Kamahl crossed his arms. "Go ahead then."
"How much are you paying for your lodgings?"
"Fifteen silver a night, but I'm only here for two nights, for the games."
"You're being robbed. There are warrior's quarters right outside the arena that only charge five. I can take you there."
Kamahl considered. "All right," he said finally. "You saved me twenty silver. Now what-"
"Eighteen," Chainer corrected. "Finder's fee is two percent."
"I knew it," Kamahl growled. "There's always an angle with you Cabalists." He turned to go.
"Do you know how to bet on yourself?" Chainer said quickly. Kamahl stopped. "Do you know who to ask politely, and who to threaten? Do you understand that the Master of the Games has put you on the slow track because of your stunt with the coin back there?"
Kamahl grunted angrily. "I don't understand half of what you just said."
Chainer smiled. "Then I've made my point."
"All that stuff," Kamahl shook his head, "betting, bragging, working the pairings. It's dreck. A warrior's skill determines victory."
"In the pits," Chainer said. "But you're in the City now. The pits are the least of your worries."
Kamahl glared at Chainer, then back at the Master of the Games' station. Slowly, he said. "All right, Chainer. What is a 'slow track?' "
"Always remind yourself that this is a business. The Master of the Games is responsible for getting the most out of the contestants. Did you bribe him at all?"
"I paid a lump of gold to get in the gates."
"That goes to the gatekeepers. Did you pay the Master of the Games anything?"
Kamahl chuckled. "Just that coin."
"Then he's got to make his money off you some other way. Most likely he'll put you in as many preliminary bouts as he can, against opponents that are no real challenge. He's got to display you, keep you working in front of the crowds, just to break even on your entrance fee. He's going to work you like an animal."
"And how," Kamahl's voice was low and menacing, "do I get on the fast track?"
"You need to pay proper respect to the master. Twenty-five silver should do it. How much tender have you got?"
"Ten gold," Kamahl said immediately.
"Sshhh!" Chainer hissed. He looked around nervously. "That was a joke. Never answer that question around here."
"What? No one is going to take my money from me without a fight. No one would dare."
"Sure they would. I know pickpockets who could steal the blade off your sword while it was still in the scabbard. If I can't teach you anything else, I can at least teach you one thing. Never announce how much you're carrying in this city." Chainer worked his fingers as he calculated. "Ten gold is about fifty silver. Twenty-five to the Master, ten for your lodgings… You won't have much left for food and frolic."
"Food, I need. Frolic, not so much."
"Okay. The first thing we do after bribing the Master," Chainer said, "is bet. We'll get the best odds on your first fight, because you're an unknown. If we get you on the fast track, the odds get even better. Have you spoken to a fixer?"
"No."
"We'll do that next. Fixers set odds, take bets, and schedule matches. They make all the arrangements for civilians like you who want to do business with the Cabal."
"I'm not a civilian, I'm a warrior."
"In this town, you're either Cabal, Order, or a civilian. Come on. I did a little checking, and there's a match that you can help me handicap. And I can help you make some money."
Kamahl finally looked interested. "What kind of match?"
"Vampire against lavamancer. You know about lavamancers?" "Yes."
"And I know about vampires. Between the two of us, we've got all the angles covered."
The stadium was divided into numerous circles, with the largest and innermost set aside for main events. It was surrounded by rows and rows of seats, and a dozen circular platforms floated silently above the arena floor, giving the important and the wealthy the best possible view. Chainer led Kamahl to the center pit and pointed out a fixer who was busily taking bets.
"He'll do. What I don't understand," Chainer said to Kamahl, "is how anyone who bets on the lavamancer thinks they're going to get their money back. The odds are good, but this is a vampire. And not just any vampire, it's a Sengir vampire." Chainer pointed to the huge, bald, manlike creature standing in the center of the pit. Its eyes were black and lifeless, and its teeth jutted out from between its lips. All of the teeth, not just the canines, were twisted and pointed like thorns, and the Sengir's filthy nails hung past its fingertips like talons. It sniffed the air like a wild dog, head darting as it oriented on each new scent, and it hissed at the crowd. Across the pit stood a dark- skinned human in tanned animal hides. His hair was loose and wild, and he carried a short sword.
Kamahl regarded the toothy brute and then continued to scan the entire arena, drinking it all in. "What's a Sengir?"
"Ancient vampire lord," Chainer said. "Possibly a myth. Some vampires prey on villages, some on cities. They say Sengir preyed on entire continents."
"And you've got an ancient vampire in the pit for the opening bout?"
"Not Sengir himself. One of his minions."
"Bet on the lavamancer," Kamahl said. "Bet it all."
"You that sure?"
"I am. Vampires burn, don't they?"
"Some do. If you can hold them still long enough to set them on fire." Chainer pointed at the vampire's opponent. "So, lavamancers. Work with lava, do they? Flames and smoke and all that?"
"Yeah. But lavamancer is a title, like champion or wizard. I say bet on him."
"It's your money." Chainer held out his hand, and Kamahl stared at it. "You're learning," Chainer laughed. He led Kamahl over to the fixer, showed him how to place a bet, and then the two settled on the rail to watch the bout.
A horn sounded, and Chainer said, "That's the prep horn. It means the match is about to start, and the fighters have fifteen seconds to prepare."
The lavamancer knelt and touched the arena floor, mouthing a silent incantation. The Sengir vampire continued to look around the arena and hiss at the audience. When the starting horn sounded, the vampire suddenly became much more focused on his opponent. Its eyes narrowed as it crouched and began stalking the lavamancer. Its pointed tongue lapped hungrily around his lips. The lavamancer stood his ground, still mouthing words that no one could hear.
The vampire suddenly charged, and the lavamancer pointed his sword and released a red-hot ball of magma and ash from its tip. The vampire caught the missile full in the chest, and for a moment its entire body was engulfed in flames and smoke.
The crowd's cheer became a collective gasp as the flaming vampire leaped into the air, soaring high over the arena floor. It swooped and dove, moving fast enough to extinguish the flames that were consuming its ragged robes.
Chainer leaned over to Kamahl and said, "Did you know they could fly?"
"No," Kamahl was impassive. "I assume they still drink blood?"
Before Chainer could answer, the blackened vampire screeched and dropped down on the lavamancer. The Sengir was so much bigger and broader than its wild-haired opponent that he seemed to swallow the lavamancer up whole. They grappled and rolled across the arena floor until the vampire pinned the lavamancer's arms and sank its sharp, twisted teeth into the man's neck.
"One less lavamancer, one more Sengir," Chainer said. "Sorry, Kamahl, but this match is all but over."
"Agreed." Kamahl said. But in the pit, it was the Sengir who shuddered and thrashed, not the human in its grip. With a roar, the vampire cast its intended victim aside and fell back, clutching at its face in agony. Flames poured from between its lips, and its lower jaw seemed to be melting.