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The tables themselves were different as well. They were all about half the length they had been previously, and were a good deal higher as well. The boys were strapped down by their legs only, and sat at one end, their bared feet extending just clear of the opposite edge. An eighth table, empty, completed the circle. Aster stared at the other seven boys and then at the empty table.

The stranger addressed the seven. “We have a slight variation in the programme today. Aster’s duel was a draw.”

“A draw? And you didn’t duel again?” Zane sounded incredulous.

“I would have had to win,” explained Aster. “But... what are you all... did each of you have a duel out there too?” he asked.

“We all lost,” explained Atticus, “so at least you improved on the result.”

“But what I don’t understand,” went on Aster, “is why. I know why I came here. I’m on a quest. But what about all of you?”

“I wanted to know how to fit in at a new school,” said Ty.

“I just wanted to stop being ashamed of myself” sighed Syrus.

“I’m trying to make sense of my history,” explained Atticus.

“I wanted to stop being overlooked,” admitted Bastion.

“I thought I’d find out how to beat Jaden consistently,” said Chazz.

“I came to try to help my brother, but there was more to it than that,” Zane spoke warily.

Jaden was unaware for a moment that the others were waiting for him to say something. “Oh, me? I just never back down from a challenge! Besides, I got to get my giggle on,” he said breezily.

Some of the others gave Jaden a Look, but Aster said that not everything had to be Deep and
Meaningful.

“Aster,” asked the stranger, “would you please take your place? Then we can begin.”

Aster climbed onto his table. Soon he was strapped down as securely as all the others. The stranger then addressed the group.

“As Aster has made the eighth member of your little society here, it seemed like a good time to hold a little tournament. There are eight of you, and you can all help me to test some of our new technology. I doubt any of you have noticed this, but the portion of the tables on which you’re all sitting is made of a special new material that will erode in reaction to movement. If someone were to tickle your feet long enough, eventually your squirming would cause your seat to wear away and you would topple backwards. The backs of your tables are padded to prevent injury when that occurs. Additionally, a large elevated
cushion will be placed behind each of you to break the fall. These devices have been tested with people weighing far more than any of you, and have been completely reliable to date.”

“So, there we are. You’ll tickle each other’s feet with the object of making your opponents squirm around enough to erode their seats and fall back, which amounts to elimination.”

“Tickle each other’s feet?” asked Chazz, “how, exactly?”

“A good question.” The stranger gave a signal to his assistants, who brought forth a large supply of poles. “You all seem to resemble a group of latter-day knights riding into the joust. We have therefore provided you with a fun type of lance, only with a tip designed to tickle instead of pierce.”

The boys looked, seeing that all the lances were equipped with feather dusters on the end. “And the lengths are exactly calculated,” the stranger went on as the hooded assistants distributed the lances to the boys, “to facilitate easy tickling of whoever’s at the opposite end of the circle. I thought we’d start with a little free-for-all to get you all used to your weapons. Then we’ll replace your seats and have a proper knockout draw.”

“A free-for-all - sweet!” cried Jaden.

“And there will be a prize for the winner. There will also be a prize for the winner of the tournament proper. Now, we’ll give you a moment to get used to the handling of your weapons.”

There was a pause while the boys accustomed themselves to holding and moving their lances, which fortunately were sufficiently light that they proved relatively easy to handle. The assistants during this time positioned the large cushions behind each of the boys. “Then, we’ll count down to the beginning. 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... TICKLE!!!”

With varying degrees of accuracy but approximately equal enthusiasm, the eight lances were
lowered into position, aimed, and extended to meet and tickle immobilized barefeet. Soon a squeal was heard as the first tickling lance found its target. Little yelps and shrieks of giggles peppered theroom briefly, then caught momentum like a bag of popcorn in a microwave as the chuckles andgiggles became contagious around the circle and soon all eight combatants were laughing steadily and trying not to squirm despite the erratic but effective tickling each was receiving to a greater or lesser degree from the weapons of the
others.

Syrus, who had the hardest time controlling his lance and the hardest time not squirming, soon squirmed enough to erode his seat, lose his balance and topple back onto the waiting cushion, out of the competition. This might have boded well for Aster, who was opposite Syrus in the circle. However, Jaden was next to Syrus. Wanting to hear Aster get his giggle on, Jaden concentrated almost 100% of his efforts on tickling Aster with sufficient enthusiasm that Aster quickly began squirming enough to suspect through his laughter that he wouldn’t last long, especially when Ty, on Syrus’ other side, joined in.

Atticus, on Ty’s other side, went at it with his opposite number, Chazz. Then they noticed that Ty and his opposing combatant Zane, who seemed the two most skilled with the lances, stopped tickling each other, perhaps afraid of knocking each other out through superiour tickling while someone else coasted to victory. Zane got in a couple of devastating tickles on Atticus while Ty took some pokes at Aster. Chazz, thinking Ty likely to be a tough rival, went after him.

Noone else had been eliminated yet, though Jaden, Atticus and Aster were laughing pretty hard, squirming around, and seemed to be on the brink, when Chazz finally realized something. By the time he could muster enough breath to say something, he gasped, “Ja-hey-heyden, haven’t you been tickling Bastion?”

“NOHOHO, Aster!” Jaden answered. Just then Atticus got in a wicked tickle between his toes, Jaden gave as big a leap as he could into the air, and the last portion of his seat eroded. Jaden fell back just as Aster slipped away at the same moment, and Atticus followed a few seconds later. In the general astonishment of the moment, things briefly quieted down as the four ticklers remaining stared at the three who’d been knocked out.
Chazz quickly called out, “Ty, Zane, Jaden never tickled Bastion! We’d better work together because he’s way ahead!”

And Bastion did have a big lead. The benefit of Jaden tickling Aster exclusively, and Chazz
concentrating on Attitcus and Ty, was that he'd gone nearly untickled, and he’d barely squirmed at all, leaving his seat much more firm than that of any of the others. Perhaps there were times when there were advantages to be derived from being under the radar, though Bastion did give a small sigh over having been overlooked again. Now he suddenly found himself the focus of three ruthless opponents, and was soon shrieking louder with
laughter than anyone else had done earlier. But the lead was too big, and Bastion was able to get in enough additional tickles to push Chazz into those last few squirms to take out the seat, then Ty and Zane almost at the same moment about a minute later, just before Bastion himself, still feeling phantom tickles, fell back exhausted.

Victory for Bastion was declared as the eight boys lay back, panting and giggling. When Chazz finally recovered himself enough to complain about Jaden tickling Aster the whole time and letting Bastion go untickled, the stranger initiated the next portion of the programme. As some assistants gathered up the lances, which had all dropped to the floor at some point during or after the free-for-all, others brought out replacement seats, or lifted the boys up and held them forward while the new seats were locked into place,
then pushed the tables back a bit to clear some space.

The stranger said, “We will now have our head-to-head, or perhaps I should call it foot-to-foot, tournament. It will be a simple knockout format. I have already done up the draw. These tickling matches will be held in rounds of varying length. You won’t know how long each round will be. Now, for the first duel, bring out Tyranno Hasselberry and Aster Phoenix!”

“The two new guys - sweet!” cried Jaden.

As Ty and Aster were pushed into positions on the marks, Zane asked Atticus, “What do you think?”

“Beats me,” Atticus tossed off with a shrug. “Ty’s got much bigger feet and they could be a target, but he’s had training to withstand tickling. I have no guess.”

Syrus just sighed and hoped he wouldn’t draw Zane. Bastion tried not to stare in Ty’s direction. Chazz decided that he’d be better off in this part of the draw.

The tickle match began. In the first round, Aster seemed to find a good spot on the ball of Ty’s right foot, but got no more than a couple of half-laughs. Aster made a little progress in the second round, but Ty found a good rhythm to brush his duster across Aster’s toes, which quickly brought out a very musical laugh out of Aster.

Aster’s laugh made a favourable impression on Jaden, who had more wits than usual about him and managed not to say anything. Ty continued in the next round, varying his attack and getting a steady stream of laughter out of Aster, who, as best he could, plugged away at the same spot.

It looked as if Ty were in control. Zane, however, realized something. Ty might not have been laughing, but he was squirming a lot more than Aster, despite all Aster’s laughter. Maybe it was hard for most of the others to see past his big feet to notice that as well. Zane thought that Ty might have been trained against laughter rather than squirming, and he was right. Just as most of the watchers were mentally writing after off, Ty wore out what was left of his seat and fell back in defeat.

As Ty’s and Aster’s tables were pushed away and the two of them were given new seats, the next match was announced. “Atticus Rhodes and Syrus Truesdale!”

Zane disliked this pairing intensely. His best friend against his little brother - how could he pull for one against the other? Chazz frowned, thinking that this match was the other quarter in Aster’s half of the draw. Jaden encouraged Syrus to do his best. The first round didn’t go too badly for Syrus.

Having little feet was an advantage, and he managed to get a good stroke up and down Atticus’ arch that made him think he might even have a slight lead.

At the end of the round, Bastion, who had been watching Atticus intently, had a question. “Atticus, when you’re just about to thrust for that rotating tickle of yours, do you inhale or exhale?”

Atticus shrugged. “Beats me.” As the next round began, he completely forgot the question.

Syrus wondered, though. When the round began, he found himself watching Atticus when he should have been trying to wriggle his feet away from the most extreme tickles of the feathery lance. Even worse, he then tried to follow his own breathing as he worked his own weapon, and found he couldn’t do a thing with it. Atticus quickly gained the upper hand, and got the win before the second round ended.

“Bastion Misawa and Jaden Yuki!”

“Sweet!” cried Jaden. “Get ready to...” but he was hushed before he could finish the sentence.

Amidst the collective groan over Jaden’s lack of originality, Jaden and Bastion were placed into position. Atticus mouthed to Zane, “Bastion should win, shouldn’t he?”

“He probably ought to win,” Zane mouthed back, “but it would be foolish to count Jaden out.”

As the match began, Bastion worked his lance with true scientific accuracy, aiming the feathers right at Jaden’s most sensitive spots. Jaden just basically made contact anywhere he could. Also, being the more irrepressible, Jaden was soon laughing louder and squirming more. Wanting the battle to last, however, he made a serious effort and didn’t succumb. Bastion steadily increased his lead, however.

Between rounds they actually chatted. Jaden was enjoying himself too much to be taciturn. Bastion was feeling a pride in his technique similar to that of some villain from children’s television who brags to the hero about the brilliant plan the hero will be unable to foil.

Just before the start of the fourth round, after Bastion finished explaining how he’d determined that Jaden’s left sole would be more ticklish than his right, Jaden exclaimed, “Hey, I’ve just thought of something! Can you imagine what Dr Crowler would say if he could see us now? He’s never had too high an opinion of me, but he’d probably accuse you of joining the slackers! Or your father; you’ve told me how uptight he is. I bet he’d have something pretty harsh to say. Though what would be funnier still - what if they were both here, only instead of telling us off they actually joined in?” The fourth round began.

Bastion could not even begin to contemplate his father and Dr Crowler engaged in a tickle fight. But Jaden’s speculation about what his father would say struck him. Bastion realized that he’d been worried about that at the back of his mind all these weeks. And why? What difference would it really make what harsh thing his father might say? When it came down to it, what did he care? He’d been tying himself in knots about his father ever since his first visit here, enjoying himself almost against his will and practically giving himself ulcers. Thinking of all the things he’d refused, like the fun he could have had with Ty (whose enormous feet had haunted him, sometimes during class, as he wondered what they
would be like to tickle or even taste), made his blood boil.

Aiming a tickle, Bastion thought it would serve his father right to be brought in here and strapped to one of these tables. And, Bastion thought, if the pater cried out to him to release him, he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d even give him what he deserved. He’d certainly do whatever he wanted to do instead of continuing all this repression.

Bastion still wanted to win this tickling duel, however. But just then, he took a quick look around, his gaze drawn as if magnetized to Ty's huge bare feet. He tried to look away back to Jaden, but that would have been tearing him away from what he wanted to keep regarding. His lance moved haphazardly, missing completely, but all Bastion wanted to do was to keep watching the way Ty's soles crinkled. As Jaden caught up in the duel Bastion wanted something else - he wanted to laugh.

And he was going to laugh. Bastion lowered his lance, kept his eyes fixed fimly in Ty's direction and laughed steadily, not feeling anything until his seat presently gave way and he fell backwards.

Jaden was as surprised as anyone. “I must be really good at this - sweet!” he cried.

When Jaden and Bastion had been removed from the field, it was time for Zane vs Chazz. Chazz thought he had a decent chance here. His feet were long and narrow, and had a good chance of being able to twist away from Zane’s tickles, while Zane’s wider feet might twist into his if he managed them correctly. The first round ended almost dead even.

Then Syrus called out, “Come on, big brother, you can do it!”

Big brother, Chazz thought to himself. He’d forgotten that aspect of things, but recalled it now as images of his own older siblings came into his head. Zane had all the authority of an older brother, the authority that was the one thing he himself was lacking. As the second round progressed, Chazz felt Zane gradually taking control of the match. Between the end of that round and the third, he assessed the sense of inevitability he was feeling, and decided there was only one thing to be done.

As the third round began, Chazz called out, “I can’t believe I’m really saying this, but Zane - time to get your giggle on!” He waited for Zane’s habitual reaction to the phrase.

But nothing came of it. Chazz waited. Jaden waited. The other boys waited. The stranger and
assistants waited. Even Zane seemed to be waiting for a moment. But the moment passed and Zane remained impassive - until he connected with a devastating tickle right in the centre of Chazz’ right sole. Chazz shrieked in both ticklishness and vexation. What had gone wrong? That stupid phrase always reduced Zane to hysterics. It couldn’t possibly be... because Jaden actually seemed to mean it, could it?

Whatever the reason, without that phrase as a trump card, Chazz knew he was lost. An older brother would always be able to dominate a younger brother. Chazz’ attempts to suppress his
squirming slackened. His seat collapsed just as the third round was ending.

As the semifinalists were being given new seats, Syrus asked if Aster had had a guess at the stranger’s identity yet.
“No,” replied the stranger, “that will come at the end of the tournament.”

“What’s this?” asked Aster. “I don’t understand.”

Several of the other boys explained at once that each week they had a chance to guess the stranger’s identity, as either a successful guess or victory in a duel was the only way they would be relieved of the obligation to return week after week for another tickling. Aster looked as if something were beginning to make sense for him. But he said no more at the moment.

After a suitable interval, it was time for the semifinal matches. First up was Atticus-Aster. This ought to have been a better match than it turned out to be. Attiucs found it too difficult to focus. For one thing, he was less competitive than the other three semifinalists. It had been this that had kept him half a step behind Zane all their time at Duel Academy. And he might have to go up against Zane if he won. For another, the
combination of Aster’s suit and bare feet was way too distracting. Despite (or perhaps because of) his own uber-casual style, Atticus had a huge thing for barefoot guys in business or formal attire. He thought too often about how he’d have to get Aster into some of his best flip-flops; that would look SO HOT!!! And as much fun as the tournament was, he’d like even better the opportunity to have a private go at those barefeet with his hands (or even his tongue)... and the next thing Atticus knew the match was over; he’d lost (all too soon).

Then came Jaden versus Zane. This was over even more quickly. Zane was debating with himself whether or not he ought to appeal to Jaden’s sense of fair play and ask him not to say it when Jaden came out with it. “Okay, Zane - time to GET YOUR GIGGLE ON!!!”

Zane shrieked. He couldn’t believe he was so powerless to stop that silly phrase from driving him into complete hysterics. But there was just something about the way Jaden said it. “Ohohohoh, come ohahahahon, don’t SAY that!!!” he cried.

“Don’t say what?” babbled Jaden, in a rare instance of being coy instead of, as usual, genuinely being unaware of what he was doing that was contributing to someone’s reactions. “Get Your Giggle On? I suppose you have to mean Get Your Giggle On, because all I said was Get Your Giggle On! What’s wrong with my saying Get Your Giggle On? I mean, if Get Your Giggle On were so powerful, then why doesn’t everyone just double over and laugh like a hyena whenever I say Get Your Giggle On? So why does my saying Get Your Giggle On get to you, Zane? What makes you react like that when I say Get Your Giggle On? Anyone would think my saying Get Your Giggle On makes you wanna, like, well, Get Your Giggle On! So if you wanna Get Your Giggle On whenever you hear me say Get Your Giggle On, then all I can say about that is GET YOUR GIGGLE ON!!!!!”

And Zane had thought he was in hysterics the first time? Each utterance of that silly phrase made it exponentially worse. It was almost as if he’d been hypnotized and Jaden’s phrase triggered his posthypnotic suggestion. Zane knew he was lost before Jaden was even halfway through his litany. It was impossible to appeal or beg or plead or implore or supplicate or even surrender. Zane became one complete mass of uncontrollable laughter, barely noticing Jaden’s tickling lance, becoming only less controllable until mercifully his squirming was enough to erode his seat and send him toppling back, still shrieking.

Although all of the other boys except for Aster had already witnessed the power Jaden’s catch phrase had over Zane, none of them had ever seen such a potent example. For a moment after the end of the match there was complete silence. Then Jaden said at last, “Wow, that really worked! Too bad I didn’t say Get Your Giggle On when we dueled yesterday. I might have lasted more than three turns.”

Another short interval followed before the final match of Aster versus Jaden. The other six boys discussed the pairing amongst themselves. Of Ty and Bastion, each hoped that his earlier loss would be mollified by proving to have gone out to the eventual champion. Zane thought that Jaden had had a lucky draw so that Aster should win, while Atticus backed Jaden because he thought it would be incredible to see Aster go through the whole process of losing. Syrus hated siding against his brother but couldn’t go against Jaden, while Chazz hated siding with Zane but couldn’t bring himself to back Jaden.

When the finalists were in position, Jaden asked, “So, Aster, anything to say before we get started?”

This surprised most of the others, who’d expected Jaden to come out with his catch phrase.
Presumably he was just giving Aster a chance to say something first.

Aster replied, “The only thing I can think of, dude, is to ask if you’re ready to get your giggle on.”

“Sweet!” Jaden cried with a little laugh. “Sure thing, bro!”

Chazz and Atticus both gasped. Each felt a sudden rise of hysterical panic on hearing Aster uttering Jaden’s pet catch phrase, but managed to conceal it well enough, especially as Bastion, Ty and Syrus, expecting Jaden to say it, were all watching Zane. It would likely provide future food for thought that Jaden saying those four words evoked no stronger reaction than an urge to groan, while the same words spoken by Aster practically sent them into orbit. Privately, Chazz also wondered why nobody had reacted hysterically, so far as he could tell, when he’d said the magic words against Zane.

Then Jaden and Aster lowered their lances and began tickling each other. It looked like a fairly even matchup to the others. It was Jaden and his sense of fun against Aster and his musical laugh. Which would prove more vulnerable?

For a couple of rounds, Jaden and Aster matched each other heel to heel, arch to arch, sole to sole, toe to toe, giggle to giggle. The others marveled at the musical quality of Aster’s laughter, especially that none of them could think of any more satisfactory adjective than the vague “musical” to describe whatever is was in it that struck them as rare and strange. Jaden had more fun than ever, and Aster felt an even stronger sense of purpose than he knew.

Atticus pointed something out to Zane. “Look at Aster,” he whispered. “He might have been different in the free-for-all, but now he’s a laugher, not a squirmer. He’s actually way ahead, though it looks dead even. I think it was the same way in his first match with Ty.”
Zane agreed, just before Jaden lost his seat, ending the tournament.

Aster’s victory was proclaimed by the stranger. The other boys gave him a long round of applause.

Then the stranger’s assistants released the eight boys from their strapped-in positions. They all lowered themselves carefully to the ground, stretching out of their stiffness.
Ty recovered first and asked, “So what prize does Aster get for winning?”

“Or does he have to guess who you are now are?” asked Syrus.

“Syrus is correct,” said the stranger. “It is time for Aster to guess my identity. In fact, I suppose it would be fair to say that his prize for winning the tournament depends on his guess.”

One or two of the other boys wondered at this, but Aster did not pause. “I’ve been considering this,” he said. “Before I came to this room today, I thought there was a very good chance that you might turn out to be my father. But I’d know if you were my father, and you’re not. I think you’ve worked with him, though. I don’t really remember the names of all his assistants, but think you’re one of them.”

The stranger gave Aster a long look, then said, “For you, I almost wish I could be. But no. And now for the prizes. Would you all go behind that partition? There are little cubicles where you can change.”

Each of the boys was assisted to a makeshift changing room containing his bathing suit. The changes were accomplished quickly. The eight boys filed back out together to see a single full-length table of a sort seven of them recognized, only with what appeared to be rather fewer straps.

“We have had a momentous day today. You boys are now eight in number,” said the stranger, “and the eighth among you has proven himself to be worthy of a most special induction into your group. Aster, if you would care to take the place of honour, we can proceed,” indicating the table.

Aster studied the table for a moment, then climbed on, as some of the others thought of questions.

As Aster was being strapped in, rather loosely and in a shape that was almost exactly between an X and a Y, Chazz finally asked, “Why did we change into our bathing suits? We’ve never done this before.”

“It seemed the more practical course of action,” replied the stranger. “Now perhaps the rest of you will take your places. Zane, if you’d be so good as to go to the top left, and Jaden the top right. That’s exactly right. Now Chazz to the upper-mid-left and Atticus the upper-mid-right... good, Syrus to the lower-mid-left and Tyranno the lower-mid-right... yes, that’s it, and then, for winning the free-for-all, Bastion you have the bottom of the table all to yourself.” It took very little time for the seven boys to position themselves as directed.

“Very good, you are all in your places. Now put on a good show and welcome Aster into your little fraternity.”

“What, all seven of us tickle Aster at once?” asked Ty. “Not all seven at full strength. Sam Hill! He’ll pass out, won’t he?”

“I think not. Aster has survived a great deal, and it’s actually essential that you give him your best. Afterwards, there may be time for each of you to provide a taste of his individual skill, but at the moment it will be a group welcome. Shall we say on a count from ten? Perhaps Aster will do the honours himself.”

Aster duly counted down from ten to zero, maintaining an even pace. His seven ticklers synchronized themselves perfectly with his counting. Noone jumped the gun or lagged behind.

Like the best Swiss clockwork, on the rounding of the letter O in zero, Aster felt the impact as seventy tickling fingers all struck in unison.

At first, despite what he’d expected, Aster felt almost too shocked to laugh or react at all. That lasted a mere instant. Then his clear laugh rang out - the laugh that had all the allure of the Pied Piper’s pipe, the laugh that could have made a dedicated tickler out of those who had long foresworn all human contact, or, in this case, the laugh that almost brought Aster’s seven ticklers to a full halt before they redoubled their efforts in order to keep it going as long as they could. But with such overwhelming simultaneous tickling
literally all over his body, Aster could not prolong that laughter indefinitely. After some minutes, it yielded to a squeal, a sort of stacatto bark, and almost silent convulsions in turn, each of which maintained almost the same charm over its hearers as the laugh had done.

As for Aster himself, things began to connect as he felt himself being tickled almost into a different dimension - maybe, the thought flickered through with some amusement, the same different dimension as in the card game, in the instance of cards like D.D. Warrior and D.D. Survivor. He could call himself a D.D. Survivor if he made it through this tickling with his sanity intact. Too bad that monster wouldn’t really fit into his deck with its Destiny Heroes. Other thoughts flashed through what little piece of consciousness Aster could retain from the sensations of being tickled all over.

The stranger’s use of the word fraternity just now seemed - well, destined. Equally destined was the way Jaden had called him bro just before they had begun the final match of the tickling tournament. As accidental as those two words might have seemed at the time, Aster sensed a significance in them, an essence that called to him through the medium of his delirious delight in the tickling he was receiving. It was an essence that let him distinguish and revel in every detail of the experience beyond natural capacity.

Aster reveled in all the silly teasing phrases Jaden uttered as quickly as he could think of them (and which made Get Your Giggle On sound like a lecture on brain surgery), in the masterly way Zane circled infinitesimally closer to the most ticklish spots of his armpit and chest before swooping in at the exact moment of perfect ticklishness (in a manner perhaps not duplicated since the days of Terence Truesdale himself), in the dancing way Chazz’ long, narrow fingers played his ribs like piano keys (which in the due course of time would be told to Chazz himself, and would eventually lead to the Princeton catch phrase that it was time to make a little Chazz music), in the gloriously inelegant noises Atticus made blowing raspberries on his stomach (as well as the delicious way Atticus’
tongue lapped at his navel as if at an ice cream cone), in Ty’s demonstration with full military precision of his perfect knowledge of the exact anatomy of the human knee and all its most entertaining points of interest (even to the point of Ty actually removing his cherished dinosaur helmet and using it as part of his tickle), in the tentative fluttering of shy Syrus’ little hands on his thigh (a touch which Syrus never entirely realized was almost as effective as the vigourous digs that were generally favoured by most of the others), in the greedy scrabbling of Bastion’s fingers across his soles as if even with both feet completely at their disposal they were unable to get enough (and the furtive way, when noone seemed to be looking, that Bastion’s tongue slid along his arches or slithered between his toes).

Without the incentive there had been in the tournament to refrain from squirming, Aster writhed and wriggled wildly as he laughed as hard as he could. As he strained to respond to the tickling of each of the other seven at once, he felt the settling of some new sense of destiny. He might find his father tomorrow, next week, next month, next year, maybe even never. But even with a father lost, perhaps forever, Aster could claim a family found, a family built (as his armpits, neck, chest, ribs, sides, stomach, navel, thighs, knees legs and feet all attested to the fullest extent) on a foundation as solid and strong as blood, or which at the precise moment felt even a good deal more so, a foundation that, let him wander to the ends of the earth and through the utmost of human experience, could always bring him back to this moment in the flicker of a toe.

The exhaustion from which such realizations sprang was making itself evident. Aster was just able to gasp out the occasional, “Oh, my ----,” naming wherever he happened to be feeling the tickling most at the moment, but it was beyond him to make any further verbal interruption. Perspiration, like a glaze on a gourmet entree covered his laughter-pinkened body from head to toe. Aster’s hair, which had always before kept its style throughout even the most vigourous of activities and fallen in clean, neat lines without the stiffness of Bastion’s or Chazz' rigid coiffure, had gone damp all through and plastered itself to his head in a state of disarray that might have led a spectator to think he’d just run
a double marathon. How long he’d been tickled who knew? Not Aster.

The stranger, looking on, saw that Aster had realized what he had been supposed to realize. The day was the success that had been foreseen. There would be further successes with, and further fun for, the hero of destiny. But it was time for the day’s tickling to draw to a close; the boys would be quite late enough back.

Zane and Atticus helped Aster out of his restraints and off the table; Jaden and Chazz walked him back to the changing area. It took Aster only a little longer than the others to change, but when he emerged he looked very nearly himself again with even his hair almost back to normal. All the boys looked surprisingly normal, with only their still-bare feet indicating any potentially unusual afternoon activity.
The stranger, apparently feeling some mystic significance in their numbering eight, had them pose for a group photograph, sitting in a line, with TICKLISH DUELISTS written on their sixteen feet. Afterwards, when they rose to go, Jaden asked who was left at Duel Academy to be selected to join them the following week. The stranger replied that there was a very good chance that there would not be any other student making them nine just at present.

“Then won’t we be coming back kere next week?” asked Atticus, sounding disappointed.

“Of course you’ll be back next week. Nobody has guessed my identity yet. And, which is perhaps even more important, I’m thinking now of having Aster tickle the other seven of you at once.” Zane, Ty, Atticus, Bastion, Jaden, Chazz and Syrus all looked at each other. Aster looked at them all, then smiled.