The Last Hunter - Descent (Book 1 of the Antarktos Saga) (27 page)

A smile stretches onto her face. “I’m sure you have.” The smile fades. “If everything you’ve told me is true, we can’t let it happen. We have to stop them.”

“Just the two of us?” I laugh at the insanity of it.

“No,” she says. “Just you.”

My smile fades. She’s serious.

“I’m not sure I’ll survive the day. I don’t know what they have planned for me, do you?”

I don’t, and I shake my head. “I won’t let them kill you.”

“You may not have a choice.”

“Why?” I say, my voice raising an octave. “Why do I have to do this?”

“It’s not fair,” she says. “Lord knows, it’s not fair. Your heart...your heart was so pure.” She looks at the floor as sadness sweeps over her face. She doesn’t want to say any of this to me. But she does, because she believes it. “Sometimes people are chosen for things that are so much bigger than them. But they are given the strength to persevere, to see it through.”

“But what can I do?”

“I don’t know.” Her honesty is killing me. “But you are the next step in their plan. They cannot move forward without you. And that gives you the advantage. No human child has been born on Antarctica since you. You are unique, Sol.”

“You think they won’t kill me?”

“What do you think?”

I’ve passed their tests. And I am the only human Antarctican. But can they wait for another? They’ve waited thousands of years to find me. But in another thousand years, where will the human race be? Probably living on other planets. Probably strong enough to resist them. She’s right. If they’re going to attack and win, it will have to be soon. With me as Nephil’s vessel. “You’re right. They won’t kill me. But maybe I should kill myself.”

She grabs my arm, squeezing tight. For the briefest of moments I have the urge to swat her away, but I fight it. I’m in control. Not Ull.

“Killing yourself is never an option,” she says. “You don’t think that ever again.”

When I don’t respond, she takes my chin and gives me a good motherly stare. It feels good to be so cared about. “Never again,” she says.

I concede. “Never again. But what then?”

A voice from the hallway makes my hair stand on end. It’s Ninnis. He’s calling for me. For Ull.

“You’re the smartest boy I know, Solomon,” she whispers quickly. “You can control the very elements around you. You know what they want. You’ll figure out how to stop it.”

“I don’t think I ca—”

Ninnis calls out again. He’s closer now. Approaching the door.

Aimee’s eyes widen with fear. “Your face,” she says.

I’ve been crying. My eyes are probably swollen. I can feel my dried tears on my cheeks. Ninnis will see my weakness the moment he opens the door. “Get on the floor. Don’t move until we leave.”

She listens and immediately dives to the floor, feigning unconsciousness. I jump over her, place Whipsnap next to me and plunge my hands into the bowl of water left for Aimee on a stone countertop. As the door opens I splash the water onto my face and scrub the tears away.

“Ull?” Ninnis says. “What are you doing?”

I turn to Ninnis, fighting a rising sense of doom, and smile. “She threw sand in my eyes.” I laugh.

Ninnis approaches and looks at Aimee’s motionless form, then to Whipsnap. “You struck her?”

Be Ull
, I say to myself.
Adopt his personality, for now
.

“She deserved far more,” I say and then point to my vomit. “Once in the stomach to make her bow. A second to her head to silence her.”

Ninnis checks her pulse. “She’s alive.”

“Why?” I ask. “Why is she still alive?”

Ninnis smiles and looks up at my face, which is still dripping with water. “She’s to be a teacher.” He inspects my eyes. “She got you good.”

I rub my eyes. “Does it look that bad?”

“The redness will fade,” he says. “You’ll look yourself again for the banquet. Of course, we’ll have to keep this to ourselves, Ull the future Lord of the Nephilim almost bested by a human woman!” He lets out a guffaw that tenses my back.

I force a laugh of my own. “Let me help break her.”

“Alas,” he says, “Teachers are not broken. Her knowledge of the outside world is important. Her memories must remain intact, for now. I’m sure when they’re done with her, you can do whatever pleases you. Until then, she is not to be harmed.” He hands me Whipsnap. “Understood?”

I attach the weapon to my belt, as comfortable with it in my hands as ever. The personality of Ull may be suppressed, but my acquired skills and knowledge have remained. I nod.

“Good,” he says. “It’s time to go. There are many who want to meet you before we dine. Your reputation has spread to the coasts and beyond.”

Beyond?
I think, but before I can ask what he means, I see movement outside the door.

35

“Ahh,” Ninnis says to the newcomer. “You made it.” It’s a woman, dressed in clothing similar to mine, but with a breastplate. The weapon hanging from her belt is a mallet with a stone head. One good whack from that could crush just about any skull in the underworld, except maybe a Nephilim’s. Her hair is red, like Ninnis’s (and mine), but her skin is deeply tan. She is far younger than Ninnis, but she’s an adult. I place her around thirty years old, but with time so different down here, she could be eighty. I’m shocked when Ninnis greets her with a hug.

He motions for me to follow him outside Aimee’s room, which I now realize is not locked because there is no chance of escape. I leave the room and close the door behind me. Pretending to be Ull will be easier if I know Aimee cannot hear the things I say.

“Ull,” Ninnis says, “I’d like you to meet Kainda.”

She takes my hand in a crushing grip. For a moment I nearly shout in pain, but then remember who I’m supposed to be. I return the squeeze and then some. My emotions may have returned to a more fragile state, but my body is still strong. I apply pressure until I see her wince. That’s when I see the resemblance.

“Your daughter?” I say.

Ninnis looks surprised. “How did you know?”

“You have the same eyes.” I work hard to hide my disturbing thoughts but can’t resist asking. “She was born here? On Antarctica?”

“I was,” she says, “but I’m not like you.”

I raise an eyebrow, allowing it to ask the question I can’t, because I fear my voice will quiver.

“The breeders have tried to bind humans to the spirit of Antarctica for longer than we have lived,” Ninnis says. “They have grown humans. They have bound humans to animals. They have even allowed us hunters to take wives and have children of our own. But nothing has worked. Not until you were born.”

“And we had nothing to do with that,” Kainda says and then smiles. She is much more pleasant to look at than Ninnis. Her teeth have yet to rot. “You’re special.”

An honest smile comes to my mouth. “So I’ve been told.”

“And please don’t say it again,” Ninnis says. “It’s going to his head.”

The friendly banter is confusing me. Ninnis seems like the polite English gentleman he would have been before his corruption. Maybe it’s Kainda, or simply that my trials have finished. Are the Nephilim more civilized than I have come to believe? Will pretending to be Ull be as hard as I thought?

“If you’d like,” Ninnis says, “You may have Kainda as your wife.”

My heart hammers in my chest. This will be even harder.

Kainda bows. “It would be my honor.”

Ninnis stares at me a moment and then breaks out laughing. “Our fearless hunter is blushing.” He claps me hard on the shoulder. “If Kainda is not to your liking, there are many more women for you to choose from. Perhaps even some your age.”

Kainda looks positively scorned as Ninnis leads me away. I turn back and offer a, “Nice meeting you.” She doesn’t reply. She just clips and unclips the hammer hanging next to her slender thigh.

She is beautiful
, I think.
In an Amazonian headhunter kind of way.

“Will she be angry?” I ask once we’re out of earshot.

Ninnis cackles. “She has killed for lesser offenses. But she wouldn’t dare touch you, lest she be sent to Tartarus herself. And you may yet change your mind about her. She is one of your clan, after all, and clan marriages are preferred.”

My mind runs through a list of Norse gods. The hammer is the giveaway. “She belongs to Thor.”

“Your observations serve you as well as ever,” he says. “Thor is Ull’s father. The hierarchy of the clan would normally allow Kainda to choose
you
as her mate. But your future as Nephil’s spirit holder gives you...special privileges.”

Like the privilege to not have a mate at all
, I think.
Not for a long time. And certainly not down here.

He leads me down a large spiraling staircase. The inner steps are small, human sized. The outer rim has four-foot steps built for Nephilim feet.

At the bottom of the stairs is a creature I’ve never seen before. It’s about five feet tall and spindly, sporting arms and legs like a walking stick insect. But its head is large and shaped like an upside down egg. Two dark almond-shaped eyes frame a tiny nose and a slit for a mouth. It just stands there, watching us.

“Ull, this is Lagash,” Ninnis says to me.

“Greetings Ull,” I hear, but not with my ears. The voice is in my head.

In my head! Can it hear my thoughts?

I fight my growing panic and say, “Greetings to you, Lagash. You are—”

“A gatherer.” Its voice enters my consciousness like a hammer-driven nail. “Do not resist my voice, Ull, it can damage your mind.”

I try responding with mine, the way Ull might.
You have not yet known damage
. I focus on an image of me beating Lagash with Whipsnap.
Stay out of my head.

I see his black eyes shift to my belt. Then he bows and steps away.

A few moments after we pass, Ninnis looks back at Lagash, who is still standing by the stairway. “What did you say to him?”

“I showed him what would happen if he forced his way into my thoughts again.”

Ninnis laughs. “Be glad he is a lesser gatherer. The elders are more dangerous than any warrior.”

“Be sure to point them out to me, then, so that I do not offend.” I fake a laugh and give Ninnis a punch in the shoulder the way Justin used to do to me, the way that says,
we’re friends
.

We’re in a part of the citadel I’ve never seen before. The hallway is lined by massive, forty foot doors. Ancient statues fill house-sized alcoves. And carvings, as detailed as those found in the world’s ancient tombs, decorate the walls. I can hear voices and footsteps beyond the doors. But we see no one else. He leads me to a set of double doors so vast I think you could fit a 747 through them.

He shouts out in a language I don’t understand, then notes my attention. “Sumerian,” he says. “The original language of the Nephilim, which was then taught to men. You’ll learn it soon enough.”

A loud creaking echoes in the vast hall as the doors open inward.