The only reason Tay rolled out of his cot the following morning was because of his aching back. Maybe it had taken one too many drops from Cari. But he managed to stretch out of the pain and then gather up all the cards sprawled across the floor from where he’d left them from playing through the night with Cari.

Tay stowed the cards in the chest, and latched it shut before leaving the kitchen. It was there that he was posed a mystery.

Because at the dining table, there were not four, but rather two bowls full of grain. Tay frowned, until Cari slammed her door open. Her bloodshot red eyes fell upon him, and she groaned heavily.

“We slept in,” she said.

“What?” Instinctively, his gaze drifted to the kitchen, only to realize that outside was only lit by candles, and that there really was no way for the people of Duskborough to keep track of the days outside of their own heads.

“We slept in,” Cari said. Then she noticed the two bowls and winced. “By a lot. We stayed up too late.” She shook her head and then raced over to him. “Mond. Where’s Mond?”

They found the giant of a man tucked away behind the counter downstairs, keeping a mob of children at bay with nothing but pieces of candy. But from the way they stowed the candy in their pouches and pockets, it seemed the kids were here not for the candy, but for some other reason.

“Is it really true, Mond?”

“Can you show us some of your cards?”

“You’re not really going to duel, are you?”

Mond noticed both Cari and him approach, and threw out one last handful of candy before sending the children on their way. He then stood up straight, smiled, and wished them both good morning.

“What a day for you to sleep in, kid,” Mond said, turning to Tay. “We’re lucky that I’m around, or all of Duskborough would’ve been in serious trouble.”

Tay inhaled, and he shared a look with Cari, whose hair had ruffled out and eyes had gone wide.

“What do you mean?” Tay asked.

“Well, you had a duel at dawn,” Mond said, sliding a couple of empty taffy wrappers off of the counter from where the children had left them. “But don’t you worry. I explained everything to Quincy, and he’s been running door-to-door since long before even the earliest-rising topsiders were up. By now, the Polamunds ought to know the change in our plans.”

And Mond began to place his cards out on the counter in front of him, grinning as their snowy aura wound up through the air and broke against his face. He shuffled them about, and reassembled them back into a deck that he stowed in his belt. He gave a it a firm slap when it was tucked away.

“Mond…” Cari said, but she could only shake her head.

The ring of the door’s bell, and the subsequent thumps against the wooden floor, signaled Sally’s presence moments before the girl hopped into the middle of the three of them. She clapped her hands together, spun about, and then smiled up at Mond.

“Everyone’s talking about it, Mond. Everyone. Finally—finally—we’re going to get to see you duel!”

Her eyes were beaming, and her excitement was so palpable that Tay could feel himself growing a little eager at the chance to see Mond duel. She clapped her hands together again in glee.

Mond stepped out from behind the counter, and took a knee in front of Sally. He placed a giant hand over her scrawny shoulder, and gave her a look that was so warm that it would have made cold soup simmer.

“You and I will have to duel another time, Sally,” Mond said. “I’m going to need you to watch the shop today.”

As quick as a lightning bolt, Sally’s excitement fled. Her faced warped into concern, and her mouth fell open. “What? That’s not fair, Mond! Everyone in Peace and Quiet is going to be there. I want to be there too!”

“I know, I know,” Mond said. “But I’m going to need you to help your sister with the shop today, okay? We gotta make rent. You and your sister know that. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

While Sally was in shock, Cari trembled next to him, her face turned away. Was she upset? Angry? Probably a little bit of both. All that practice together had been for nothing now.

Mond rose, and then asked Cari, “You don’t mind watching the shop while Tay and I are out, right? We should be back in a couple hours.”

Cari turned her head slowly to regard Mond. Her eyes were glazed, but her face was otherwise passive. “That’s fine,” was all she said.

Mond clapped his hands together and finally returned to Tay. “Now, I think it’s time enough to be on our way. Go and everything you need from upstairs, and have you had anything to eat? You ought to grab a bite. Sally and I left your meals out on the table.”

So, chest in hand, and belly full of milk-soaked grain, Tay set off with Mond while the sisters managed the candy shop. Tay was a little more than reluctant to see it go, and would’ve appreciated the chance to say goodbye to Cari, at the very least. But she had locked herself up in her room right after finishing her breakfast.

Peace and Quiet definitely was anything but. They hadn’t even managed to leave the street before neighbors came hustling over. In a matter of minutes, they had a whole entourage made of merchants, professionals, and anybody who wanted to finally have a chance at seeing Mond the Champion play a game of Runicka.

At the head of their merry band, was the short and stocky man named Quincy, who hadn’t failed to notice Tay’s red hair, nor the small chest, upon joining up with them. Quincy gave him a wink, as if to tell him that he knew this had originally been all about him.

“Got the word out of Peace and Quiet,” Quincy said. “Don’t think there’s a single person in all of Duskborough who doesn’t know what’s going down.”

“Good,” Mond said. “House Polamund always loves their crowds.”

In the uppermost tier of Duskborough, there wasn’t a place more profitable for topsider and bottomsider alike than Whalemaw Square. The have-nots came here to gather what the darkness couldn’t provide, and the haves came to devour all the coin they could swallow. Maybe that’s why someone had gone and hung the giant skull that looked down upon the open market. The whole thing had three rows of sharp teeth, four eye sockets, and was about as big as a small house. If it really belonged to a whale, Tay hoped its kind didn’t swim in the waters around Stormwall.

And below the skull, was a crowd.

Almost every merchant, urchin, off-duty guard, and wayward priest in the area cheered as Mond and the people of Peace and Quiet approached. The only people who didn’t were the three at the very center of the market, standing in the shadow of the whale skull.

The man with spiky brunette hair still wore his emerald robes, and he was joined by the very same steel-clad guards who had assailed Tay the prior morning. All three took a long look at Mond as he strolled out from the crowds to join them, but it was the lead man whose coal black eyes burned with a quiet anger.

“So, you’re him then,” the man said. “Mondromo Yizzit. My father will be in complete shock if he ever finds out that you’re down here.”

The Mondromo that Tay had gotten to know almost never gave a straight face, preferring to keep a grin around to show his easygoing and charming personality. Challenging this man from House Polamund sucked all the joy out of Mond, leaving him little more than a giant statue in the shape of a man.

“Father? So, you must be Ramseth’s kid. I’ve heard of you, Ranthomandir.”

Ranthomandir combed his hand through his hair, and laughed before tilting his head and lazily looking toward Mond. “If you’ve heard of me, then you’ll know I’m not some cheap, pushover of a duelist. Someone who’s been out of the game for two decades won’t stand a chance against me.”

Ranthomandir’s gaze shifted, and fell to Tay. Tay jumped, and his body told him that the wisest course of action would be to retreat into the crowds and flee as quick as he could. He ignored that impulse though. Mond was willing to face Ranthomandir on his behalf. The least he could do was stand here in support.

Still, his little jump was enough to make Ranthomandir smirk. “You’re a pathetic lot, now that I’m actually getting to see you up close. A has-been and an urchin. That’s who stole from House Polamund.” Ranthomandir held out his hand, palm facing upward. “I’ll cut you a deal, Mondy. You give me what you stole, and I’ll let you and that fool of a thief next to you leave this city with your lives.”

The crowd went silent, and Tay’s heart fluttered. So, there was a way out of this after all—all they had to do was return the cards.

But Mond held out his arm, either to keep Tay safe or to prevent him from having second thoughts. Then, to Ranthomandir, Mond said, “We’re not leaving Stormwall, kid.”

Ranthomandir straightened, and held his breath. “You can’t stay here. You shouldn’t even be alive. If you’ve come to this challenge, seeking to take the place of that thief, then you better be prepared to wager more than what I already own. When you lose, you leave Stormwall forever. Both of you.”

Ranthomandir unlatched the brown and square pouch at his belt, and thick black smoke escaped from the opened deck box. Mond did the same, but the glow from his cards was like that of a cold, snowy wind.

“And if I win,” Mond said, “you and the rest of your cursed House stay out of Duskborough. For good this time.”

Tay stepped back as they both drew their hands of five cards each. The crowd began to surge in excitement again as they fanned out to the edges of Whalemaw Square. Tay found a place standing next to Quincy, who was shifting his weight up and down on the balls of his feet.

“One of you, toss a coin,” Ranthomandir said to his guards. “I’ll be heads and you’ll be tails, if that’s fine with you.”

Mond nodded, and the guard flicked a coin up, caught it, and then turned it over. It came up tails, and most of the crowd cheered. They were hungry to see what Mond could do.

Mond angled himself so that his deck was facing away from Ranthomandir and plucked the outermost card to add into his hand. He took a moment to look over what he had.

“Take all the time you need,” Ranthomandir said. “It’s not like anything in your deck is going to save you from justice for my father. You have no idea how much money you cost him.”

“I have some idea,” Mond said. “Otherwise, I never would’ve left. I’ll start by summoning the Tamsian Warden.”

And instead of finding a table to place his card against, Mond took his glowing card and flicked it out toward Ranthomandir. The card flew straight through the air, as true as an arrow, and vanished into a great flash of white light that illuminated the whole square. Tay had to shield his eyes for a moment.

When he took his hand away, the card was a card no longer. There, in the middle of the square, sword pointed at Ranthomandir and shield at the ready, was a knight.

He was clad in grey armor, with strange symbols that also glowed as white as snow. From within its full helmet, the same aura escaped in breaths. And along its back, it wore a shining white cloak that drifted into nothingness, like a waterfall too high above a basin.

So this was what Mond had meant when he had asked Tay to summon a revenant. Runicka could be played with cards. Or it could be played with the monsters sealed away within them, their power now unleashed.

Because Tay could feel the power of this Tamsian Warden. That white aura swirled around it, whipping up its cloak, and flowing through its armor. And, more importantly, it also surrounded Mond.

It wasn’t as defined as it had been before, but there seemed to be a white outline around all of Mond’s body. Like snow was falling all around his skin, glittering outward into the breeze.

But for how impressed Tay was, Ranthomandir seemed hardly phased by the knight now staring him down. Instead, like he really didn’t care either way, Ranthomandir asked, “Is that all you’re going to be doing?”

“Not all. I’m also going to bring out Lumbering Leyspring.”

Mond threw another card, and after it flashed, there was a large boulder resting right next to the Tamsian Warden. Then it began to crack, and the cracks began to glow, and the glowing consumed it until the boulder burst. It grew arms, a head, and two large chunks for legs. White water flowed from its back, seeping into itself as a soft pale mist flowed out into the market square. When the mist touched Tay’s nose, he thought it smelled rather sweet, like a fresh strawberry pie.

“The Leyspring will give my Warden a small boost in Power,” Mond said. “But since it’s my first turn, I’ll leave it at that.”

Small boost in Power? But by how much though? No one else in the crowd seemed to be confused by that. When Cari and Sally had been playing, Tay had been able to just lean over and read the cards, but that no longer seemed an option now that the cards were actually summoned into being.

Probably noticing his confusion, Quincy leaned over to whisper, “If you focus on the revenants long enough—really focus on them—then their secrets will reveal themselves to you. Just look at that old Lumbering Leyspring. Try and find its name. You know it already, so you know what you’re looking for.”

Tay nodded, and did as Quincy bade him, staring at the shifting pile of animated rock. At first, it seemed to only be a marvelous creature made of stone. But, and it only flashed for not even half of a second, Tay thought he could make out something more.

Just like the writing on the card had tried making itself unknown to him, there seemed to be a part of these revenants that didn’t want itself to be known either. But Tay knew the name of the Lumbering Leyspring, and pictured that word in his mind.

As if written on the stone in bright white ink, the word Lumbering Leyspring suddenly blossomed across its rocky form.

(10) Lumbering Leyspring Inert Inert revenants gain +1 Power. Passive 0 >

The writing coated the revenant whenever he cared to focus on it, like it was a tattoo that faded away when he no longer cared to see it. Tay checked to see if he could do the same for the Tamsian Warden. Sure enough, there was writing all along the back of its armor.

(10) Tamsian Warden Inert This revenant gains +1 Power for each other Tamsian revenant you control. 2 >

“So long as you know what you’re looking for with revenants, your sight will compensate,” Quincy explained.

“Thank you,” Tay said.

Now, it was Ranthomandir’s turn to draw. And it must’ve been a pretty good one, because he couldn’t keep himself from chuckling afterward.

“This duel is over before it’s even begun, old man,” Ranthomandir said. “You’re fighting me with your Tamsian cards. Do you know how long those were powercrept? You’ve brought a needle to a swordfight. Behold! My Grinning Statue!”

Ranthomandir swiped a black-glowing card from his hand and flicked it out in front of him. The blackness around it swirled for a moment before bursting into a cloud of shadow. Tay flinched, and wanted to run, but then held his ground as the darkness receded.

In the middle of the square, facing down the moving boulder and steel-clad warden, was a statue on a square pedestal holding a sword aloft above its head, complete with a devilish grin across its face.

(10) Grinning Statue Latent Dormant: this revenant gains +2 Power. Barrier < 0

0 Power? How in the world was Ranthomandir thinking that such a card would be able to stand up to Mond’s Tamsian Warden? That card had 3 Power now, and Mond would definitely make it attack this weak statue on his next turn.

But Tay realized Ranthomandir wasn’t done when he threw a second card out. “And now I fuse my Stone Homunculus on top of it!”

The card flew directly into the back of the Grinning Statue, where it then burst into a fountain of dark light. From the darkness flew bits and pieces of stone, from the statue no doubt. When the light faded, where there had been the statue, there was now an abomination.

Perched on top of the square pedestal, flicking its arrow-like tail back and forth, with squinting eyes of pure red flames, was this so-called Stone Homunculus. It had a hunched back and a malicious stance that said it would try and kill everything in the square, if only allowed to do so. Currently, its gaze was directed straight at the Tamsian Warden.

Tay also noticed that within its hands, it held the stone sword of the Grinning Statue. And over its shoulders and knees, pieces of the statue clung to its stony flesh like bits of armor. Indeed, when he focused, there were two sets of words to study.

(20) Stone Homunculus Stable Whenever a Chaos revenant is obliterated, target foe revenant loses -1 Power. Then, if its Power is 0, it is obliterated. < 2

Then, underneath it, Tay could see more writing, almost attached to the first, like it was fused onto the bottom.

Barrier < 2

That second part belonged to the Grinning Statue. The cards had truly combined, much like what had happened when Cari had fused her pixies together.

Ranthomandir put his hands on his hips, before swinging one forward and pointing straight at the Tamsian Warden. “And now, my Stone Homunculus, attack and obliterate his Tamsian Warden!”

Cocking its head to the side first, the Stone Homunculus leaped from its square pedestal up and into the air. It flipped about and then landed just in front of a now-flinching Tamsian Warden. Before the soldier could react, it shot its tail forward, the arrowhead on the end leading. Its tail skewered the warden right through the neck, and in a flash of white light, the warden vanished into nothingness.

As nothing more than fading sparkles told of the warden’s demise, the crowd went wild. Some cheered for Ranthomandir, but others called for Mond to stay in the game. Tay watched as Mond slowly reconsidered his hand. His usual joviality had not returned.

“You’re playing an outdated deck, Mondromo!” Ranthomandir called out, over the cheers of the crowd. “You’ve been out of the game too long, and the meta’s long since moved on.”

Then Ranthomandir turned right toward Tay. Those black eyes now held ever bit of living darkness that each of those cards did. “And you,” Ranthomandir said, “might as well hand that chest back over right now. This game is already over.”