‘What? Like last time?’ Stefano nudged his horse and headed towards the Limen. ‘Well, I’m not waiting for you.’
Santo followed. ‘Me neither.’
Katina shrugged at their backs as they trotted out of the clearing. She waited till they were out of earshot. ‘I deserved that.’ She swung to face Debora and Alessandro. ‘You don’t need to wait for me either. I’ll see Baroque on his way and join you shortly.’
‘We’ll stay with you,’ said Alessandro, taking Debora’s hand.
‘No,’ said Katina. ‘I need you and Debora to cross with those two. I don’t trust them. They’ll be in the Elders’ ears before I have a chance to explain. I need you to prevent that, at best – moderate their tales at worst.’
‘But –’ began Debora.
‘No. No buts. Go. I need you on the other side more than I need you here.’ She glanced skywards. ‘The rain is a blessing and will cover our tracks. I’ll be careful. I’ve done it before.’
Debora stared at Katina, who refused to meet her eyes. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing.’ The brief silence was laden with meaning.
‘So do I,’ whispered Katina.
Katina watched as her partners mounted their horses and then stepped between them, grabbing Alessandro’s hand where it rested on the pommel, reaching over to link with Debora’s.
Alessandro sighed. ‘You’re up to something and I don’t like it one bit. But I also recognise that tone. I’ll do what you ask, but I’ll be waiting.’
Katina looked at his dark hair pulled back in its long ponytail, the brown eyes and broad shoulders. She noted the determined jut of his chin. She stood on tiptoe as he bent towards her and pressed her lips against his. ‘You’re not the only one who recognises tones,’ she said softly against his mouth. ‘Wait. If you must.’
‘We must,’ said Debora, placing her other hand over Katina’s. Then she kicked her horse into action. Alessandro was right behind her.
‘See you on the other side,’ called Debora, using the traditional Bond Riders’ farewell.
They urged their horses into a canter, catching up with Santo and Stefano quickly. Kicking up leaves and dust, they charged alongside the Limen, gathering speed. The unearthly glow of the shifting barrier made them appear wraith-like. Katina heard, carried on the wind, the words Stefano chanted to open a rift. From where she stood she saw the air change, dragged towards the hole in the fabric of time, sucked into its hungry maw. One by one the horses and Riders leapt into the opening and, with a great dragging sound, the fracture sealed.
‘The other side,’ whispered Katina. Then she turned to Baroque. He stood gaping at what he’d just witnessed.
‘Amazing,’ he said.
She smiled at his reaction. Even after all this time, she felt the same way. Brushing her hair out of her eyes, she considered his appearance. In the growing dark, he was a shambles. ‘You’ll need to invent a story about bandits or some such.’
‘Then I’ll just tell the truth and say it was Bond Riders. You’re all a bunch of bandits anyway.’
Katina grunted. ‘You may joke, but I have put myself at great risk for you, Baroque Scarpoli. The others, even my own partners, would rather you were dead.’
‘I know. Believe me, I’m grateful.’
‘Hmm. We’ll see if that means anything.’
‘Why did you, then? You know, save me.’
Katina thought for a moment. ‘I don’t know, really.’ She gave a half-laugh. ‘Call it instinct – or stupidity. Something told me that you have an important role to play in all this.’ She dismissed her words with a wave of her hand. ‘For now, I want you to let me know if you hear any news of Tallow – anything at all.’
Baroque took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. It snaked out of his mouth in a long rill of white. ‘Sì, Signorina Bond Rider. And how do I find you? You said yourself, it will be a while before you can return to Serenissima. The loss of the chandler will echo throughout the city. Bond Riders will be a byword.’
‘Not for long, Baroque Scarpoli. We too are part of Serenissima. The division,’ she said, gesturing to the Limen, ‘is only superficial.’
Baroque started to chuckle. It was dry, broken. ‘You really believe that? Oh, Signorina, the division is deep, and I think you Bond Riders look for an excuse to make it permanent.’
Katina frowned. Baroque was right. The mark of difference between Bond Riders