“But I ain’t ever played before,” I said. “Not really.”

“Well I’ll be sure and go easy on you,” said Radegar with a wink. “Besides, your daddy being who he is, I’m sure you’re a durn natural.”

I looked at Tally, and she looked back at me. The heck was I supposed to do?

“Don’t worry now,” said Radegar. “We won’t put nothing up for wager, no witch’s bond to keep us true. We’ll just play a few rounds and you can see how a real pro does it. Who knows? Maybe I can teach you a few things that your daddy never got around to.”

“Fine,” I said. “Just a few rounds, not even a full duel. And remember, I ain’t never played before.”

“That a boy!” shouted Radegar. “Grab me a bottle of something nice and lead us on, Mr. Concierge!”

The concierge took us downstairs, to an empty room on the third floor. Me and Radegar took a seat at either side of the table. Tally stood next to me, looking about as nervous as I’d ever seen her.

“Who’s sitting witch?” said Radegar. “It better not be Betty Wettach again. That woman durn hates me, she does. Always gives me the weak magic.”

“I’ll be presiding.” A beautiful silver-haired woman in a long white gown with sequins glimmering in little eyeballs all over her dress walked into the room. “Call me Miss Arabella.”

She held her hand out to us. Radegar took it and kissed it. When it was my turn I just gave it a little shake, and the lady laughed, a sparkling high sound like bells.

Radegar clapped his hands twice. “Gather around folks, we’re about to play some Parsnit!”

That’s when I noticed it wasn’t just us in the room anymore. All kinds of folks had crammed into the back, gamblers and duelists and drinkers, the lawyer and the violin woman (who seemed to be holding hands), the stinky folks and the well-dressed, all of them, guests and house regulars and new players who probably only just darkened the doors like us, some even spilling out into the hallway, peeking in on tiptoes—all to watch me, Davey Boy Pennington’s son, play his first game of Parsnit.

I gulped.

Tally put her hand on my shoulder and whispered in my ear, “You’re attracting an awful lot of attention, considering no one’s supposed to know we’re here.”

“I’m not real sure what I’m supposed to do about it,” I whispered back. “I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t scared.”

“You’d be a durn fool too,” she said. “But you’re here, and now you got to play. Do your best not to lose too much in the process.”

That’s the thing about Parsnit. I know it seems like just a card game, where you play a few hands and tell a story or two and that’s that. But the game goes much further. You play and it feels like you’re handing a little bit of your soul over too, like it’s your heart and guts battling somebody else’s hearts and guts. It ain’t just the players either. In a truly great Parsnit duel, the audience’s hearts beat fierce and wild and all their hair stands on its ends.