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

His eyes widen. He did not know our thoughts were shared simultaneously.

“We’re both…broken,” I say.

He stares at me with those yellow eyes, but I see no malice in them now. He turns away, staring at the ceiling of our bony hideaway. “It doesn’t matter,” he says. “It’s going to kill us both.”

I can see he’s resigned to his fate. Whatever is coming, he has no doubt it will be the end of us. But that can’t be true. I’ve killed cresties and even a Nephilim warrior—who are supposed to be unkillable. I control the very air, water and land of the continent. And Xin…not only is he a formidable tracker and fighter, but he can manipulate the mind as easily as I can the weather. What could we not face together?

The ground shakes so hard that the bones above us rattle and shift. If the ribs give way we’ll be buried beneath a mountain of the dead.

“You know me, Xin. Perhaps better than anyone else. You’ve seen who I am and know I wouldn’t lie.”

He nods.

“You are a better hunter than any I’ve met,” I tell him. “Far better than even Ninnis and Kainda, both of whom I have beaten in combat. And you beat me. Beat Ull. I have never faced a foe as dangerous as you. The Nephilim are fools for not realizing it.”

“And yet it is a boy, Solomon, that has defeated me.”

My face scrunches. I have no idea what he’s talking about. I didn’t beat him in combat. That was Nephil. And without Xin, I wouldn’t have been able to contain that evil spirit, either. “It wasn’t me who beat you.”

“But it is,” he says. “Because I cannot kill you now. I can’t even bring you back alive.”

Despite the question being absurd, I ask, “Why not?”

“Because you have shown me a different path.”

Small bones drop through the giant ribcage as a thunderous boom sounds from just outside our shelter. Xin grunts and sits up.

“You shouldn’t move,” I say.

He grunts a wet laugh. “If we are to survive the next few minutes, we will both need to move. And quickly.” He looks me in the eyes, deadly serious now. “Behemoth is here.”

Behemoth? “What is it?”

“I saw in your mind that you call them egg-monsters. Ninnis once told you about what happens to them in the wild. The size to which they grow? Their insatiable appetites? Behemoth is one of the three. It guards the gates to Tartarus. And though its hearing is all but useless, it will soon sniff us out.”

“Tartarus! We’re near the gates?”

“Yes,” he says. “They lie at the other end of this cavern, ten miles from here. That is the second reason the other hunters will not follow. They fear the gates will open and consume them.”

“But you don’t fear the gate?”

“It is hard to feel fear when losing your life means little,” he says sadly.

“Then why do you look so afraid now?” I ask.

I think I see a small grin on his face. “Because you have given me a reason to fear losing my life,” he says. “Hope.”

The sound of loud sniffing surrounds us. I can actually feel a breeze float past me as the air is siphoned past us. There is no doubt Behemoth will soon discover us.

“How do we beat it?” I ask.

“The Nephilim have been building an army for the specific task of killing Behemoth, so they might one day access the gates of Tartarus—the day you are to be bonded with the spirit of Nephil. In fact, if word of you being here reaches them, they might bring that army to bear immediately with the hopes of performing the bonding ritual now.”

A new sense of urgency fills my body. “Then we’ll run.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling you,” he says. “You might be able to hold it at bay with your considerable abilities, and I might be able to attack its mind. But not today. We are both weak. And achieving the task alone might kill us both, if we’re not eaten. Running is our only choice.”

He climbs to his feet, stooping under the six foot high ceiling. He’s moving fast for someone I thought nearly dead.

He notes my attention and says, “My blood is red, like a human’s, but I still heal quickly. A gift from the genetic tinkering of my creators.”

The concept of being created rather than born makes me feel even more empathy for Xin. He has never known the love of a parent, the comfort of family or even the concept of having come from somewhere. He has no ancestors. No lineage. He’s truly alone.

Bones rattle as something large digs into our hiding space. The creature is testing our fortifications. A vibration pulses through the air, shaking my body and making me feel nauseous.

“Time is short,” Xin says. “We must go now.”

“What’s it doing?”

“Purring,” he says. “Behemoth is known for playing with its food. We will suffer horribly before being devoured.”

Lovely.

“Are you able to trust me?” he asks.

“Do I have a choice?”

He shakes his head, no. “Our only chance of escape is distraction. As soon as we move, it will lock on to us and give chase. We need to give it something else to chase first.”