One hour before her time stop ended, Rita leapt into another cloud house. This was the window she had given herself — if entering didn't cancel the pause, she would have time to check other houses and study their rules.
But just as she had expected, the instant she stepped inside and saw the layout of the game table, time resumed.
She didn't even need to read the rules on the wall. One look at the setup and the players' frantic expressions told her everything.
Turtle Racing.
There was only one massive table, twenty meters long, divided into ten lanes. Each lane had a tiny turtle inching slowly toward the finish line. Every meter or so stood a miniature hurdle.
Around the table, players were shouting their turtle's name at the top of their lungs.
Even Pine Bloom — the ever-poised, ever-elegant Pine Bloom — was screaming her turtle's name with raw desperation.
Each time her voice rose, the turtle in her lane actually jumped.
No way. Were these things voice controlled?
