off. It took two pulls before it came free. I stared at it in both disbelief and relief, spinning around to flee, when a hand flew out and gripped my wrist. I repressed the scream that rose in my throat and looked down in dismay.
Staring at me, with eyes that had once been grey, was Doge Dandolo. They widened as he took in my face. My mask dangled around my neck and the belladonna had long worn off.
‘Estrattore!’ he rasped. ‘Estrattore! Help!’ he began to cry.
‘No,’ I said, pressing my fingers against his wizened, dry mouth, the corno crunching under his chin. ‘Please, you don’t understand.’
‘Help!’ he tried to call. But his voice was so faint, I doubted he’d be heard. I didn’t wait to find out.
I wriggled out of his grasp and, dropping the corno, ran to the closet. I shut the door and quickly activated the lever. To my relief, the wood swung aside and cold air from a long dark passage blasted me. I stepped in, fumbling for the candle in the sconce that Baroque had warned me to expect. Using the tinderbox that sat in a groove by the opening, I lit it quickly with shaking hands and shut the door, using the mechanism on the inside. As it slid closed, I noted that the noises I’d heard had not grown louder, that the Doge’s rooms had not been disturbed. Why had there been shouting? Perhaps it was just Carnivale gaiety, or had Giaconda organised a greater distraction than her own charms?
I ran as carefully as I could down the passage, holding onto the walls when I reached the steps, keeping the candle above my head so the light cast a wide halo. It was freezing and, as I fled past alcoves and doorways, I occasionally heard the mutter of voices, groans and little squeals. Rats scurried past my feet; a couple ran over them. On I moved, as swiftly as I could. Down staircase after staircase, passageway after passageway, always moving west as Baroque had told me, praying I wouldn’t encounter anyone else.
After ten minutes, I came to a section I knew – I had used it many times when leaving Prince Cosimo. I slowed down. I was nearly there. I had to catch my breath. I descended the last two flights of stairs and rounded a corner. There was the outer door at the end of the passage. Relief flooded me. I was sweating. I pulled my mask off completely and tucked it into my purse. It no longer mattered who saw me. It was over.
Pulling back the latch, I slowly opened the external door and peered into the dark. It was still raining. I was about to step outside when a force on the other side slammed into me and sent me reeling back. I slipped over, throwing an arm out to keep my balance and striking the wall hard. I gasped in pain. Somehow, with my other hand, I managed to keep the candle aloft. I held it before me.
‘At last we meet then, Estrattore.’ Out of the night and into my circle of light stepped a man. Cold steel pressed against my throat.
‘Get up slowly. Keep your hands by your side. One word, one movement and I will kill you,’ he hissed. He reeked of vino and his words were slightly slurred. I tried to think fast.
He snatched the candle out of my hand and held it above his head, studying me, careful to avoid my eyes. As he took in my appearance, I staggered to my feet and examined him. There was something about the blue eyes, the chin, the way the cheekbones flared towards the temples, how his hair came to a widow’s peak above his eyebrows that registered with me. I swallowed heavily. The man began to laugh. A freezing draught blew around my legs, lifting my dress, forcing his cape to flap against me.
‘You know, for so long my thoughts were preoccupied with Katina.’ I stiffened. ‘I wanted to hurt her, damage her, erase her from his memory, rid his casa of her shame. But then I realised, all I had to do to set him free, to make him happy and get Katina at the same time was destroy you.’ He leant towards me. I thought he was going to fall. The tip of the sword pressed into my flesh. I felt a burn then a rush of warmth as I was cut. I winced and