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“It’s a hill all the same. Get on the mule, June.” They were both tired, hungry, and devoid of wanderlust.

“I’m not riding a mule.”

He dropped the bags he was holding. “I’m done lugging books. Did you notice how everyone at the airport had wheels on theirsuitcases? Not us, though. Nope. We went one hundred percent hand held carryon because—” He pitched his voice high to mimic her. “Ruth’s vintage bag collection’s so cool,” he mocked her earlier enthusiasm. “I’ve been carrying this crap for five thousand miles!”

She rolled her eyes and picked up the bags. “Put the bags on the mule, jackass.Wecan walk.”

Dane mumbled something under his breath and loaded up the mule. “Not a single part of me envisioned this as part of my life.”

Ignoring his grumpy protests, she adjusted the satchel over her shoulder and climbed the decaying steps. They still had miles to go and only a few hours of daylight left.

“You’re a miserable traveler. And I’d like to point out that it took no physical effort for you to carry our bags once we were on the plane, drama queen.”

“I don’t want to talk about that tin can that got us here. That wasn’t a plane.”

“Then what was it?”

“People aren’t supposed to fly with caged chickens on their laps!”

“I didn’t realize you were so bougie. Next time, I’ll spring for first class.”

With little certainty of the welcome they would receive once they reached their destination, Juniper hoped Adriel’s parents were the warm, hospitable sort. If not, she was going to have to sedate Dane.

As the crumbling stone paths darkened withshadows, the earthy aroma of wet stone mingled subtly with the faint scent of olive groves surrounding the city. A chill hung in the air as the sun went down. The soreness in her feet was a constant reminder of the miles they had traveled.

The flight hadn’t been as miserable as Dane claimed, but it had been long. Juniper’s back ached, her clothes were dirty, and she just wanted to shut her eyes—but there wasn’t time to rest. Adriel was in danger and they needed to keep moving.

Thankfully, as they trekked into the old city, they fell into agreeable silence—for most of the journey at least. “How old is this place?”

“Ancient.” No wonder immortals flocked here. Like the Amish farm, this place also seemed untouched by time and modernization.

The stone columns stood like relics steeped in history. Juniper felt traces of magick in the air. History had its uses with witchcraft, and she was eager to test her skills in this place.

The cobblestone roads were worn smooth by centuries of time. Back roads and passages echoed with the footsteps of ghosts. She opened her heart so the spirits would recognize her as a friend and hopefully lend their energies like the spirits back home did.

The solemn cadence of their tired steps moved at a steady pace with the clip-clopping hoof beats of the mule. Juniper looked ahead, her eyes tired with awe and exhaustion. She hoped they hadn’t come all this way for nothing.

Unlike the iconic cerulean blue buildings people typically envisioned when thinking of Greece, the architecture here was constructed from pale limestone. Intricate carvings, worn and weathered by time, adorned many surfaces. Ivy clung to the walls and wove through cracks and crevices in a way that made the structures feel alive. Secrets of great tragedies and victories lingered in the wind, whispering through the streets as they traveled deeper into the crumbling city.

“It’s getting dark. Maybe we should find a place to crash for the night,” Dane suggested, leading the mule. His head turned toward the distant lights where more modernized buildings dotted the horizon. “I bet there’s a hotel with room service that way.”

“That’s not the direction we need to go. The location spell is pulling us north-east.”

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“We can eat when we get there.”

“If we’re not on the menu,” he grumbled.

He was right. They had no idea what they were walking into. Not all immortals followed a peaceful code. Not that being Amish was any sort of guarantee against cruelty and corruption. But it at least set a standard.

These guys could be cold-hearted killers. What if they were evil, like Cerberus? Adriel never spoke about her upbringing. If her parents were nice, wouldn’t she have mentioned them?

It didn’t matter. Without Adriel, Juniper hadlittle to live for. She would do whatever was necessary to save her. If her mother and father could somehow help their crusade, she would get down on her hands and knees and beg them for assistance. She could not lose Adriel.

Her love had become inarguably clear. They might not be mates, but something brought them together. Adriel was a part of her destiny.

The scent of the sea thickened the air. Juniper’s skin wore a layer of sweat under her clothing despite the cold, and she welcomed the gentle breeze that whispered through the narrow streets. Sometimes she caught the fragrant bouquet of blooming jasmine nearby, but this place mostly smelled of salt and sea—two powerful elements that could help her if needed.