Ender's Judge

Silas's icy voice, with a dangerous lilt, crept into the room. "And where did you obtain such information?"

Rune understood the informant's suspicion. No secret escaped Silas's notice; there wouldn't have been enough time to disclose anything, even if he or Bane had leaked the news.

This knowledge could only mean two things: either Powel was responsible for swapping the Rye crystals, or someone behind Powel was using the merchant as a puppet.

It wasn't Powel who responded this time. Hector, who had been sitting at the table, spoke up, his eyes trained on his fingers circling the rim of the empty teacup.

"At this point, I don't think it matters where we heard the information. You are currently in a risky position and not in a position to look for the traitor in your circle."

"You are?"

Powel grunted in agreement. "As Brionia's diplomat was saying, I don't think you are in a position to be raising concerns about where I acquired the information. Every merchant has their trade secrets to keep."

Brionia's diplomat? Hector's a merchant, isn't he?

Silus's attention diverted to the blond head, suspicion written on his face. "What business would a diplomat from Brionia have with a merchant from Alathan?"

Hector shrugged. "A deal. A transaction of sorts."

Tor straightened in his chair. "What you're asking is not simple. It is not something I can agree to instantly. From what I can see, you gain more than I do in this deal. If people discover I get the crystals from you, what stops them from purchasing them directly from you? Where is the guarantee that you will not sell crystals behind my back, thus ruling out our business?"

"I guess that is something for you to figure out." Powel brought the cup to his lips, taking a sip.

Hector looked up at Tor. "We come in goodwill. Whether or not you accept and trust us is up to you."

The Reapers' leader seemed to be reining in the fury and hate within him as Rune watched him hold the teacup in his hands, a crack slightly visible in the corner.

Tor spoke, his voice a pitch deeper than before. "It is amusing. You come to my jurisdiction and speak of a so-called 'deal' and 'trust' when it is a threat laced with coated words. Now, why would I intentionally let my enemy get a hand on me?" 

"Reaper's leader, I am not your enemy. I am only trying to offer a solution to a problem you face while slightly profiting. After all, I must receive something in return for the things I provide. I am neither enemy nor friend; I am only a merchant. I am neither good nor bad in the play of power. I only seek riches."

"The swindler speaks," Silus grumbled under his breath.

Hector stood, which was odd since it seemed like Powel was the leader in all this. "We understand time is necessary for a decision to take shape. But we leave within a month. After such times passes, the deal no longer holds."

The round man shook his head. "While the diplomat here is saying such things, might I remind you I don't have much time? Two weeks. That's how long I will wait to hear your answer."

The round man stood, and one of his people placed the black cat back into his hands. With its hackles down, the cat appeared as serene as it had upon entering the room.

As the guests left one by one, Hector was the last to leave.

At the door, the blond-haired man turned back to Tor.

"The race, I do believe it will continue as planned for tomorrow."

"Of course, it is not something we take lightly here in Alta. We've long prepared for it."

Lies. The voice whispered in Rune's ear.

Hector's eyes looked past Tor as if looking at something within the Reaper.

"That is good. My boys will be good competition for yours."

Hector's eyes then glanced at Rune for the first time, and recognition crossed his face. The merchant frowned, turning as he closed the door, and the room fell silent.

"We will discuss more later. For now, you are all dismissed." Tor gestured for those sitting at the table to leave.

Rune noticed they hadn't spoken once during the whole exchange and looked at Tor, who was already looking at him. 

"Curious why they didn't speak up, Rune? Their voicing disagreement on the deal would give the other side leverage to derail things for us. One single misstep is all it takes for someone to get a hold of you. It is precisely why I had Silus keep the fake Rye news under wraps."

Rune nodded in understanding. "If I may ask, Sir, why did you choose me as one of tomorrow's racers? I lack the height, strength, and skill."

Wariness crept into the man's eyes as he studied the map on the wall. "A gut feeling."

Silas chuckled slightly. "What Tor is trying to say is he didn't choose you or the other boys expecting you to win tomorrow."

"He didn't?"

"No. Many others are better suited for the spot than you three. Tor wants us to lose intentionally."

"Naturally, a couple of boys from Brionia stand no chance against even the slightest of those skilled in race tactics, regardless of their training or tricks. We haven't yet determined the reason for the diplomat's visit. We're counting on Hector winning tomorrow. He'll be able to ask for what he wants as an award for his boys. We may get a hint as to what he seeks along with his business in Alta."

It made sense. Silus was a calculating person, but Tor's every movement was without reason.

Tor's gaze did not leave the map as he addressed him. "Rune, what did you take from the meeting? Could anyone be the murderer we seek?" 

"They didn't speak any lies, but I find it odd that following Hector's deal falling through, Powel seemed unhappy with the diplomat's set date."

Tor nodded. "Something was not right between the two, despite their arriving together as a group."

Silas walked to the map. "Powell's quick change of the date to two weeks is a sign. The two are not in cahoots with each other. They do not like each other but are willing to work together. The question is, what is causing their cooperation?"

Tor's dark eyes found Rune's. "Think of what you've heard today. Listen to Hector's boys tomorrow at the race. See what they're like."

"Yes, Sir."

Tor waved his hands. "Both of you take your leave. I have papers to sort through before tomorrow." Silas put his right hand to his head in goodbye, Rune following suit.

Walking through the hallways to which they arrived, Rune saw the Reapers' men had filled the headquarters once more, signalling the guests' departure.

Silas took a step to the right. "Be safe out there, kid. You are not trying to win anything, so don't go attempting anything risky at the race."

Rune nodded.

Silas smiled, ruffling Rune's curly hair before he took off. 

It was an odd gesture for the informant to make. Rune, puzzled by the action, slowly patted down his disheveled curls.

I might as well enjoy my limbs to the fullest while I still have them. Before I lose them tomorrow, shouldn't I?