Anzil (Gladiators of Krix #2) - Miranda Martin Page 0,49

oaf. He pushed me. He knew stamina was a key part of success in the arena, and he forced me into it. All those late nights of training past the point of exhaustion are paying off.

I’m tired now, but it’s nothing compared to what I’ve done. I’m not even halfway there. I slow down, letting Nevaeh catch her breath. When I close again, I move to lock swords. We’re inches apart.

“We need more blood,” I say. “For the show. You ready?”

“Yes, Commander,” she says.

“Good.” I break away and dodge to her side.

As I slide past her, I cut her thigh then I reverse the swing and cut her arm too. She cries out in pain. Blood pours gushes from the cuts, flying through the air. The crowd responds with enthusiasm.

We move apart. Nevaeh is limping, but when our eyes meet she winks. She’s playing it up. Smart. She roars and charges, swinging wildly.

It’s a stupid move, and one I damn well know she knows not to make. She’s not stupid. She’s setting up the finale. I hold back, letting her close with me. When she’s barely outside the length of my sword, I tumble towards her.

I shoulder roll over the pliable sand and bring the flat of my blade up and across her stomach. It knocks the wind out of her. I rise up as she doubles over and lift her into the air. She helps by leaping with it. She tumbles up and over, landing on her back.

I jump to my feet, kick her sword away from her hand, then put my foot on her chest. I hold my blade to her throat. She taps the sand, giving me the match. The crowd gasps then oohs and aaahs. I turn my head to look at the Governor’s box.

He has final say, though these are not supposed to be blood games. What if he gives the thumbs down? What then, smart guy?

Then the revolution starts now, because no way in the name of all that exists I’m going to kill Nevaeh. My heart thumps hard, and tingling sensations race across my skin. The Governor rises from his seat as if he’s some thousand year old invalid. If he moves any slower, it’s not going to matter because we’ll all be dead of old age.

He totters to the edge of the box and looks out over the crowd, judging their pleasure with the show they were given. They make a lot of noise but nothing unified. He holds his hand out, thumb extended and horizontal. He scans the crowd again and someone yells for blood.

My heart leaps into my throat. No. No, you motherfuckers, no. The Governors thumb trembles, tilting down.

I look at Nevaeh, lying under my foot. Her eyes are wide, and she’s pale. She shakes her head negative.

“No,” I say.

He can’t. These games aren’t for blood. I glare at him, willing him to turn that damnable thumb up. Dominus rises from his seat and whispers in the Governor’s ear. Dominus’ face is twisted in anger, and I can see from here that he’s all but yelling.

The Governor shakes his head negative. More of the crowd calls for blood. My heart feels like the recoil of my rifle on full auto, a thousand energy bolts a minute blasting out of it. This is it. Damn it, I did my best for these girls. I don’t know if we can pull this off.

Patience be damned, Anzil. I tried.

Suddenly, the mood of the mob shifts. They begin to cheer. The sound of it swells, moving around the arena in stereophonic sound until it’s a deafening roar. Dominus points out around the crowd, gesturing wildly.

The governor turns his thumb up.

I sigh in relief, taking my sword away from Nevaeh’s neck. I hold out a hand and help her to her feet.

“You weren’t going to?” she asks.

“No,” I say. “But if they said to, the revolution would be on.”

“Phew,” she says. “Worried me a second there.”

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Well enough,” she says. “I lost track of Scarlet.”

“I’ve got her,” I say.

She nods. We’re being watched and can’t stand here long. We shake hands and part, heading for our gates.

“I’m coming for you,” I say before she gets out of ear shot. “We’re going to be free.”

“Never doubted it, Commander,” Nevaeh says, limping off the field.

I make it through the gates before my knees give out and my stomach rebels.

Chapter 18

Anzil

“Yes!” I slap Xyron on his chest excitedly. “She did it!”

“She did,” Xyron says.

We’re