Anzil (Gladiators of Krix #2) - Miranda Martin Page 0,31

Anzil shares some of his plate too.

“That was wonderful, thank you,” I say.

The door to our room unlocks and opens. Jyark walks in, bleary-eyed and looking hung over. He growls when he sees the two of us sitting at the table waiting. He shambles over and grabs the pot, tilting his head back and drinking straight out of it. Gross.

“Hmm, Seven Widows, I needed that,” he says, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “Right, let’s go.”

A few minutes later we emerge onto the streets, following the guards. The streets are louder, if that’s even possible. Getting through the throngs of crowds isn’t easy, but Anzil is huge and most creatures and people get out of his way.

Jyark leads us out of the main markets and on to some side streets. Out of nowhere it hits me how strange it is that this seems normal. I’m walking on a planet, which that fact alone should be enough to blow my mind, but there are a myriad of alien beings all over the place and I don’t even blink an eye. Prior to arriving here I’d seen only two species, humans and the cursed Zzlo. Now I’ve seen so many different shapes, colors, and designs of “people” that I don’t give it a second thought. Wild.

The side streets are dimly lit. The buildings lean towards each other, blocking most of the sunlight. We walk in shadows, shoving unsavory characters out of our way. Dirt, trash, and the wretched dot the alleys.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“You’ll know when I tell you,” Jyark snarks.

Anzil grumbles under his breath, but we’re outnumbered, and besides, it would be stupid to make trouble now. I hear a door scrape open ahead of us, then several creatures move into the street and block our path.

“Ho!” a large, furry blur thing says. It has a massive mouth that looks big enough to take Jyark’s entire head in and bite it off. “You owe us.”

“We owe you for what?” Jyark snaps.

The ruffians outnumber us two to one. His group laughs, and a couple of them pat furry blue on the back, encouraging him to handle the intruders.

“We can start with not killing you,” Furry Blue says. “We’ll discuss the rest after that debt’s paid.”

“We need to find the market, you know the way?” Jyark asks.

“That will cost you more,” Furry Blue says.

“You think so?” Jyark says, stepping forward. Furry Blue is taller than him, but only by half a head. Jyark glares and points at his chest plate. “You see that symbol?”

“What of it?” Furry Blue asks.

“House Batius,” Jyark says. “And you see that big red monstrosity behind me?”

He points at Anzil, who growls low in his throat and steps ahead of me, holding his arms wide, making his muscles flex. He glistens in the dim light as if he’s oiled his skin.

“That can’t be…” Furry Blue says.

“That’s right,” Jyark says. “Look at the brand on his arm. You know anyone bold enough to wear the brand of Batius?”

The group with Furry Blue take one step back. “We didn’t mean nothing,” Furry Blue says.

“Right,” Jyark says. “Look. I have a Widows’ cursed splitting headache. I’m on a mission for my Dominus. Now, you tell me what you know and I’ll keep Anzil here on his leash. You don’t…”

He trails off, making a tsking sound.

“Right,” Furry Blue says, holding his hands up. “Look, no trouble here. You want the market? You sure? Folks like you, they’re not real welcome there.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Jyark asks.

“Right,” Furry Blue says. “Tjai, take them to the market.”

A rat looking creature with patchy hair and skin sores steps out of the group. It’s only three feet tall but has a rabid, mean look and sharp, nasty, yellowed teeth. It nods, and the rest of the group goes back into the building they came out of.

We follow Tjai through the twisting side streets, and it isn’t long at all before I’m lost. Everything looks the same.

“You sure you know the way?” Jyark asks.

“Yes, know it well I do,” Tjai says. “What is it you look for?”

“A Widows’ cursed girl,” Jyark snaps.

“A girl? Why not say so? I get you many girls. All kinds. What kind girl you want?” Tjai asks.

“One like her,” Jyark says pointing at me.

Tjai turns and comes up too close to me. He stares with watery, rheumy eyes, sniffing.

“That’s too close,” Anzil says, pushing him back.

“Hey! You no nice. Not good. No, not good,” Tjai says. “But I see woman