At least I had Pop’s knapsack. It was soaked on through, probably everything in it all sopping and ruined, but at least I hadn’t lost it. There was still that.

I let the river carry me on. There wasn’t any other choice in the matter, and that was a fact. I squinted my eyes and set my face firm toward the horizon.

I’m coming, Pop, I whispered to the night. I said it like a prayer, like a promise. I’m coming to save you.

5

I FIGURE NOW IS AS good a time as any to try and explain Parsnit to you, since nothing much is happening in this story right now except I’m floating downriver on a blown-up heap of boat all night. I can’t promise I’ll do a great job or anything, because Parsnit’s not an easy game to explain. You have to see it, really, to know what it’s all about. You have to be there, to watch the sitting witch pull the magic of the card, to hear the duelers Orating, to feel your hair stand on end when you go along with a story, when you start to believe it yourself.

See, I’m already getting ahead of myself. Here’s the basics, as Pop would have me tell it.

Parsnit is a game of chance, sure, but mostly it’s a game of storytelling, and of magic. To have a true Parsnit duel, you need two players, each with their own deck, and a witch, who presides over the duel. First, each player shuffles his opponent’s deck. All kinds of shenanigans would be possible during this shuffling part of things if there weren’t a witch sitting in judgment over the whole affair. If a Parsnit player tampers with another person’s cards, well, that witch might just well burn his eyes right out of his skull. Not to mention that Parsnit is a game of honor, and there ain’t much more dishonorable than cheating right off the bat.

Next, each player flips over the top card of his own deck until they land on a Person card, like the Fish Boy, or the Rambling Duke or the Dolly Witch. Any Parsnit player worth his salt will flip a Person card—not just any Person card, but the right one for this game, for how he’s feeling today, for what his soul feels like—in the first flip. If not, it means his deck don’t like him anymore. Parsnit decks are finicky, built by magic. They got a mind of their own, is all I’m saying. It won’t do to play with an ornery Parsnit deck. They’re like a good horse, you know? Won’t let a coward so much as sit on them, much less ride. But if the player’s worth a durn, and he’s got his cards working for him, then he flips his Person card right off.

The player who drew the Person card begins Orating. It’s basically storytelling, but it ain’t just making things up. It’s communicating with the card, it’s talking back and forth, saying what you see painted right there in front of you, but also drawing a picture in the minds of everybody listening, so’s they can see what you’re seeing. You Orate the story well enough and it might as well be real, it might as well be happening right there in that room. This is where the witch comes in. Witches have a way of making the stories pop and sparkle, making them come true as the very air you’re breathing. Parsnit ain’t Parsnit without a witch in the room. As the Orating goes along, the cards gain their power, they nearly flash and burn with it.