He squinted. Dull light hit him in the face and he screwed his eyes shut again. God, it hurt. Everywhere hurt. But now that he’d started, he might as well continue. He wanted to see where he was and who owned the urgent voice that had been calling him over and over. He tried again. Warily, he peered through his eyelashes. Grey shadows flitted before his vision. A face swam into view.
‘Thank the gods! Ciao. Welcome back.’
Squatting beside him was a woman with long, tawny hair streaked with grey, large amber eyes scattered with silver flecks and a wide, generous mouth. It broke into a smile, her face folding into lines. He found himself smiling back.
‘Where am I?’ His voice was scratchy, unused. He cleared his throat. He spurred his limbs into cooperating with his desire. Flat on his back, his hands scrambled in what was a mixture of dirt and stones. Directly overhead was a tree. It cast neither shade nor foliage.
‘Ah, now that’s a long story.’ The woman slowly rose to her feet, towering over him, hands on her hips. It made him feel diminished. He half-lifted himself off the ground, leaning on his elbows to support his weight. His head spun, forcing him to stop. Vague shapes flitted at the edge of his vision. He tried to make sense of what he was seeing. Where was he?
‘Suffice to say,’ she continued, ‘you were closer to death than anyone who lives has a right to be.’
Dante tried to absorb the information, tried to organise his thoughts. They were scattered like leaves in a storm.
‘Who are you?’
‘My name is Katina Maggiore.’
Dante regarded her carefully. She wore tight-fitting pants made of animal hide and a full-sleeved shirt, gloves, a waistcoat and a coat. Blood soaked the front of her shirt and he wondered if she was badly wounded. She didn’t appear to be. A dagger hung from one hip and a riding crop from the other. Thigh-high boots completed her ensemble. If it hadn’t been for the blood and the grass stains and dust on her pantaloons, he would have thought her dressed for Carnivale, so masculine was her attire. Behind her, a loosely tethered horse snuffled through a small patch of uninviting grass. Katina and her mount were the only splashes of colour against a slate background.
Dante blinked, trying to clear his head. It felt thick, his thoughts jumbled. He glanced down at his torso. His shirt was ripped and there were bloodstains splashed all over the front. He looked back at Katina’s shirt. Whose blood was it? He didn’t feel injured. He rolled his tongue in his mouth and found a coppery aftertaste. He glanced at Katina and back to the horse and his pulse quickened. Memories poured into his head. Fear gripped his chest. His throat tightened. He couldn’t breathe. He raised a trembling finger as he tried to get to his feet, but his body wouldn’t cooperate; his legs collapsed under him.
‘You … you …’ He formed the words in his head, but they would not, could not leave his mouth. Anger darker than night enveloped him; his vision dulled until all he saw were enormous steel-shod hooves bearing down on him and heard Tallow’s cry of warning …
Tallow …
‘You’re, you’re … a Bond Rider.’ He pointed at her, his hand shaking. From inside his curled fingers, blood dripped to the ground. He stared at it, his eyes widening as he slowly opened his hand and saw the bleeding gash that divided his palm. He swung round, taking in the sky, the ground – the wisps of cinereous fog that hung from the trees like garlands, that hovered above the earth like mist over the canals in Serenissima; the scraggly limbs of the trees bowed with the grief of living in this damned place; the smell of rotting undergrowth that permeated everything.
He was in the Limen. Slowly he looked back at his hand and in one painful blow realisation hit him.
He was Bonded.
Foreboding exploded into panic.
‘No!’ he shouted. This time he managed to get his feet. He grabbed the trunk of the tree to steady himself. ‘Why did you do this?’ He thrust his bloodied palm in Katina’s face. ‘Why did you Bond me?’
‘It was what I had to do in order to ensure you survived.’
He stared at her in disbelief. It all started to come back. The bridge, the crowds, the huge horse, Cane and … Tallow.