The Last Hunter - Descent - Jeremy Robinson [55]
The distance between us is less than ten feet. Two leaps from stalagmite to shore will close the distance in silence. And then, Whipsnap will finish the job. I picture my movements like I do before any kill. One leap. Then another. In the air I’ll flex Whipsnap in my hands and upon landing, will let the mace spring loose and sweep out the predator’s legs. Once it’s down, the spear tip will finish it off.
Had the hunter turned around it would have seen my white teeth spread in a smile. But it didn’t turn.
I leap once. Then again.
Whipsnap bends. And snaps!
I hear a roar of pain as Whipsnap sweeps its legs. The creature falls back. A cough escapes its lungs as the air is knocked from them. I pull the spear back, lining up my strike, aiming for the thing’s core. My muscles tense, ready to thrust the spear home.
“Wait!” the hunter screams. The voice rolls down the Deep River cavern. I pause, which is strictly against my rules of engagement, and had the voice been any other, I would have struck. But I recognize this voice. It disarms me.
“Ninnis?” I ask.
“Help me up, Ull.” A hand emerges from the shadow.
I take hold and pull my mentor to his feet. Despite being dead and nearly killed again, his smile is infectious.
“Well done,” he says.
I eye him up and down suspiciously. There is no hugged greeting. No cheerful reunion. I am a hunter now. “I thought you died.”
“I know. But it takes more than a little snow to kill old Ninnis.” He leans against a stalagmite. “Not that it didn’t take its pound of flesh.” He holds up his left hand. His pinkie and ring finger are missing. “Frostbite.”
I know I should feel some kind of compassion about my friend losing his fingers, but think, if he’d been faster, he’d still have those fingers.
He seems to sense my assessment of his injury and gives a nod. He wouldn’t be soft on me, either.
“Why didn’t you come to me earlier?” I ask.
“This was the first of three tests,” he says.
“Surviving on my own?”
“That was part of it, yes. But you also beat me.”
“You had to do the same thing when you were trained?”
He nods.
“What happened to your trainer? Is he still alive?”
He laughs. “No, no. I ran him through.”
He sees the shift in my gaze and my tightening grip on Whipsnap. He knows what I’m about to do.
“You can kill me if you’d like. I’ve seen the way you handle that weapon. But it’s not necessary.”
Our eyes lock. “Why did you kill your trainer?”
“The man was a savage. A brutish relic from the past. He deserved to die. I’d like to think I’ve done right by you, Ull.”
I loosen my grip on Whipsnap. “You have.”
“Besides, if you killed me now you might never pass the next two tests.”
“Tell me about them. The tests.”
He waggles a finger at me. “Later.” He eyes my kill. “Right now, I’m famished.”
I pull the cresty out from its hiding spot and squat down next to it. If a roast leg commemorating Ninnis’s return will loosen his tongue, I’ll oblige him. My curiosity over the next two tests has been piqued. Not to mention the long list of questions I have about the creatures and locations I have discovered since he went missing. And if he doesn’t answer my questions, well, I might have to unleash a little savagery of my own. Either way, I’ll get my answers. But it’s nice to have someone to talk to. I would prefer to not have to kill Ninnis yet.
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