Votive - By Karen Brooks Page 0,32

fault either, caro mio,’ said Debora.

Dante waited patiently, but could stand it no more. ‘Please, explain what she’s done. Why she’s in so much trouble.’

‘Mi dispiace, Dante.’ Debora sighed and dropped his hand. ‘You know we’re here because of our Bonds, sì?’ Dante nodded. ‘We make a promise that is sealed with our blood and places our souls in the pledge stones. I don’t know when it started, or why. As long as I have lived, so it has been – and I have lived for a very long time.’

Dante studied her face. She looked no older than his Zia Dulmia.

‘How old are you?’

Debora gave a crooked smile. ‘In Serenissian years? Over three hundred and fifty. I am not sure exactly. In here it doesn’t matter, especially now we can no longer return.’

‘Because there are no Estrattore?’

‘Esattamente. It used to be that once our pledges were fulfilled, the Estrattore would release our souls. If we chose, we could return to Serenissima and, if time had been kind, pick up what remained of our lives or, if not, start a new one. It depended on how long we’d been Bonded. How long we’d been gone. Now there are no Estrattore, we no longer have a choice. Even so, many of us still try to fulfil our pledges.’ She glanced in the direction Katina had been taken. ‘It’s what drives us; it’s what gives this place –’ she threw her arms out wide ‘– meaning.’

Her eyes flickered to Alessandro and her cheeks coloured. Dante sensed she was omitting something. ‘Each of us is responsible for our own Bond.’ She paused. ‘But, once an Obbligare Doppio is made, no other Rider can fulfil theirs until this new one is completed. The Bond you and Katina have made now takes precedence over every other Bond, over every other Rider’s need. That’s the nature of the Obbligare Doppio – it’s against the Bond Riders’ code; it breaks every rule because it makes us subservient to something none of us pledged. It means our lives, such as they are, grind to a halt for your Bond – yours and Katina’s. No other Bond works that way; they are personal, private. We choose to act on them or not. Except this one. This affects us all. We are beholden to you. Our freedom to choose has been taken away.’ She began to cry again.

‘I still can’t believe Katina did this,’ said Alessandro, putting a comforting arm around Debora’s shoulders.

‘No,’ wept Debora. ‘You can’t believe that she kept her intention from us.’

Alessandro held Debora tightly. ‘How could she be so damn selfish, so bloody stupid? Now we have to wait for …’ He pressed his lips together.

Debora tried to pull out of his embrace, but he wouldn’t let her.

‘For what?’ Dante urged.

Over the top of Debora’s head, Alessandro raised his dark eyes to Dante’s. ‘For either of you to succeed and fulfil your Bond or die trying.’

TARLO MALEOVELLI. THE NAME, like the mellow light coming in from the series of arched windows, took me unawares. I tried it out in my mind, rolled it around in my thoughts, tasted it and didn’t find it nearly as objectionable as I thought. Tarlo. It suited my new look and life; it was a sobriquet that announced my sex to the world, as well my different purpose – whatever that might be. Tarlo. So close to Tallow and yet, I thought, my hands brushing against the silken fabric of my gown, aware of my décolletage and the earrings dangling from my lobes and the cool pearls against my neck, so immeasurably distant.

I took a few more steps into the room and stopped. Giaconda had taken my arm again and the downward pressure she applied forced me into an awkward curtsy. As I rose, I could see three figures climbing to their feet. I felt momentarily bereft as Giaconda abandoned me in the middle of the huge room.

Four enormous windows drenched the room in the pastel hues of the afternoon. The floor beneath my feet gleamed brightly. Elaborate rugs were scattered at intervals, their colours fading yet still managing to offer a loud contrast to the geometrical patterns of the wood. I managed to briefly glimpse the ceiling that soared above me. A silent cacophony of cherubs and angels sang in greeting, floating amid a maelstrom of pallid clouds. The cream walls were covered in metal sconces in which sat huge pillar candles at various stages of melting. Tapestries, as discoloured as

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