Urd leaned toward Genie as well now, tapping the club across her shoulders, one hand on her hip. She'd actually been thinking about just this very conversation as she practiced her putts and drives -- what would the winner get in a personal bet between them? Her first instinct was to ask for a date, but she immediately squashed that idea. There needed to be a prize that benefited him too, right? Besides, Urd wanted any romance between them to be voluntary on his side.

So then what? Slave for a day? No, no, no. Amusing to the average person, perhaps, but Genie had done the slave thing for real and she didn't want him to deal with it again, even if it was all in good fun. (For awhile, Urd had stood on the domes of Paixao where she practiced her shots, club forgotten in her hand, eyes staring off into nothing as she pictured all the things Genie might have her do if he'd won in such a situation.)

"Whoever has the lowest score between us," she said now, smiling sweetly, "has to fly around Paixao with a banner and a megaphone, announcing all the reasons why the other is great, perfect and simply amazing."