...The event concluded, the device around his head powered down, returning Edryn to himself. Gently, he removed the helmet, feeling both exhilarated and exhausted as he so often did after mind-riding.

Nira, however, seemed only angry. “Who let that thing compete?” she said, tossing her linking device to the side so she could get up and confront the viewing window. “And without so much as a mention of it in the lists?”

“Didn’t your fellow win?” Chet asked, helmet off and drink already back in his hand.

“Most in the crowds likely think so,” Edryn said, “until they look at the scoreboard, that is.” He pointed at a nearby screen in his skybox, which showed Dar’lax at position two, and ??? at position one. “That’s why the regulators mind-ride, same as us, so they don’t get fooled.”

“But we did get fooled, all of us,” said Nira, gesturing angrily at the monitor. “They don’t even know its name.”

“That does seem rather odd,” Chet said.

Edryn nodded, conceding the point. “Judging from what it could do and that it wasn’t on the lists, it was likely an unregistered godling drawn to the carnage. This sort of thing happens from time to time.” He looked to his daughter. “Remember ’03?”

“That one just changed the weather and made illusions until it got bored,” she snapped. “It didn’t compete!”

Edryn shrugged. “It’s a godling. It can do what it wants.”

“But if it wasn’t a planned entrant,” Chet said, swirling his drink, “how were we able to get into its head?”

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“That doesn’t matter,” Edryn said. “The arena was retrofitted years ago to capture every thought and experience that occurs on its surface and then broadcast that information to receivers like these.” He tapped the top of the helmet that sat beside him. “It doesn’t matter who or what you are; if you’re down there, we can mind-ride you up here.”

“Apparently even if you’re living inside a piece of cutlery,” Chet commented drily.

Edryn chuckled. “Exactly.”

“Why are you both taking this so calmly?” Nira said, eyes narrowed. She gave her father an accusing look. “Did you hit your number of jumps?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Edryn said, raising his hands defensively. “Though I was only one off, which I’m rather pleased with considering the circumstances.”

Nira crossed her arms. “Close isn’t winning.”

“I know I taught you that,” Edryn said, “but the older I get, the more I find myself appreciating the little victories as well as the large. It’s a much more enjoyable way of living, I assure you.”

His daughter rolled her eyes.

“Speaking of large,” Chet said with a grin. “I never got to ask, what were we betting for?”

Nira’s face soured, and Edryn’s mood did the same despite what he had just said. However, he wasn’t one to go back on his word.

“A tith,” Edryn said, pulling a tiny, partially see-through bill from his inner jacket pocket.

Chet guffawed. “Surely you’re joking.”

Edryn had expected that reaction. After all, the amount of money was so small as to be almost meaningless.

“Actually, no,” Edryn said. “The first bet Nira and I had was for a tith, and over the years we’ve never bothered to increase the amount. For us, it’s more symbolic than anything else.”

“I see,” Chet said, taking the minuscule bill. He turned to Nira, extending his hand. “Honey?”

Nira favored her fiancé with a cold look. “You’ll get it when we’re home.” So saying, she stalked from the room without so much as a backward glance.

Edryn laughed at Chet’s perplexed expression and clapped the young man on the shoulder. “Welcome to the family,” he said, and then added, “Care to wager on how long you’ll last?”

The End