Page 64 of Fated to the Wolf Billionaire

“Karanesa! You startled me.”

“Well, you damn old fool, if you weren’t sleeping on the job, perhaps you’d be better at it. We clearly have visitors from the topside.” She tutted angrily as she passed by but didn’t spare us more than a glance as she bustled past with a pile of linens that nearly blocked her line of sight.

“Visitors, I see.” He hopped down from the stool as if he hadn’t just been snoring, stroking down his beard until it was arranged in a long, fine point that extended past his belt and nearly to his knees.

“Welcome to Neftheim. City proper is straight ahead, where ye can hitch a ride in cart if’n ye need transportation. First ride’s free, then ye’ll need centesimo, liras, or francs for any further transportation. Do you need to change any coin?” He looked hopefully between us, but Reed shook his head, and the man continued a bit less enthusiastically.

“Well, then, prepared visitors. If ye’re here for official business, ye’ll be put up in the dignitary’s wings—ye lot do look the sort. Don’t try to venture deeper into the mountain without an escort. Some of the dwarves down deep don’t take kindly to strangers, and their tunnels are booby-trapped accordingly. Can I answer any other questions for ye?”

“We’ve got an appointment with King Cysernaphus at seven for a welcome feast. Where in the city proper do we need to arrange transportation to the royal residence?” Reed asked.

“Oh, well! Royal guests, are ye?” He patted his belly as if this were exciting news he hadn’t expected. “A royal cart will be sent for ye, fifteen minutes afore yer appointed time. Don’t sass the guards. They’re not as lighthearted as we humble dwarves on the fringe.”

“We’re much obliged, thank you, Ardolen.” Reed was smooth and professional, seeming to know exactly how to handle each person we encountered, whether shifter, human, or dwarf. I suddenly understood why he was exactly the right person to interface with important people on behalf of the pack.

“Mighty welcome, mighty welcome.”

As we continued past Ardolen’s sentry post, the tunnel got noisier rather quickly, until it abruptly ended at what looked like a miniature underground train station, but instead of a train, the dwarves—and a group of six bulky, heavily armored creatures I couldn’t name with tusks protruding from their lower lips—were loading into mine carts. Magically driven, but those were definitely four-seater mine carts on tracks.

Just past the loading dock for the mining carts, a vibrant, bustling city sprawled inside a cavern. Vendors hawked wares alongside the mine-cart tracks, loudly yelling and offering things I wouldn’t have the faintest idea of what to do with.

Most of the dwarves wore great hammers on their backs, but others wore overstuffed tool belts, heavy round-lensed spectacles, or what appeared to be their own strange inventions. One particularly brave dwarf was careening overhead with great leather-backed wings that looked like something out of da Vinci’s notebook.

“Next!” a burly dwarf with a neatly trimmed black beard yelled from the loading station, and Gael waved us all forward.

“I think that’s us.”

Between the five of us and our overnight bags, we had to split between two carts. Elodie rode with us in the second cart, while Gael and Leigh took the bulk of the luggage in the first cart.

“Where to?” the dwarf asked, bored.

“Dignitary’s lodging, for an appointment with King Cysernaphus at seven,” Reed answered.

The dwarf nodded, waved a hand, and just like that, the carts rumbled into motion. It was bumpy for only a second as we left the loading dock, and then we rode along smooth as glass, picking up speed as we weaved through residential neighborhoods.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t take it all in. We were moving fast, and there was just too much to see in every direction. The ceiling overhead sparkled a yellowish hue, like the exposed interior of a geode, and the stone-built abodes eventually gave way to grander cave-wall dwellings, as we left behind crying infants and barking dogs and moved farther into the mountain via a very large tunnel.

It was so plebian, yet so otherworldly at the same time. And all the while, the faint crispness of magic permeated the air. Nothing that I could see, but I could nearly taste it on the back of my tongue, like fall air, but more.

“Leaving outer boroughs,” a mechanical-yet-feminine voice sounded from the front of our cart as we exited the oversized tunnel lined with dwellings.

The next cavern was larger and somehow grander. There were no street vendors hawking their wares, no crying babies or twisty, chaotic mine tracks. This reminded me of the ancient ideals of circular cities: the streets ran in concentric rings, wheel-spokes connecting them. But towering over it all in the center was a cylindrical palace.

The exterior was stunning—at least the upper levels we could see from our small cart as it zipped and circled through the streets of inner Neftheim.

Great, arched windows had intricate, sweeping leadwork joining the glass panes, and beautiful, vibrantly painted carvings adorned every single wall, depicting scenes of dwarves engaging in great conquests. Before we reached the entrance, we saw a dwarf kneeling as he was crowned, wielding a mighty war hammer on a battlefield, and yet another constructing a massive tower with hand tools.

Dwarves were clearly a race devoted to craftsmanship.

When finally we rolled to a stop, it was one street over from the grand palace, a tidy row of houses built from stone, still ornately carved, but the luxury and details were in corbels and framing, less so the entirety of the surface.

“Arrived at dignitary lodging. Please disembark,” the mechanical voice chirped again.

As soon as we were out of the carts, the doors snapped shut, and with one last “Mighty welcome to Neftheim,” the carts sped away, twice as fast now that they were empty.

“Wow,” I muttered, staring up at the three-story stone building in front of us.

We’d well and truly gone through the looking glass.

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