Anzil (Gladiators of Krix #2) - Miranda Martin Page 0,36

of me.

“I’m getting information,” Kiara says, not turning to look at him.

“Information costs,” he says.

Kiara lets the merchant go and turns to the newcomer. “What price?”

The newcomer smiles, a broad smile that shows too many teeth. Something about him looks familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.

“That depends on who and what is asking,” he says. “I am Lyzarn, and you are?”

“Kiara,” she answers. “This is Anzil.”

“Him I know,” Lyzarn says. “Primus of House Batius, victor over the Shadow, and a top contender for the Grande Games, possibly even the Majoris Gladorius.”

“What price?” Kiara asks again.

“Kiara,” he says, rolling her name off his tongue as if he’s tasting each syllable. “You are… what did they call themselves?” He looks at the two guards. “Oh yes, a human. Hew-man, what an interesting word for a race such as yourself.”

Kiara hisses when he knows her race and steps ahead, but I put an arm in the way and stop her. We are beyond outnumbered. I have no doubt that every person in this entire room will be on us the instant Lyzarn signals.

“You’ve seen her kind before?” I ask.

“Oh yes,” he says. “We had one of them here. A fiery thing, red hair, lots of sass. Nothing happens in the Under Market that I’m not aware of, after all.”

“Where is she?” Kiara snaps.

“That will cost you,” he says.

“What? What do you want?” she asks.

“Name your price. I am sure House Batius will consider it for return of its property. They did, after all, purchase all the humans,” I say.

He sighs sadly and shakes his head. “Not that kind of price.”

“Then what?” Kiara asks.

“A favor,” he says.

“What kind of favor can two slaves offer you?” she asks.

“None,” he says. “Now, at least. But at the time of my choosing, you will both owe me a favor.”

“Done,” Kiara agrees before I can intervene.

“Good!” he claps his hands together, and as if on cue, the noise of the market resumes. “Come, visit with me. Let us talk somewhere more private.”

He leads us through the market to a small door. I have to duck to get through it. We’re in an office space that doesn’t even smell.

“Where is she?” Kiara asks, singleminded in her pursuit.

“She was bought by House Intralik,” he says.

“Who is that?” Kiara asks.

“A minor house,” I say. “They’re barely ranked in the games.”

“True,” Lyzarn says. “It does make you wonder, where did they get the money to purchase her? How could that be?”

Acid roils in my stomach, and it feels like a band is crushing my lungs. Anger burns hot with every beating of my heart as his eyes roam up and down Kiara with obvious interest. If he so much as touches her I will snap his neck.

“What’s your point?” Kiara asks.

“Point? I guess that remains to be seen,” he says. “I will say, though, it is interesting. You hew-mans have certainly stirred things up.”

“How do we get her back from them?” Kiara asks me.

“I have an idea,” I say. “We need to talk to Dominus.”

“Yes, talk to the mighty Dominus of House Batius. I’m sure he’ll be full of good and helpful ideas,” he snorts his laughter. “And they say I’m treacherous.”

“What do you know?” I ask.

“I know more than you ever will, Primus,” he says. “Your Dominus plays dangerous games. He grabs for status and power far above his station. It has not gone without note. Your House is in grave danger, and these humans are but pawns in a much bigger game.”

Lyzarn turns and walks back to his throne, throwing himself across it haphazardly with limbs askew.

“We need to leave,” I say.

“Oh, don’t go away mad,” Lyzarn says. Laughter rolls across the room in a wave. “I promised information, I never promised you would like it.”

Kiara narrows her eyes. She puts her hands on her hips and purses her lips.

“You know more,” she says.

“Of course I do,” Lyzarn says, kicking one leg at the empty air. “I am, after all, King of the Under Market. This is my domain, little human. Here even the Dominus’ of the Houses Majore bow to my whim.”

“Why are you helping us, then?” Kiara asks.

Lyzarn stops kicking, pulls himself upright, and sits properly. He leans over with a smile forming on his face that doesn’t come anywhere near his eyes. He’s a predator who is certain he has the upper hand.

“Because, for this moment in time, it pleases me to do so,” he says.

The hair on the back of my neck stands