and humans was more than the strange anomaly called the Limen. It was internal, it was social; it was physical as well. She became aware of his eyes upon hers. When she spoke, her voice was sharper than she intended. ‘You may leave messages for me at the Taverna di Segretezza – do you know it?’
‘In the Tailors Quartiere?’
‘Sì. Ask for Signor Vestire. He owns it. He’s a friend of the Bond Riders. He will know how to contact me.’
Baroque nodded. ‘I’d heard rumours of the tailors and the Bond Riders.’
Katina flashed a smile. ‘Even Bond Riders need clothes, and they are good to do business with,’ she said plucking at her shirt. The smile disappeared. ‘If you have news, I will come, though you may have to be patient. Messages do not always travel as swiftly as they should between our worlds. But know this: if you break our agreement – if you do not come to me, Baroque Scarpoli, I will hunt you down. However long it takes. Like you, we have our own way of extracting information. Only we don’t do it quietly with whispers and behind closed doors. I will take away that which I have just returned to you – your life – and with no thought for where or when. Capisce?’
Katina knew Baroque was considering the seriousness of her threat. ‘Capisco. I understand,’ he said faintly. He shivered. The rain was becoming heavier and night was setting in. A cold gust of wind blew through the clearing, howling along the Limen, distrupting the billowing mist.
Katina pointed through the trees. ‘Head in that direction. You’ll find boats moored past the reeds. You can take one and return to Serenissima tonight.’
Baroque frowned. ‘I thought you were going back to the pledge stone?’
‘Not with you,’ she said. ‘We part company here. Now.’ She reached into the pocket of her coat and pulled out a purse and threw it to him.
Baroque caught it mid-air. He weighed it in his palm, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. ‘Bene. You have my promise that as soon as I have information about the boy, I will make contact.’ He bowed, stiffly. He began to hobble towards the trees, shoving the purse deep into his coat.
After a few steps, he paused and turned. ‘I always knew you Bond Riders had secrets.’ He blinked the rain out of his eyes. ‘But they always seemed to be concerned about this world, about the one you left behind. But this, this business with Tallow. This is something different, isn’t it?’ He noted the expression on Katina’s face. ‘The chandler is dead because of that fellow … What’s his name? Santo, wasn’t it? I haven’t had the pleasure before. Hope I never do again.’ He felt his face gingerly, wincing as he encountered a bruise. ‘He was a good young man, Dante. Decent. I think he and Tallow shared … affection. You Bond Riders accept that sort of thing, don’t you?’
Katina didn’t respond.
Baroque sighed. ‘I want to know what you’re up to. What’s going on. Maybe, when I find the boy for you, I will. The world stirs. Where some see tragedy, others see opportunity. What do you see, Signorina Bond Rider?’ He looked as if he was about to say more, then changed his mind. ‘Grazie mille for what you did. You saved my life. I won’t forget that.’
‘Make sure you don’t.’ They stared at each other for a few seconds more before Baroque grunted and, with a nod, moved away. ‘Oh, one more thing, Scarpoli,’ Katina called.
Baroque halted and looked over his shoulder.
‘Tallow’s a girl.’
Baroque’s good eye widened and his face broke into the semblance of a smile. ‘Bene, bene, bene. I see. Of course. That explains a great deal. Sì. Sì. A ragazza. Grazie mille again.’ His broken laughter was eventually swallowed by the trees.
He made a racket as he departed. Above the noise of the rain, Katina heard the snap of branches, the mulch of damp detritus underfoot and Baroque’s chatter as he tried to frighten away any lurking creatures. Katina couldn’t help but feel some sympathy for him. Still, only by setting him free could she find out exactly who was paying him and why. ‘I’ll find you yet, Tallow. One way or another,’ Katina promised the darkness.
Minutes passed. Except for the gentle patter of rain, it was silent.
At last she was alone. She took a deep breath and recalled every move she’d made since the day began. It all led