Magic, William reminded himself, is a lot more exciting than dolls. "Pick a card, Donna. Any card." Donna hugged Betsy in her arms and kept her distance. William was always trying to torment her, so this was probably some trick to scare her again. She scratched the button of Betsy's eye, which had been loose since she fetched her from a gutter in the Canals, which was also William's fault. Donna didn't like fortune tellers. They kept strange pets, like snakes or scorpions, and smelled disturbingly like Mr. Pestle's store. "Don't wanna," she muttered. "That's not your cards anyway." "I guess so."