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tower.
    I woke suddenly with the image of the girl's face before me. In my bedroom window, the witch catcher sparkled in the morning light. Tink perched on the windowsill beneath it, watching the globe intently, his ears pricked as if he heard something.
    While the cat watched, I carried the globe back to its hiding place in my closet. Still under the sped of my dream, I almost expected it to feel warm in my hands, to glow and pulsate, but its glass surface remained cool.

5
    A FTER BREAKFAST, D AD suggested a trip to Mingo. Since he'd seen Uncle Thaddeus's paintings, he had an itch to buy some art supplies and start working on his own pictures. He also had to buy food for tonight's dinner.
    "There's a little ice cream parlor you might enjoy," he added.
    Mingo wasn't exactly a mecca for shopping. The only store that sold art supplies was a small place called Crafty Corners. I followed Dad inside and looked at scrapbook supplies while he talked to a woman with long silvery blond hair pulled back in a careless knot. She had a nice smile, and she seemed happy to show Dad a small display of acrylic paints, drawing tablets, and brushes.
    "I'm afraid we don't have much for serious artists," she said. "You might have better luck buying supplies online. That's what I do."
    "Do you paint?" Dad asked.
    She shrugged. "A little."
    "Landscapes? People? Abstract or figurative? Oils? Watercolors? Acrylics?"
    "Oh, some of everything. How about you?"
    In a few moments, they were talking art. I wandered around the store looking at sheets of decals. a display of artsy rubber stamps and colored ink pads, sprays of fake flowers, and plasticine clay. Soon bored, I returned to the counter just in time to hear the woman say, "You live in the castle? The one with the tower? I've always been fascinated by that place."
    "Thaddeus Mostyn was my great-uncle." Dad said. "I'm his only heir."
    "Was he as strange as people say?" The woman leaned across the counter, waiting for Dad to answer.
    He shrugged. "He was definitely eccentric—but brilliant."
    "He painted, didn't he? Fantastical things in the style of Arthur Rackham."
    "Yes. Moura Winters knows a man who collects that sort of thing. She can arrange a sale, if I'm interested."
    At the mention of Moura's name, the woman drew back slightly. "The owner of the Dark Side of the Moon?"
    Dad nodded. "I don't know much about antiques. Moura's been very helpful."
    "I bet she has." the woman said.
    I tugged Dad's sleeve. "How about that ice cream? I'm hungry."
    Dad paid for a set of watercolors, a few brushes, and a tablet. "Good luck with your painting," he said to the woman.
    She smiled her nice smile. "You'll have to bring your work in and show it to me sometime," she said. "The local coffee shop displays paintings. New show every month. My name's Rosie. I help choose what they hang."
    Dad nodded. "Thanks, Rosie. Maybe I'll do that."
    As we left, I glanced over my shoulder. Rosie smiled at me and raised her hand in a sort of wave. But it was Dad she was looking at.
    The ice cream parlor turned out to be a Dairy Queen. While we were waiting for our order, I said, "That woman was flirting with you."
    Dad laughed. "Don't be silly. She was just friendly, that's all."
    The only grocery store in Mingo was small and dingy compared to the big suburban chains back home. I was bored in less than five minutes.
    Leaving Dad to select things for dinner, I took a walk. The morning was already hot, but the streets were quiet and shady. I passed two churches, a hardware store, a beauty shop, and a video-rental store. The faded posters in its windows were from movies I'd already seen.
    At the end of the block, I glimpsed a sign for the Dark Side of the Moon hanging above the door of a narrow brick house. Ready to run if I saw Moura, I ducked behind a tree across the street from the shop. Despite my dislike of the woman. I wanted to learn all I could about her. For Dad's sake, I told myself. To protect him from making a big