There was no sign of Madam Isis, but it was impossible to miss Ash and Roxy. Ash wobbled down the midway, a snow cone balanced on his nose, while Roxy skipped around him shrieking with laughter. “Good trick!” she cried, clapping her hands. As soon as Ash saw me, he said, “Whew! Thought you’d never get here.” He handed the snow cone to Roxy, and we wandered down the midway while she licked it with ferocious concentration and I told Ash what Madam Isis had said. “The funny thing is, I met an old man in the woods this afternoon,” I said. “Now Madam Isis, who I don’t even know, tells me he told her my name and gave her a message for me. And the message is all about Roxy running after that crazy stray dog. Something very weird is going on.” Ash chewed gently at the inside of his cheek, which he only does when he’s thinking hard. “Not necessarily,” he said. “Maybe the old man works for the carnival, too. Maybe he spies for her. Most people who claim to be psychics work with partners, you know.
