It took them the entire morning to leave Bra?ov. The old Mercedes somehow managed to hit every red light at every intersection. The aging cab driver had been waiting at the station, holding a sign that read: “Welcome, Finn Weber”. From the moment they set off, he spoke nonstop in some strange language, waving his hand left and right as though he were explaining the world itself. Sunk deep into the wide seat, Finn only nodded along. Four hours of this torture? Well, it could have been worse.

  Still, his first job! He was on cloud nine. A position even before his final exam. He remembered the unease during the interview: sitting before a camera, with no people, the questions coming through a loudspeaker. “Please, step closer to the microphone”. A hundred candidates in the waiting room, and he, the only one now traveling in this white vessel of the road. “Talk all you want, old man”, he thought. “I’m enjoying the sound of your voice, even if I don’t understand a word”.

  The wheels rolled onto smooth highway asphalt. The city faded behind, and before them stretched a vast sea of fields and farms, unfamiliar places with stranger names. Hours later, they turned onto a local road.

  They kept climbing higher. The landscape shifted like film reels. Dense forest spread on both sides, mile after mile. Up and up. His ears clogged from the altitude. He cracked the window: the air rushed in, resinous, damp with leaves, sharpened by the mountain chill. Near the top, the driver flicked on the blinker and pulled into a lonely parking area. Muttering a few sentences in his language, he opened the door and disappeared into the trees.

  Through the window Finn spotted a spring bursting straight from the rock. He got out to stretch his legs, leaned down, dipped his hand into the water, and yanked it back. The stream was so cold he couldn’t hold it for more than a second. He filled his bottle, drank. Each swallow stabbed his teeth with icy needles. He returned to the car.

  “What’s taking him so long?” Finn looked toward the woods. Nothing. Not a soul. His back stiffened. How much did he actually know about this place? A foreign land. Eastern Europe. An incomprehensible language. A mysterious employer. A large sum already wired to his account… Had he really thought this through?

  Still no driver. Finn stepped out again, but before he’d taken two strides the man reappeared, buttoning his pants with both hands. He waved cheerfully and hurried back.

  They continued on, now downhill. The road twisted through cliffs blasted apart decades ago when socialist youth brigades had carved the route. A sharp left, drop, then right, another drop. On and on.

  Eventually the road straightened. The slope eased. Half an hour later, they found themselves in a small town. A sign read: “Piatra Corbului”. The streets held old cars, some relics from the Soviet era. A handful of people, a few children. Crumbling houses gave way to shabby shops.

  They slid alongside a high stone wall and followed it for a while. It led them to an imposing gate. Along the top bristled a row of iron spears. The wrought iron, twisted and ornate, formed two black lion heads with gaping jaws and long fangs. The driver pressed the intercom, spoke a few sentences. Finn caught only his own name. The gate clicked and slowly swung open.

  White gravel replaced asphalt. The drive curved briefly before ending at a large fountain. Beyond it rose the estate, an old villa, almost a small castle. Built in the seventeenth century, it had changed hands often: wealthy families, the Communist Party’s information bureau, a Red Cross warehouse. And now, property of his employer, the company “Howard and Dunham”.

  Above the heavy stone foundation, two stories of ornate fa?ade rose: stone lace in the shape of wheat stalks crowned the windows, an eagle with outstretched wings loomed over an oak door darkened by age and studded with iron rivets. A steep roof of stone shingles pressed down upon it all, pierced by a dozen chimneys, their sooty caps thrust toward the clouds.

  With a screech of brakes, the Mercedes stopped at the base of the entrance stairs. The driver went to the trunk while Finn, mouth slightly open, stared at the residence. Pointing to the suitcases, the chauffeur extended his hand. They exchanged a few words and smiles, understanding nothing. Then the driver touched his forehead in salute and drove off down the road.

  Finn dragged the suitcases up the wide steps. On either side, two columns supported a massive arch above the door. Hanging from them, two enormous lanterns of wrought iron spilled light through cut glass. Beneath, two small cameras tracked his movement.

  The hinges groaned, and the doors opened just as Finn reached them.

  “Welcome, Mr. Weber,” came the greeting, in perfect English.

  The man extending his hand wore a sports jacket and jeans. Short, broad-shouldered, with a hand the size of a shovel and thin hair swept over a very obvious bald crown.

  “Thank you, Mr…” Finn replied, shaking his hand.

  “Andrei. A pleasure. I trust your trip went well? No problems?”

  “Not at all. Everything was fine,” Finn answered.

  “Excellent. Here, let me help you with the luggage.” Andrei took the suitcase handle.

  They stepped into the entrance hall. Gray and white marble tiles, set diagonally, covered the floor. At the center a cross of black stone stretched its arms in four directions: left to the dining room, right to the library, straight ahead to a twin staircase rising to the upper floor. In the middle of the cross lay a crest: a wolf’s head with crossed swords. Above it an inscription read: “Bene venisti si honorem habes”.

  Balustrades of carved stone columns rose along the walls to the painted ceiling. Its faded colors depicted scenes from some long-ago battle. From the ceiling’s center hung a thick chain bearing a nine-tiered crystal chandelier. Candle sockets had long since been wired for bulbs.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  The walls between the columns were covered with paintings, portraits of unknown former owners, landscapes, still lifes. The stair railings, polished by centuries of hands, spiraled upward in perfect symmetry around broad wooden steps. Between the flights, mounted on a carved panel, a massive wolf’s head bared its white fangs in a menacing grin. “Is it real?” Finn wondered, startled by its size. Beneath it, a broken archway had been sealed by gleaming chrome bars. A new magnetic lock glittered on the gate.

  Andrei led him through white double doors with stained-glass panes into the dining room.

  The first thing Finn saw was the long, massive table, supported by four central pillars that rested on carved wooden paws. Along its sides stood high-backed chairs with ornate carvings, upholstered in deep red velvet, fourteen in all. Before three of them, place settings had been laid, with gleaming silver cutlery.

  To the left, three tall arched windows overlooked the fountain. To the right lay the kitchen, old and sturdy, its thick plank doors reinforced by an “X” brace across the middle. A single slab of stone, nearly as thick as a forearm, covered the lower counters.

  At the heart of the kitchen stood the hearth. An enormous wood-fired stove, with four broad roasting compartments, large enough to hold a whole boar, was set back between two massive wooden beams angled forward. These in turn supported horizontal timbers that bore the weight of a brick chimney, rising and narrowing toward the ceiling.

  Before the hearth stood two people, holding steaming cups.

  “Allow me to introduce your new colleagues, who arrived a little earlier,” said Andrei, gesturing with his hand. “This is Priya Sharma, our software engineer from the Indian Institute of Technology in Bombay, and Li Wei, a server specialist from Tsinghua University.”

  Li struck Finn as unusually tall and thin, especially for an East Asian frame. His sharp black hair jutted out in unruly angles, and thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. Finn couldn’t help but think that Li’s thigh was slimmer than Priya’s upper arm. He wore tailored slacks and a jacket whose sleeves fell just a little too short, as if borrowed or hastily chosen.

  Priya, in contrast, seemed carved from an entirely different world. She was small in stature, with long, black, gleaming straight hair that cascaded over her shoulders. Her red lips framed a warm smile, and her large brown eyes, round and liquid, like those of a camel, gave her face a striking softness. She wore a long skirt and a brightly patterned blouse, with a scarf draped lightly across her shoulders.

  “A real pleasure to meet you,” said Finn, extending his hand.

  “Likewise. Welcome,” came the reply, followed by firm handshakes and broad smiles.

  “Care for a cup of tea? It’s fantastic, local herbs from the mountains. We’ve already made ourselves quite at home,” Li joked.

  “Gladly,” Finn accepted the offer.

  Li walked to a hanging cabinet, fetched a crystal jar of crushed herbs and began to prepare the tea.

  “Well, I see you’re already settling in. We want your stay here to be as pleasant as possible. Later I’ll give you the keys to your rooms upstairs. They’re wonderful, each with its own name. Finn’s is called “Blue Mountain Knot”, Li’s is “Green Bitterroot”, and Priya’s is “”, - Andrei added with a hint of significance.

  “Later, you’ll also be briefed on detailed protocols. Your obligations to the employer will be delivered in your rooms, in the form of letters. I know it may seem unusual, but it’s necessary for security reasons. Electronic communication can be compromised, and here, discretion is imperative.”

  “And where will you be staying?” Finn asked curiously.

  “Unfortunately, I’ll be leaving tonight. My duties were to oversee the setup of the house and the installation of the security systems. That work is now finished, and the contractor teams have already departed. I stayed behind to welcome you personally.”

  “So, who else remains?” Priya asked.

  “Just the three of you. But don’t worry, everything is perfectly arranged. Fresh food will be delivered daily. I’ll show you the storage rooms with dry goods and the refrigerated chambers. As for the estate, it’s secured like a Swiss bank vault. Windows and doors are bulletproof, with electronic steel shutters. Motion sensors and cameras cover every angle. The house has its own air and water purification system , and backup generators switch on automatically if the power fails. Trust me, this is the first place I’d choose for myself in the event of nuclear war. I daresay it’s my masterpiece, even after more than three decades working in security projects,” Andrei said proudly.

  The newcomers didn’t share his enthusiasm. Alone in a bunker? What if something went wrong? Yet, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Finn thought, sipping the hot tea that carried the unmistakable scent of pine needles.

  Noticing the unease, Andrei smiled and added:

  “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it here. Come now, let me show you the rooms, and afterward you’ll have dinner.” He glanced at his watch. “I don’t have much time, my transport will arrive shortly.”

  The door to Finn’s room was adorned with a wreath of carved blossoms that gave the chamber its name. Andrei pressed a magnetic card to the new lock, and with a soft , the door swung open.

  “Lights,” he said, and the lamps along the walls came on.

  Finn blinked, overwhelmed by the sight. It was the most comfortable room he had ever seen. Everything bathed in shades of blue, with heavy draperies framing a tall window. A bed as wide as a small airstrip stood on four carved posts that rose to the ceiling, supporting a blue satin canopy scattered with tiny shimmering stars.

  At the foot of the bed stood a large dark wooden chest. By the window, a small round tea table with two blue-leather armchairs. Floor and walls were layered with handwoven rugs bearing folk motifs in white, black, and blue.

  A four-door wardrobe, its panels framed with mirrors etched in the pattern of the “Mountain Knot” flower, faced the bed from the opposite wall. Opposite the bed and chest, carved into the stone wall, was a fireplace stacked with neatly arranged logs, ready to burn.

  Above the mantel hung a painting in deep blue tones, a dark angel with outstretched wings. The room carried the scent of fresh varnish mixed with a faint floral note.

  “All further instructions will reach you in due course, as I mentioned. I wish you a pleasant stay and success in your work,” Andrei said, shaking Finn’s hand. He glanced once more at his watch, then added in farewell:

  “Goodbye.”

  He turned, the door closing behind him with a soft 'snick'. Silence filled the space. The only movement came from the draperies, gently rippling in the faint breeze from a ventilation grille.

  Finn sat on the bed’s edge, letting his gaze sweep across the room once more. Then, clapping his knees with a laugh of delight, he looked at the suitcases waiting in the middle of the floor.

  “Well then,” he said aloud, “time to unpack.”