Read The Last Hunter - Collected Edition Online

Authors: Jeremy Robinson

Tags: #Fantasy

The Last Hunter - Collected Edition (29 page)

 

 

10

 

When I wake, I find myself tightly bound, unable to move. But I don’t panic. I remember Ninnis’s lesson. Reach out with your senses before revealing you are awake. Some predators in the underworld will wait for prey to open its eyes before attacking. They’re either just mean or waiting for confirmation that their meal’s heart still beats. Either way, it’s often possible to smell and hear enemies before revealing you are awake.

I test the air, drawing in a slow breath through my nose. The most notable smell is Xin’s blood. It covers my body, and his, but the scent smells fresh. Like he’s bleeding now. Lingering behind the strong smell of Xin’s blood is the distinct odor of three hunters. Two men and one woman. I sniff again. It’s not Kainda. She’s either still stuck on my perch or on her way back to Asgard for a Nephilim blood bath, which will quickly heal her wounds.

Loud laughter cuts through the air. The woman. “I told you not to go after him by yourself,” she says, her tone mocking. “A thing like you is no match for Ull.”

“And you followed him into Behemoth’s den?” This is a man speaking. He sounds young. “I have always said you have half a brain, Xin. A hunter must think before he acts.”

“I know,” Xin says, his voice quiet and lacking confidence.

A loud slap of flesh on flesh makes me wince, but there is no reaction to my movement.

“Do not speak to me until I ask!” the man shouts. “You’re lucky I don’t throw you back to Behemoth for letting Ull escape.”

“Next time, track him, and leave a trail,” says the woman.

“Next time,” a second man groans. “Will we never be free of him?”

“When we advance in rank,” the woman says, “and for some of us that will be sooner than later.”

One of the men laughs. The other does not. And without opening my eyes I get a sense of what is going on. The hunters are youths. Perhaps older than me. Maybe younger. But they are not yet full-fledged hunters and they have been partnered with Xin. It’s likely he knows the subterranean realm better than they do, and is a far better tracker, hence their reliance on him leaving a trail.

But what stands out most is that they believe I have escaped! I open my eyes and find myself tucked into a curved alcove that hides my body from the hunters in the tunnel outside. I can see that I am covered in blood—Xin’s, and far more of it than before. He’s masked my scent with his.

He must have reopened his wounds before putting me in here.

“Which way did he go?” the woman asks.

“Toward the gate,” Xin answers. “He had no trouble eluding Behemoth. In fact, the pair seemed to be working together. I suspect the spirit of Nephil in him gives him power over the beast.”

I hear a gasp, and I smile. He’s building a mythology around me that these youth are buying like it’s a 50% off sale. Word will spread and as my infamy grows, so will my enemy’s fear of me. I could probably leap out and send them all running. But I resist the urge. I’m awake, but my body is exhausted.

“What should we do?” the second young man asks. “Go after him?”

“Riodon, you’re as stupid as Xin,” the woman says, giving me a name for one of the voices. “If Behemoth is with him, we cannot hope to take him without the masters.”

“Even without Behemoth, you would not be able to best him,” Xin says.


What
did you just say?” Riodan is angry. I can hear him stepping closer to Xin, no doubt raising his hand to strike.

“He finished his training in record time,” Xin says quickly, “and knocked the crown from the master Ull’s head during his second trial. He defeated Ninnis in his first.
Ninnis
! And you saw what he did to Kainda.”

“She said her injuries came from the beast slain by her hammer,” the woman says.

“She would say that, Preeg,” Xin says. I have two names, now. The woman is Preeg. “How could she reach the creature’s head to strike it down while her leg was broken?”

There’s a silence in the tunnel so profound that I hold my breath for fear of being heard.

“None of us is a match for Ull the hunter,” Xin says. “All of us together could not subdue him.”

Xin and I both know this is a lie. He could have taken me by himself. But I appreciate the pep talk.

“He is the best of us,” Xin finishes. “We must go for help.”

No one argues.

“Then why does he run?” one of the men asks.

“He’s gone mad,” says the woman. “Too weak for the blood of Nephil.”

“I could handle it,” Riodan says.

This gets a laugh from the other two.

Between laughs, Preeg says, “Pyke is twice the hunter you are, Riodan, and not even he would think of taking the blood of Nephil.”

“Hey,” says the man known as Pyke.

“It’s true!” Preeg says.

“Whatever,” Pyke says. “If we’re going to get help, we need to do it now. If Ull is heading for the gate, the masters will want to know. Delivering that news might be enough to advance. At least for some of us.”

“Shut up,” Riodan says.

“Xin,” Pyke says. “What’s the fastest way to Asgard?”

“I’ll take you myself, just as soon as my wounds heal.”

“You’ll take us now,” Pyke commands.

I know Xin could fight back. He could probably wipe their minds clean and leave them a heap of human vegetables. But he somehow restrains himself, most likely reverting to a role he has played throughout his entire life. But he does not give me up. Some part of him is rebelling, learning to be more than his masters believe him to be.

I have found my first ally in this dark place. An outcast, like myself. Thanks to him, these hunters are miles off my trail despite being just feet away.

“Up,” Preeg orders. I hear a slap and I think she’s struck Xin again. “Lead the way.”

I see four shadows pass by the entrance to my hiding spot. The last of the four pauses a moment, sniffing the air. Then he’s gone. A more experienced hunter might have detected my lingering odor mixed with the strong scent of Xin’s blood, but the focus of these three is more on themselves than on the world around them. If any of them pass just one of the tests, I’ll be surprised.

Solomon.

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.

Seek allies.
I remember Xin’s words. But how am I supposed to find allies when this world operates on a kill first, ask questions later policy?

During my brief stint on a soccer team, my coach tried to help me overcome fear. Every time someone kicked the ball in my direction, friend or foe, I clenched my eyes shut, raised my arms to my head and turned away. I was never hit with the ball, but I was terrified of it. The coach, who was a real Grizzly Adams type, got down on one knee, took me by the shoulders and said, “Solomon, sometimes you just need to take a few licks. Then you’ll realize the pain isn’t so bad.”

I’d played dodge ball, the sport in which I was essentially a human target. I
had
felt the pain and it was the very reason I flinched away from soccer balls, which I might add, are much harder than dodge balls. That was my last day on the team. I quit, told my parents why and then we all went to Friendly’s for sundaes.

I wish I could quit now. I wish someone would say, “I understand, Schwartz. Some people are better suited for slaying dinosaurs and fighting man-gods. How about a banana split?”

But all I hear is the running water trickling past my bare feet. I look down at my feet, glowing white beneath the surface of the water. I stand that way for a moment, breathing, collecting myself, trying my best to bury the fear.

But the fear has an ally. My foot turns pink. For a moment, it confuses me, but then the metallic scent of blood hits my nose. The river is full of it. Something has been killed upstream.

A cresty, I think. The cresties have very few enemies in this part of the under-world. In fact, there is only one predator that could kill the dinosaur here.

Hunters.

My heart thumps against my ribcage and pushes a roar of blood past my ears. The only side benefit to this adrenaline rush is that I no longer feel tired. But that does nothing to quell my fear. Ull would have charged ahead, defeated the hunter—perhaps hunters—and continued on his merry way. All I can think of is escape.

I run through the miles of cave systems that I’ve memorized. There is a small crevice twenty feet back. It leads to a good-sized side tunnel, which eventually merges with another river, following in the opposite direction for two miles before emptying into the giant lake at the border of New Jericho—the abandoned Nephilim city where I first encountered my former master, the Nephilim, Ull. I don’t relish the idea of returning to that place, but I remember that Gloop and his pod have swum those waters in the past.

The thought of the seal pod brings a small measure of peace to my mind. I do have friends in the underworld. They’re just not human…or very much good in a fight. I decide on my course of action and stand upright, intending to head back to the crevice.

A mistake.

Not the crevice, the standing upright. I was so blinded by my fear that I ignored my senses. Had I stopped to listen, or really smell, I would have realized the kill, and the hunter, were only thirty feet away. It’s not until I hear a gasp that I realize I’ve been detected.

My head snaps back and meets the eyes of the hunter. He’s young, perhaps around my age. His body is slender and strong, perfectly built for moving through the tunnel system. His hair is blood red, but cut short. He carries two daggers, both dripping with the blood of the ten foot, adolescent cresty at his feet.

His smell reaches me and I recognize it. “Riodan?”

“Who are you?” he asks. I remember that this is the one prone to rash decisions. He won’t back down from a fight, even with the grand stories he’s heard about me.

“Where is Preeg? Pyke?”

“They left me behind.” He spits. “Traitors. Now who are you?”

Several options flash through my mind. I can turn and run. I’ve got a thirty foot lead and I know every single footfall I need to take between here and New Jericho. Riodan is most likely lost. I can tell him who I am and try to scare him into retreating, but he’s unlikely to back down and even if he did, all of Xin’s misinformation would be for nothing. The hunters would know I was not only moving away from the gates of Tartarus, but also headed toward the surface.

Seek allies.

He’s young. Impressionable. And dislikes his comrades. Maybe…

“I am Sol—Ull. The hunter.”

He stands motionless, staring at me, probably weighing his options the same way I am.

“You don’t sound so tough.”

He’s right. I sound like myself. When Ull speaks it’s at least an octave lower.

“Is it true?” he asks. “Has the blood of Nephil driven you mad?”

I can see him flexing his fists. He’s definitely sizing me up.

“I’m not crazy,” I say. “I want you to…join me.”

“Join you?” The request has him off balance. He wasn’t expecting an invitation. “To what end?”

Convincing someone that everything they have learned, that all of the fear they have been instilled with since birth, is a lie, can’t be easy. I decide to keep him off balance with the bold truth. “My master, Ull, is dead.”

The look of shock on his face tells me the news was covered up. “Dead—by my hand.”

I’ve just verbally slapped him for a second time. “What?”

“The Nephilim are not our masters. You can be free. All hunters can be free. You just need to—”

His war cry saves my life. I see the knife coming at the last moment and duck its spinning blade. The thrown dagger sails into the river beyond, but I’m not yet out of danger. Riodan charges.

I see ten different ways to counter his attack. He’s inexperienced and his dagger is no match for Whipsnap. But I’m gripped by fear and I resort to the same tactic I developed in high school. I run.

I reach the crevice and slide in. At first the rough stone grips my body, tugging my flesh as I slide through. But then it opens up and I’m running.

“Blasphemer!” Riodan shouts from behind as he squeezes into the crevice. He’s thinner than me and makes better time. I really don’t want to fight him, and it has nothing to do with my promise not to take human life, it’s because I’m pretty sure he’ll take mine.

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