5 Onslaught by Jeremy Robinson Page B

pride. Maybe its that the legendary “girl
in the photo” is giving her such high praise, or that she could clearly take
Mira in a fight, I don’t know, but she’s enjoying the moment.
    But
then Mira goes and steers the conversation into a telephone pole. “This looks
like Mjölnir, but smaller.”
    Kainda
and I both stare at her, unmoving.
    “Mjölnir,”
she says again. “You know, Thor’s hammer. You’d think you two would know this
since...”
    I
can see her mind working. She’s figuring it out.
    “Since what?” Kainda asks, her face grim.
    “You
knew him?” Mira asks. “The real Thor, I mean?”
    “Yes,”
Kainda says, taking the hammer back. She stands, clips the weapon in place and
starts walking away.
    Mira
looks to me for an explanation.
    “Hunters
are trained to use the preferred weapon of their masters,” I say.
    It
takes a second to sink in, but then Mira’s eyes go wide with understanding.
“She was Thor’s...but...” She stands quickly, shouting, “Kainda, wait!”
    I
know for a fact that chasing Kainda down when she’s just stormed away to be on
her own is a bad idea. I jump up and head off after Mira, but she’s running now
and has a good lead.
    Also,
Kainda has stopped walking. She turns and faces Mira with a look that could
make a Nephilim warrior squeal in fright. She’s about to say something, but
Mira beats her to the punch—luckily, not an actual punch.
    “You
must have just missed it,” Mira says, oblivious to Kainda’s dark mood. “Back on
the river, when we escaped in the boat, Thor was one of the Nephilim chasing
us.”
    “Then
you are truly lucky to be alive,” Kainda says and starts to turn away.
    Mira
puts her hand on Kainda’s arm, stopping her.
    “Mira,”
I whisper, but before I can finish my warning, Mira finishes her story.
    “Kainda,”
she says. “We ran Thor over in the boat. The water washed right over him. He
drowned.”
    Kainda
whips around toward Mira. “Drowned?”
    Mira
nods. “Thor is dead.”
    I
have seen the transformation a hunter goes through upon learning his or her
master has died. It’s like an invisible bond is severed and all the tension and
hatred created by the connection is released. I saw it with Tobias, Em’s foster
father, when he learned that I killed Ull, his former master. But his reaction
is mild in comparison to what Kainda experiences.
    Her
hammer slips from her hand and lands with a thud. She falls to her knees beside
it, arms shaking. She looks up at her quaking hands for a moment, clenching
them tightly, probably frightened by the intensity of her own emotions. Then a
sob escapes her lips and I’m by her side, on my knees, wrapping my arms around
her.
    Kainda’s
powerful body wilts under my touch. Her muscles go slack. Her back shakes with
each sob and tears, bona fide tears—from Kainda —drip
onto the cave floor.
    I
have no idea what to say. Or even if I should say anything. Kainda is more of an actions-speak-louder-than-words type, so I decide to stay
quiet. My presence and physical contact are enough.
    When
I open my eyes and lift my head, I surprised to find Mira kneeling down on
Kainda’s other side, one hand around her lower back, the other holding their
heads together like they’ve known each other their whole lives. I can hear Mira
whispering. She speaks about pain and loss, strength and courage, and about
love. I only catch bits and pieces, but I hear my name in there a few times.
    When
Mira pulls away, all of the tension is gone from Kainda’s body. She’s no longer
shaking and her strength has returned. She sits up, takes a breath and looks at
me. Nothing physical has changed, but she looks different somehow. Not exactly a softness , but something...wonderful. While the Jericho
shofar freed her from the Nephilim corruption, some part of her must have still
been bound to her former master, maybe not physically or supernaturally, but
mentally. Perhaps she feared facing him someday. Who knows what