And then he did that disappearing thing that all the fairy people seemed to be so good at, like they were walking through a door that only they could see. She moved her hands in the air where he’d been standing, but there was nothing there that she could either sense or feel. Before she could start to worry “What if he never comes back?” he appeared back in front of her, stepping out of nowhere with a huge armload of clothes that he dumped on the ground between them.

“See if any of this appeals to you,” he said.

Like anything that belonged to somebody half her height had the remotest chance of fitting.

But when she picked up the first item—a pair of pants made of some sort of thick cotton, dyed a greenish brown—both the waist and inseam looked to be about her size. When she tried them on, they were a perfect fit. There was also a cream-coloured jersey with three-quarter sleeves, a long-sleeved shirt made of some sort of soft blue material that was like flannel, socks, and a pair of boots that all fit as though they’d been tailored for her.

“You can turn around,” she told Timony, who’d been sitting with his back to her to offer her some privacy.

“Do you like your new clothes?” he asked.

“Anything’d be better than wandering around the forest in just a T-shirt,” she said, “but these are wonderful, thank you. They’re all so comfortable. Not really my colours, but I’m totally grateful.”

“What’s your colour?”

She smiled. “Not really a colour, per se. Just your basic blacks.”

Timony made a motion with his hands, as though he was writing something in the air, and just like that, everything she was wearing changed to a black as deep as a moonless night. It gave Lizzie a shiver, as though they weren’t clothes on her skin, but some living thing.

“Okay, how did you do that?” she asked. “Not to mention how did you find me a wardrobe that’s such a perfect fit?”

It was his turn to smile. “That’s a doonie’s gift. Our magics are of a helping nature—unless you cause us offense. But when we take a liking to you, we can call up the small changes that bring comfort against common hardships.”

“So magic just lets you do anything?”

“No. All I did just now was to ask your clothing to be a different colour and happily it agreed.”

“So it is alive. I got this creepy feeling when you made it change colour.” Then she realized what she was saying, so she held up her arm and told her sleeve, “No offense.”

The doonie laughed. “It’s only alive in the same sense that everything is alive with a spirit of some sort. But your clothes can’t get up and walk off on their own.”