Mahon chuckled.
Aunt B was next, smiling so bright, I needed shades. Her voice was sweet enough to spread on toast. “So you are Mike Wilson’s daughter. He must be so proud. What a beautiful girl you are.”
“Thank you.” Lorelei almost glowed.
Oh, you naive thing. When a bouda smiles at you, that’s not a good sign. Especially that particular bouda.
“On behalf of Gagra, I’m here to extend the hospitality of my beautiful city to you,” Hibla said. “Gagra welcomes you with all of its warmth, its lakes and waterfalls, its beaches and orchards. But be forewarned, if you come here with violent intentions, we will leave your corpses for the crows. We have no problem murdering every single one of you.”
“Awesome speech,” Keira told her. Jim’s sister was smiling, and it didn’t look friendly.
“Thank you. I worked hard on it. Please, follow me.”
We trailed her down the pier and onto the road paved with stone. Hibla kept a brisk pace, reciting in a throaty, lightly accented voice. “Welcome to Abkhazia. The city of Gagra is the warmest place on the Black Sea. We have a wonderful microclimate with warm winters and pleasant summers. You will find the most exquisite landmarks here.”
It was like she was reading an invisible travel guide.
Curran was looking at Lorelei as we walked.
“We grow a variety of fruit: peaches, persimmons, apricots, pomegranates, tangerines, lemons, and grapes. Our region is famous for its wines.”
That’s nice. Maybe I could find a wine bottle hard enough to hit Curran over the head and knock some sense into him.
“What pack do you serve?” Barabas asked.
“The Djigits of Gagra are not affiliated with any of our guests. Our allegiance is to the local pack and to the lord of the castle.”
It was as if I had stepped into a different world. Across the ocean there were crumbling skyscrapers. Here there were castles and lords. Well, technically the Keep was kind of a castle and people did call Curran lord, but at home shapeshifters said it with simple efficiency, the way one would say sir. Here it was said with a solemn reverence.
“Is the lord of the castle a shapeshifter?” Curran asked.
“No, he’s a human,” Lorelei said.
“Lord Megobari is a friend,” Hibla said. “Our economy was always driven by tourism. After the Shift, the region collapsed. We had been battered by natural disasters and war. Our city and our lives were in ruins. The Megobari family helped us. They built hospitals, they restored our roads, and they brought business to us. They don’t ask anything in return except for our protection, which is freely and gladly given.”
Okay. The Megobari family were clearly saints, and the local jackal pack would die to keep them breathing. Considering how the men glared at us, we had to make sure not to offend the host, because these djigit shapeshifters took their duties deadly seriously.
We all followed Hibla through the town. The feylanterns in Gagra glowed pale lavender, turning the solid stone of the buildings into a faint mirage. Magic flowed down the narrow, curving roads. Neat little streets, some cobbled, some still bearing crumbling pavement, ran along the side of the mountain, all sloping up, bordered by houses of all shapes and sizes. Persian, Greek, and modern architecture collided, like wakes from three different ships.
We passed a stately mansion that could’ve been built for a Moorish prince. It rose, flanked by palms, three stories of narrow arched windows, textured parapets, and stone wall carvings that looked as light and delicate as lace. At one point it must’ve been glowing white, but now it had shed its paint, and green walls showed through. A Greek building of Doric columns the color of sand followed, and immediately after, the ruins of a modern apartment building lay scattered over the mountain slope. The rest of the world seemed a thousand miles away. If we ever got tired of the Pack or living in anticipation of being found by Roland, we could find something like this, an isolated quiet corner of the world. Nobody would ever find us here.
Well, nobody but Lorelei.
“When you saw my father, did he mention me?”
“No,” Curran told her. “It wasn’t a social meeting. I’m sure he thinks of you often.”
Another once-beautiful and now-gutted building. I counted the stories. Seven. Too tall. Magic hated tall modern buildings and attacked them with extreme prejudice. This building was definitely abandoned—the black holes of its empty windows showed a charred interior. When magic waves took down a structure, they gnawed it to dust first. This one showed no signs of post-Shift damage.
“What happened here?” I asked.
“War,” Hibla said.
“Who did you fight with?” George asked.
“Ourselves. Abkhazia is on the border between Russia and Georgia. Fifty years ago they fought. Neighbors turned on their neighbors. Families split. Russia won. The city was cleansed.” She spat the word as if it were studded with broken glass. “Everyone who was Georgian was killed or exiled.” She nodded at another building with boarded-up windows. “The city was scarred forever. The magic has destroyed the other buildings, but the war ruins remain.”
“Such a shame,” Aunt B said. “Your city was beautiful.”
“She will be beautiful again,” Hibla said.
We kept climbing, higher and higher. The city road narrowed. Dense trees on both sides blocked the view, their branches braided together with vines. Tiny fireflies floated on the breeze. Abruptly the trees ended and we stepped out on a plaza. To the left, far below, endless sea lapped at the narrow ribbon of the shore. Straight ahead, mountains curved gently to the waves.
“The castle.” Hibla pointed to the far right, behind us. I turned. An enormous stone castle crowned the top of the mountain, its stone walls rising like the natural extension of the living rock. Wide rectangular towers soared under pale blue roofs. The long narrow flags flying on the thin spires from the huge building of the main keep caught the last rays of the setting sun and glowed as if they were on fire.
“How old is the castle?” Mahon asked.
“We celebrated its twenty-year anniversary last fall.”
Wow. Post-Shift. The amount of labor this structure took had to be staggering. How the hell did they even get that much stone up the mountain?
“Please.” Hibla invited us with a sweep of her hand. “Up this road.”
We went up the mountain at a brisk pace. Any faster and I’d have had to start running. The path was steep and the light was dying fast. Ten minutes later I broke a sweat. The shapeshifters around me seemed fresh as daisies.
“It must be very tiring for the Consort,” Lorelei said next to me.
That was a bit unexpected. Was she actually concerned?
“The road is steep and she doesn’t have the benefit of night vision.”
She was looking at Curran. No, she wasn’t checking if I was okay. She was talking about me as if I weren’t even there. The way one would say, Is your little dog thirsty? Does she need a bowl of water?
“Perhaps a mount could be brought . . . ?” Lorelei suggested.
Out of a corner of my eye I saw both Barabas and George freeze. Yes, I know I’ve been insulted. Settle down. “Thank you for your concern. I can manage.”
“Please, it’s no trouble at all. You could hurt yourself. I know that even something minor like a twisted ankle would present a big problem for a human . . .”
Do not punch the pack princess; do not punch the pack princess . . .
“We wouldn’t want you to struggle to keep up.”
Okay, she went too far. I gave her a nice big smile.
Curran’s face snapped into a neutral expression. “We just got here, baby. It’s too early for you to start killing people.”
Lorelei’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean any offense.”
Yeah, you did.
“I’m so sorry. I was only concerned. Please forgive me.”
And now anything I said with any hint of hostility would make me look like an ass. She’d outmaneuvered me. Fine. There was always the next time. “Don’t worry about it.”
We rounded the bend. The castle loomed in front of us, shockingly huge. You could pack at least two Keeps within its walls. Thick walls, too. Had to be more than a couple of feet deep.
Hibla raised her head and howled, a high-pitched ghostly jackal howl. The sound rolled past us, streaming to the sky. Other howls answered. Metal clanged and the massive gates swung open.
Hibla bowed. “My lord and lady. Welcome to Castle Megobari.”
I took a deep breath and walked next to Curran into the castle.