Emily made her way to the lost-and-found booth at the far side of the fairgrounds.

"Oh good!" said Margret, jumping up from her stool. "You're right on time! Now I must go change into my square dancing dress. Here's the tray of found items, under the counter."

"Who would bring a snowglobe to the fair?" Emily asked.

"No, no, that's from the fortune-telling booth." Margret pointed to the adjoining site. "Olivia had promised to ride the merry-go-round with her granddaughter. She didn't want to leave it unattended."

"Olivia? A fortune-teller?"

"She looks more like a voodoo priestess from the bayou," Margret admitted.

"Did someone lose a first aid kit? And a roll of duct tape?"

"No, the nurse is taking her dinner break." Margret nodded the other side. "Her husband just finished fixing her sign."

Emily seated herself. "Guess I've been promoted to Lost-Found-Handyman-Nurse-Wisewoman. Hope no one gets Injured or Forlorn during my shift. I think I can handle Found and Broken."

She surveyed the found items, then took out a book. The evening air tasted of hot scones and fresh popcorn.

"Found this!" a voice announced.

Emily looked up. A teenage couple had arrived with the twilight. The girl handed over a rabbit's foot with several bedraggled feathers knotted onto the charm's leather thong.

"I still think you should keep it," the boy said. "Finders keepers, losers weepers."

"Oh shush!" They sauntered back to the crowded fairgrounds.

Emily finger-combed the fibers of the feathers to lay smooth. Jay blue, flicker orange, crow black, and plush rabbit white.

Thin silvery threads of light strung from the childish treasure, Emily saw with her second sight. A sparkly one led back to the departing young woman -- bright but quickly fading. A paler yet steady, undimming strand led into the woods at the edge of the park, winding with several other filaments that bounded along with youthful energy.

At the sound of hurried footsteps, Emily lay down the trinket and set one guardian hand on the snowglobe.

But it wasn't a skulking thief. A woman, clutching a baby to her shoulder, rushed up. "My little boy, he's wandered off!" she cried. "Do you have a megaphone to call for him?"

Emily looked under the counter. "Sorry but no."

The mother turned, scanning the scene. "I've looked all over! Where can he have--" She broke off and spun back, gazing down at the counter. "That's his rabbit foot! How did you get it?"

"Someone turned it in. Umm--" Emily gazed down at the snowglobe, trying to figure out how to give the woman a believable tip. She looked up again and pointed toward the woods. "Have you checked that direction? I saw a bunch of kids run that--"

The woman dashed off, spinning her own strand of light, swirling red with fear.

Some minutes later, the mother returned, clenching tight the hand of a small, grubby, sniffling boy. "He had slipped down the muddy bank of the creek," she said. "He could have fallen in and gotten swept away! How can I ever thank you?"

The filament of light grew taut and bright between the youngster and his fur-and-feather charm. "You're welcome," Emily told the mother, handing the little boy his rabbit's foot. It flashed golden at the reunion, then simmered into what could only be called a happy glow.

"I never believed in fortune-telling before," the mother said with a glance at the snowglobe.

"Ah," Emily said. "Yes. Just part of our services!"