Tattletale gave me a single, slow blink of confirmation. She was writing more.
“A game?” Jack asked.
I couldn’t make sense of it. ‘If there more half left at end.’
…hm. I guess that means Shatterbird would need to start her hunt without having it whittled down as much as she likes.
“One second.” I said. Sundancer ripped off another sheet. This was excruciatingly slow, trying to parse her shorthand and follow her line of thought. “Tests. If there’s more than half of the candidates left at the end of the tests, we win. You leave with volunteer? You could leave with whoever wants to join. But you leave.”
I suppose a game like this would appeal to Jack, but there’s one thing missing so far: A reward for if the Slaughterhouse wins.
Also, good thing Burnscar’s sitting out according to you guys. Otherwise there’d be an even number of nominees.
“You expect that half of the candidates could pass the tests? I’m intrigued. I don’t think it’s possible, but I’m intrigued.”
What exactly constitutes “passing” the tests? Jack said nobody succeeds at all of them. Does passing the tests just mean being alive and sane after all tests?
“Brockton Bay has its share of badasses, Jack,” I said, my voice hard with repressed outrage.
That is true. I could see Hookwolf passing a lot of the tests, for one.
“I don’t see what we get out of it.”
Tattletale had dropped the pen. It was up to me to pick up the slack.
And yeah. If you’re going to make a deal like this, almost any foe with a brain is going to decline if there isn’t anything in it for them if they win.
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