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

It’s Xin. He’s in my head, but just at the surface. He knows I can hear him—it would be impossible not to, even if I was deaf—so he continues.

I’m sure you have pieced together what happened. I was lucky to hide you before they came upon me. The frightened pups were waiting at the fringe of Behemoth’s lair, afraid to come in range of its tendrils. It wasn’t until they sensed my return to the tunnels that they came out of hiding. I have bought you some time. Pyke will take credit for the false information I have delivered, and even when it proves to be incorrect he will never admit that he had taken advice from one as low as me. Though…you have shown me that I am not as low as I once believed. As they still believe.

Will I see you again? I ask.

It would be better if you did not, Xin replies. I nearly turned you over to them. You have changed me—shown me that there is more to life than I knew. I cannot deny this. But your world could never accept me as I am. This is my world. Where I was created to thrive. And my ambition remains. We part as allies now, but I cannot make promises for the future. I am part Nephilim. The blood of Nephil courses through my veins.

My chest hurts. My enemy turned ally remains my enemy.

Thank you for accepting me, young hunter. You are the first. I will try not to forget it.

I know what he’s telling me. When I was broken, I forgot everything about my former life. He’s warning me that the same could happen to him, even without being broken. He is part Nephilim, after all, and whatever he’s feeling now might quickly wear off.

I sense his presence fading as the distance between us increases.

What should I do next? I ask.

I cannot tell you that, Xin says. It is better if I do not know your intentions. But whatever you decide, do not think like a hunter. That is what they are expecting. That is what will lead you to them. You are yourself now, Solomon. Think like you. Seek allies. The Nephilim have many enemies, even within their own ranks. One day you will face an army of warriors. Even you are not strong enough to stand against them alone. Now go. Run!

With his last words, an image of the underworld and tunnels I didn’t know existed fills my mind. It’s a map—a path—leading up and away from this place.

Thank you, Xin, I think. But there is no reply. He’s gone.

A sweeping sense of loneliness settles in on me, but I fight it. There is no time to waste. When news of my location reaches Asgard, an army will descend toward me. Ull would stay here. Set traps. And look forward to the killing. If they see Ull as a threat, they’ll expect as much. But I’m not Ull. So the question is, what would I do?

I step from my hiding place and check over my gear. Everything is here. I thank Xin one more time in my head, hoping he can somehow still hear me, and then I head up. Toward the surface. Toward the sun.

And my past.





11



Following Xin’s advice to run is easier said than done. My body is worn down and my mind cries for sleep. But I push forward, and upward, hoping to reach the surface before the hunters can organize a thorough search. Luckily for me, creating a fire line search party through the underground is impossible. This is a three dimensional world of crisscrossing tunnels and there aren’t enough hunters to search them all. Granted, each hunter can sense what is in the tunnels around them without ever entering, but there should be several large gaps through which I can sneak.

But the beginning of my journey is several vertical miles from the surface. And if you count the many winding tunnels I have to walk through, some of which have no grade to speak of, it might be a thirty mile hike before I reach the surface. Perhaps more.

The fastest route is along the underground rivers. They flow at a steady downward grade and carry my scent away from the surface. Any hunters ahead won’t smell me coming. But I still need to watch every step and keep an eye out for any hint of company. Not only are hunters searching for me, countless predators would love to make a meal of me.

Despite not being able to feel hot or cold, the thought of being eaten sends a chill through my body. I stop and steady myself on a stalactite. I hold my hand up. It’s shaking. I’m terrified. This is not what a boy my age should be doing—evading heartless killers in the wild Antarctic subterranean. I should be at home, watching TV, playing videogames and thinking about parties. Well, I hate parties. Social gatherings have always vexed me. But that’s what I’m supposed to be doing. Not this.

I crouch down, squeezing my hands, and notice my legs shaking as well. Fear creeps up on me, burrowing into my muscles, adding to their weakness. I just want to go home, I think.

Ull says nothing to fight back the fear and for a moment, I miss that part of me. I think about unlocking the vault door and letting him out. Ull could fight the fear. But I cannot let him free without Nephil following. I must do this alone.