---
Penny sniffed and pushed a bundle into John's hands. "A young man needs a decent set of clothes," she said like she was scolding a chair. "Shirt, trousers, vest, proper socks that don't pretend to be ropes. I measured you with my eyes because I am old, experienced, and my eyes know their work."
John untied the string. The cloth was good — honest weave, sewn by someone who cared about straight lines. The vest had a deep pocket made to hold pencils or secrets. "Thank you," he said, and he meant the you as much as the thanks. "I'll wear it and pretend I'm someone."
Penny snorted. "Pretend nothing. You are someone. You just need pockets."
"Next!" Fizz shouted, spinning to Pim. "Crimes!"
Pim's ears went red. He held up a crooked bracelet made of cheap thread and five beads that did not belong together. "I made it," he said, suddenly shy. "I… put a little charm on it. Penny says it's fake. But if you tie it twice and wish, you won't lose your way in the city. Probably."
