyes says he’s not.

So I stand to face him again.

There is no pause when he arrives. He simply strikes me and sends me flying. I land near the entrance.

I think both arms are broken now, but my legs are fine. It’s hard to say, as I feel the pain from my wounds from head to toe. I turn and see Ninnis’s feet nearby.

Then Ull is pounding toward me again.

I sit up and try to stand. It’s harder without my arms.

“Stay down, you fool!” Ninnis hisses at me.

But I won’t stay down. My body may be broken, but my will isn’t. And I know what I want. Ull has revealed the true nature of the spirit living in me.

Anger. Hate. Pain.

I crave it.

It fuels me.

I spit blood at Ninnis’s feet and face my master.

Ull stops above me, pausing. I can feel my face swelling and I’m sure he can see it. I smell my blood seeping from countless wounds. My arms dangle uselessly. I am beaten. I am broken.

I look up at him, meeting his eyes.

My body wobbles. I giggle. The funniest quote has entered my mind. I don’t know what it’s from, but I know it’s funny and I speak it aloud. Mimicking Ninnis’s proper accent, I say, “Please sir, can I have some more?”

Then I laugh hysterically.

The last thing I remember about this day is Ull saying, “You have earned the use of my name today, little Ull.”

Then he honors my request, and gives me more.





29



After a long time not feeling hot or cold, the burning that courses through my body upon waking makes me scream. Ninnis is above me a moment later. I can’t hear his words over the pain, but his open palms are urging me to stop.

I see my arms then, flailing like wounded fish, splashing something red that could be my blood, but looks more like fruit punch. I focus on my arms and stop them.

But I’m still screaming.

Ninnis is right above me now. He’s enunciating very clearly and though I can’t hear his voice over my own, I can read his lips.

“Calm down,” he says. “It hurts less if you don’t fight it.”

I try. I try my best. And reduce the scream to a whimper.

But the pain is so intense, permeating me to the core, that I think bottling it up completely might make me explode.

“What’s happening?” I manage to squeak out.

“You’re being healed,” he says. “The technique is typically used on a limb or wound, but your whole body was broken. You almost died. We had to immerse you.”

I manage a look down. I’m lying in what I can only describe as a stone tub. It’s full of watery red liquid. “What is it?”

“Ull’s blood diluted with water. Straight blood would kill you.”

“Feels like it’s killing me.”

“If we left you in there, it would. In fact, if you hadn’t been born here, I think it would have already. But you seem to have a little bit of their blood in you already.”

I give a weak nod. “The spirit of the Nephilim.”

Ninnis leans in closer. “Where did you hear that name?”

It’s hard to focus on an answer, mostly because I don’t know, and that’s what I tell him.

He stares at me. I can tell he doesn’t believe me.