The world had shrunk to the few feet of ground beneath Kato's boots.
The Borjomi Gorge at night was no postcard view; it was a wound in the earth—cold, black, and hostile. The "path" was a lie, a narrow ribbon of loose stone and moss-slick rock clinging to the mountainside. To her right, the cliff rose into a sky without stars. To her left, the world fell away into darkness. The roar of the Kura River filled the gorge, a sound that vibrated in her bones.
The moon was a thin shard of silver, useless for light. Each breath cut her throat with cold. She felt more ghost than living thing, moving through a land built for the dead.
Levan, the smuggler, was a shadow ahead of her—silent, sure-footed, at home in this treacherous world. He wasn't a savior; he was a hired man. Her life mattered only as long as it served his profit.
"Keep up, lady," he rasped over his shoulder. The river nearly swallowed his voice. "The gendarmes patrol twice a night. They're jumpy. They don't take prisoners. They shoot smugglers and toss the bodies in the river—saves on paperwork."
The cruelty was deliberate, meant to remind her who held power here. It worked. Fear stabbed through her fatigue, but she pushed herself harder, scraping her palms on the rock as she climbed.
They had been walking for hours when Levan suddenly stopped. He flattened himself against the cliff and raised one hand. Silence.
Kato copied him at once, pressing herself into the cold stone. Her heartbeat was deafening in her ears.
Down on the opposite bank, small pinpricks of light moved through the darkness—lanterns. Two, then three. A patrol. Their distorted voices drifted up the gorge, eerie and distant.
She didn't breathe. Didn't blink. The rock burned cold against her cheek, her lungs screaming for air. Minutes stretched until they felt endless. She focused on the rough texture beneath her fingertips, the steady rhythm of the river, anything to keep the fear from breaking loose.
At last, the lights vanished around a bend.
Levan waited a minute longer before exhaling quietly and peeling away from the wall. He turned to her, a black shape against a darker sky, and said what she'd been expecting.
"This run's riskier than I thought. More patrols, better armed. The price has gone up."
There it was. The extortion. He wanted to see if fear had broken her will.
"That locket you sold won't cover this," he added. His tone turned slick, greedy. "Maybe you have a ring? A friend who'll pay?"
Kato was frozen to the bone, shaking from exhaustion. She had nothing left to give. She could beg, plead—die poor. Or she could fight like her husband would have.
She straightened. Her voice came out steady and cold. "The price is the one we agreed on in the tavern. Not a kopek more. Not a kopek less. And when Kamo hears I reached safety, he'll pay you ten times that. Enough for a villa by the sea."
She stepped closer, forcing him to look at her. Her next words cut like the river wind.
"But if you try to leave me here—if you think for one second you can cheat me or run—I swear by God, your next deal will be with Him. The last thing you'll hear will be Kamo's footsteps. And he won't be carrying gold."
No plea. A threat. A bluff so sharp it could draw blood.
Levan said nothing. His eyes searched her face, trying to measure the truth. He saw no fear, only a quiet certainty. A woman who could die here without flinching—and promised he'd go first.
At last he gave a rough laugh. "Hah. A true wolf's mate, then. More iron than most men I know."
He spat on the rock and turned back to the path. His pace quickened.
They climbed for another hour. Slowly, the gorge opened and the path leveled. Dawn's first gray light brushed the sky.
Levan pointed toward a faint line on the horizon. "That's the road. Five miles east—small rail stop. Farmers, merchants, no police. A train to Kutaisi leaves at noon."
He held out his hand. "My payment."
Kato gave him the rubles she had left, keeping only enough for bread and a ticket. He counted, nodded, and turned away without a word. In moments he was gone, swallowed by the rocks and the coming dawn.
Kato stood alone, listening to the river fade behind her. Her body ached, her clothes were torn, her skin raw. But she was alive. The gorge was behind her.
Ahead lay the long, empty road—and whatever waited at the end of it.