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“Let’s say if you don’t deliver on your promise to us within… hmm… a month of the end of the Games, then you owe us a million each. And… you give me that silly artifact of yours to me personally.”

“Oh, so you’re interested in it after all?” I smiled.

“Depends whether you deliver on your promises,” the old man growled, smiling.

A month should be more than enough time to gather fifteen thousand followers. The artifact… It’d cost us, but having a top jeweler with two bonus ranks on our side… What was there to think about? We couldn’t miss this chance!

“No question. You’ll get the artifact no matter what happens. It’s a gift,” I said.

Bloomer and Roman whistled, finally letting their poker faces slip. Joseph Rosenthal stared at me hard, as if trying to see something he missed before. He drummed his fingers on the armrests of his chair, then turned to his partners:

“This young man isn’t anything like the media painted him, right, guys?”

“I watched his interview with Mitchell,” Bloomer answered dryly. “I thought he was giving scripted answers, but now… I admit I was wrong.”

“As long as he isn’t trying to pull one over on us,” Roman said, frowning and sipping his drink.

“A very good point, Roman,” Joseph said and looked back at me: “Are you willing to repeat the conditions of the deal to an Arbiter?” He saw the look of confusion on my face and explained: “A human one. A real one, not from the Celestial Arbitration. It’ll be one of the three prime notaries employed here.”

Prime notaries could formalize any trade with their presence alone. They were also judges when contracts were violated. After earning their rank, every prime notary was given lifetime citizenship of at least category C, and it grew over the years they served.

“Don’t be so surprised,” Bloomer said. “Alliances are made in the Games all the time. There are millions at stake. That’s why Snowstorm provides the contestants with Arbiters. And so, Mr. Sheppard, what kind of alliance do you want with us?”

I’d been hoping that the negotiations would go well, of course, but I hadn’t expected events to start moving so quickly. All this was so serious that I had to be very careful in formulating what I wanted from my new allies. ‘Give me the essence if you win’ seemed too narrow. With conditions like that, they wouldn’t have to even try. They could just relax and not move — why bother when they’d get theirs anyway? No, I needed something more effective… Unity would make them my allies in greater Dis, since nobody would willingly refuse its power, but here…

“In that case, gentlemen, I’ll rephrase my conditions. I require full support from you all, your entire group. You must help me personally and my character in all matters that concern my goal. In particular, Scyth must obtain the Concentrated Life Essence.”

They looked at each other for a moment, then exchanged barely perceptible nods. Bloomer half-closed his eyes for a second.

“Where?” Roman asked, glancing at his partners. “Maybe…”

Bloomer raised a hand to cut him off, then spoke into his comm:

“This is Nico Knowles. I’d like to book the bowling alley… All of them! Yes, all the lanes! Yes, all sixteen! The entire hall! For a closed event! Right now! Great.” He hung up, shrugged. “Well, where else would we do it? We need a room big enough for everyone!”

Joseph brought the comm to his face and commanded hoarsely:

“Announcement to Meister’s raid. General assembly! Everyone to the bowling alley! Urgency: ruby!”

I imagined how many people these three must lead for them to book a whole bowling alley to fit them all in, and whistled under my breath.

Chapter 15. My Circle

MEISTER, ROMAN AND BLOOMER discussed my offer with their partners for a long time. I counted a little over a hundred of them. They hailed from various clans and factions and were all united by the need to stick together, but their views were far from identical.

They would have argued until midnight and never come to any conclusion if it weren’t for the urgency. The raid resolved not to leave the bowling alley until a decision was made. In any case, none of them had anything to lose, and judging by the conversations I overheard, they were more concerned that the deal seemed too good to be true, and that meant there was some catch. They were trying to figure out exactly what it was.

Everyone except Bloomer and Roman took part in the lively debate. Those two had already made their decision and offloaded the weight of responsibility onto Meister, and now they were actually bowling. The roll of thrown balls and the crash of scattering skittles distracted the others, and Roman’s triumphant shout when he got a strike made my savior, the singer Michelle, gasp.

Shooting a disapproving glance at the poet and curser, she headed toward me. Reaching me, she just stared in silence as if waiting, which gave me a chance to look at her: she was short, with olive skin, huge black eyes with thick eyelashes, short blond curls. The girl looked young, as if she’d just finished school yesterday, but I knew she was almost thirty. Now I could clearly hear the French accent in her voice:

“Well, Sheppard, tell me, what are you thinking? Have you decided to buy us and scoop up all our fans at the same time?”

“Are you serious? In an hour or so, depending on whether Octius announces my disqualification before the highlights or after, I won’t have any need for fans. I’ve been honest with your leaders, Michelle. I need the life essence. And remember, I’m not asking that you give it, but that you sell it. For a reasonable price, of course, based on a valuation from the goblin auctioneers. What I’m offering

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