“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.”
“A distraction.”
“Yes.” He points at the bones around us and I understand what he wants me to do. The effort will leave me taxed and my escape, and my survival, will be completely dependent on Xin, who nearly succeeded in killing me only hours ago.
The bones around us shake violently. The creature is coming. I close my eyes, focus on the air in the giant cavern and put my life in Xin’s hands. There is a howl outside, but it is not from Behemoth. It is my wind, swirling around. I can feel the giant form of Behemoth standing in the way of my wind, slowing it down, and I have to push harder to build speed. With a shout, I pull the wind in, and then up.
My hair flies up as the strongest gust of wind I’ve ever generated slides beneath the bone mountain and lifts it high into the air.
A confused roar deafens me and shakes the walls of the cavern. I open my eyes. The bone shelter is gone and Xin is running toward me. He scoops me up with little effort and throws me over his shoulder. The wind is knocked from my lungs repeatedly as Xin runs, and I am too weak to stiffen my stomach muscles or even adjust myself. But I do manage to look up.
The bone mountain has shot a hundred feet in the air and has bloomed out like a mushroom cloud. But it’s not nearly high enough to block Behemoth’s vision. The monster stands one hundred and fifty feet tall. Its black bulbous eyes are the size of swimming pools. Its body is similar to the smaller egg-monsters—essentially egg shaped, mostly jaw and teeth, but the red clumps of hair growing from random spots on the creature’s body are long—and moving. Like tentacles, they whip out and snatch bones from the air, snapping them in two.
The giant head is tilted to the side, like a dog thinking, as it watches the flying bones finish their arc through the air and begin falling back down. That’s when it sees us. Something within the black eye nearest us shifts and I know we’ve been spotted.
Behemoth lets out a roar that shatters the cloud of bones before it and sends the shards flying away. One of them catches Xin in the shoulder and I hear him grunt, but he does not slow. Which is good, because Behemoth takes a step in our direction and cuts the distance between us in half. Rope-like strands of red hair shoot out in pursuit.
I try to shout a warning, but I don’t have enough air in my lungs to even whisper. In fact, my vision is starting to fade.
The jolts of Xin’s footfalls slow and I feel we’re moving downward, or perhaps he’s crouching. I can’t tell. But the deceleration allows the living hairs to gain and one of them launches toward my face. A surge of panic rips through me and a gust of wind strikes the hair to the side.
My life is saved for the moment. But the effort has taxed me beyond my limits. A fuzzy haze fills my vision and consciousness fades as a faint scent tickles my nose. The other hunters are near. Xin has betrayed me.
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, andfar 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 s
ays, “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 his 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 Behemoths 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 thi
s part of the underworld. 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?”
The Last Hunter - Pursuit (Book 2 of the Antarktos Saga) Page 6
