The Last Hunter - Descent (Book 1 of the Antarktos Saga) (21 page)

26

“You were watching me the whole time?” I ask Ninnis before taking a bite of the meat I’ve just prepared over a fire of dried dung. The cresty is tender and juicy like pot roast and I have to slurp the juice from my lower lip after biting it.

“You weren’t in eyeshot the entire time.” He takes a bite and talks with his mouth full. “That’s impossible down here. But I was never more than a few hours behind you, following your tracks, inspecting your kills, gauging your progress. You almost caught me once.”

My eyes widen at this revelation. I had no idea Ninnis had survived, let alone remained close by. “When?”

“You found the photo, yes?”

“I did.”

“I noticed you were exploring every tunnel and knew you’d head toward the surface. I was leaving the photo behind, when you returned.”

“Where did you hide? I didn’t see any cracks or tunnels above that spot.”

Picking his teeth, Ninnis reveals, “I was outside. Above you. Be glad you never looked up or your test would have come early.”

Before I can ask what he means by that, he asks, “What did you do with the photo?”

“Destroyed it,” I say. The lie comes easily. I see no reason to tell him I kept the image. I still don’t know why I did it, but I think telling the truth will somehow fail one of his tests.

“Why?”

“The image revolted me.” This, at least, is the truth.

“You didn’t recognize the people?”

“Should I have? Who were they?”

“Relics from your past, but you’ll never see them again.”

“Good,” I say, tossing my meat to the ground, my appetite sapped by the memory of the two smiling faces. “Why did you expose yourself?”

After a good burp, Ninnis rubs his stomach and says, “It wasn’t my intention to expose myself.”

I squint at him, suspecting the truth before he confirms it.

“I was to kill you.”

“But you failed.”

He nods. “And you passed.”

I sit straighter, puffing out my chest.

“Don’t get cocky, boy. Besting me was a simple thing compared to what comes next. You’ll lose the next fight you’re in. There is no way around that.”

This news deflates me, and I can hear the truth of it in Ninnis’s voice. He’s not trying to frighten me. There’s a look in his eyes, too, like he’s remembering his own test.

“Then what’s the point?” I ask.

“The test isn’t about winning. It’s about how you lose. There are only two possible outcomes. You’ll die, or you’ll be broken.”

“Broken?”

“You remember your first days with me?”

I remember the dog days well. Ninnis’s commands were like the very word of God to me. My obedience was unquestionable. “I do.”

“But you are not that frail boy anymore. You are Ull, the hunter. Confident. Skilled. But obedient? Not anymore.”

I cross my arms. “You haven’t asked me to do anything.”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “One look in your eyes says you’re more likely to gut me for asking anything of you than to obey. That will change tomorrow, but it won’t be my voice that commands you. It will be your master’s.”

I pick up a cresty leg bone that’s been picked clean and play with it in my hands. “My master... What can you tell me about him?”

“You tell me,” Ninnis says. “You’ve already met him.”

My stomach clutches. I nearly regurgitate my meal. “The giant.” The words escape my mouth like a gasp. “At the temple.”

“We call it, New Jericho,” Ninnis says with a nod. “As a reminder.”

“A reminder?”

“Of the treachery of man.”

“Who is he?” I say, unable to hide the quiver in my voice.

“It’s good that you’re afraid,” he says. “Shows you still have some common sense left. You might just survive the breaking.”

I lean forward, anger filling my eyes and bunching my muscles. “Ninnis, who is he?”

The old man actually relaxes under my harsh gaze. He leans back. “Your master is your namesake.”

My nose crinkles. This makes no sense. “Ull? How can I meet myself or be my own master?”

The question sends Ninnis into a fit of laughter. I wait it out as patiently as possible, realizing that he was speaking of the giant. A giant who shares my name. Ull. Norse God of the hunt.

Norse God of the hunt!

I launch to my feet. “Ull is
real
?

Still snickering, Ninnis says, “All the ancient gods are real, though they are not gods in the sense that men believed them to be. They are certainly godlike, having supernatural fathers and human mothers, but they are not all powerful creators. Some would have you believe as much, but it’s just not true. They are, however, our superiors in every way. And they’re nearly as old as mankind. Our half-brothers.

“At first, we worshiped them. Their size and strength set them apart and above us. They were the heroes of old.”

“The men of renown,” I add.

He gives me a hard stare. “How do you know these words?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve retained a lot of information despite having no memory of where or when I learned anything.”

He accepts the answer and continues. “Despite their heroic feats, mankind turned against them. With numbers too great to count, a flood of humanity forced the masters underground, long before this continent lay at the bottom of the world. And then the world shifted and Antarctica froze over, trapping the masters here, where they wait for a thaw, and freedom.”

“Why don’t they wage war on the surface?” I ask.

“They will,” Ninnis says. “When their leader returns.”

“When will that be?”

Ninnis shrugs. “I don’t know. But I suspect you will have something to do with it.”

“Me?”

“You are a child of Antarctica. The first and only human child born on the continent in thousands of years, since before the shift. Their magic—they call it spirit—courses through Antarctica to the core. The creatures you’ve seen. The gigantic caverns. This whole world couldn’t exist without it. And when you were born, some of that spirit merged with you. The moment you returned, they knew, and I was sent to bring you home.”

This was all fascinating, but my mind has wandered back to my impending meeting with the true Ull. “Then he can’t kill me.”

“Oh, he rightly can,” he says. “And will without hesitation if he thinks they have misjudged you. And you have a lot of ground to make up.”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t make a good first impression.”

I remember my meeting with the giant (Ull) at the temple (New Jericho). I had been terrified. Confused. Unhinged. I frown at the memory of his laugh. The deep bellow had permeated my core. And I must face that laugh again. Tomorrow.

My hunter’s instincts return. Before any successful hunt, I must rest. My intellect wants to spend the night asking Ninnis questions, but my instincts tell me to sleep because tomorrow I will face death, and if I’m to die I want to do it well rested.

“Then I will make a better second impression,” I say before lying back and closing my eyes.

I hear Ninnis laugh again. “And how will you do that?”

“Simple,” I say. “I will draw first blood.”

27

Five minutes after waking, we start walking. And we keep walking. For hours. Then we’re squeezing, climbing and swimming. All in silence. Ninnis’s attention is on the journey and all the potential threats along the way. I focus on these things as well, but I’m also thinking about what will happen when we reach our destination.

Ninnis claims to not know our destination, only that we must enter the master’s territory. Once there, he’ll find us.

Some time ago, we crossed the border of my mental map and entered the unknown. I’ve been extending the map in my mind, but for any other purpose than backtracking, it’s useless without exploring the side tunnels. I make note of all the tunnels, cracks and crevices we pass, along with rivers, bodies of water, pitfalls and other important markers, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever return.

I think that’s what bothers me. I hate not knowing. It must be some kind of core personality trait because the less I know about this day, the more I’m consumed with irritation.

Ninnis’s hand slaps against my shoulder. He’s ducked behind a boulder at the end of the tunnel. The space beyond is hidden from view, but the ceiling is vast. He spins back to me and hisses. When danger is near, this is his way of saying, “Shut-up and stay put.”

But as he observed the night before, I’m no longer subservient to him. I sniff the air. It’s a cresty. I look at Ninnis and feel sorry for him. The scent of cresty blood is easy to detect. The dinosaur is injured. And close. There is nothing to fear.

I leap over Ninnis, Whipsnap held high, and land on the boulder. I scramble silently up the stone. Near the top, I crouch on my feet, preparing to leap out and attack. The size of the cresty doesn’t matter. If it’s injured, it will fall as easily as a pup. I glance back at Ninnis, who is now up and smiling, and charge over the boulder.

As I move, something about Ninnis’s smile strikes me. It’s so subtle I nearly miss it. And it’s not so much in the shape of his mouth but in the shape of his eyes. A little pinch of his crow’s feet that says I’m about to learn a lesson.

Look before you leap, I think.

And I do.

And nearly too late. But I’ve managed to stop myself just as the blade of an axe bigger than my body whooshes up from below. Had I jumped out as planned I would have been cut in two.

The giant stands. He’s monstrous.

His red hair extends from his head down to a full beard that is braided and decorated with human skulls. A large cresty head rests on his head, just above a thick band of gold covering his forehead. The cresty head is attached to a skin hanging down behind him like a cape, containing a quiver of arrows the size of a pole vaulter’s pole. He holds a massive bow in one hand and the axe in the other. His red haired chest is bare. His upper arms are adorned in gold bands, and cresty skin gauntlets cover his forearms. He wears tall, brown, soft-soled boots. A gold-buckled belt holds up a brown-scaled skirt.

He is every bit the giant god-man you’d expect...if you could fathom such a thing. Before this moment, I’d thought I could. I’d seen his back side before, though dressed differently. But nothing could prepare me for this monstrous form.

I look at Whipsnap. My weapon is pitiful. I steal a glance at my pale body. The physical prowess I’ve earned during my time underground seems wholly inadequate.

For a moment I wonder if submission is the point of this test. To acknowledge his superiority over me. Pledge my allegiance to him.

As he notches an arrow (I didn’t even see him attach the axe to his belt, but there it is) I know this is wrong. Everything Ninnis taught me has led to this point and the biggest lesson he has taught me is ruthlessness. Ull will be no different. And I can’t be either.

I focus on the bow. The string goes taut. The silver tip of the arrow fades from view as it lines up with the spot between my eyes. This is when I act, arching back as far as I can without falling over. I see the giant arrow pass over my face. I feel the tickle of its large feathers against my stomach.