OVER THE NEXT few days the duties of school absorbed the girl from Poldorama and she began lessons with a grateful sense of purpose. With routines becoming familiar and after the incident of the intruder and its consequences, Pirouette seemed less confrontational with everyone. Even Meresinth had reduced her habit of making instant biting remarks whenever the other girl bemoaned some trivial inconvenience.
Determined to befriend each and every one of her dorm mates Vetta timidly reached out to the girl with spectacles in order to get to know her a little better also. Anthera Malabona was from a hilly village in Meditia, a land dominated by a great central lake where most folk plied their trade upon its waters. Vetta marvelled at tales of mermaids and harbour cats, yet it was the mountainous region that surrounded the inland sea from which Anthera came. Her family had made their fortune by mineral wealth, mining being the backbone of their success.
'Frangea was renowned for its mineral wealth too,' she said, blinking hugely behind her formidable eyeglasses which she had also explained were made of special rare crystal that enhanced vision rather than simply corrected it. 'Mount Syzywyg is riddled with old mine shafts. That's why the amble walks are so clearly marked. Wouldn't want to tumble down a pit and never be seen again,' she chuckled.
'That would be very unpleasant,' Vetta agreed. They were chatting merrily in the Squeaky Tomato, which had become a favourite lunch spot among the Wonder girls, but they were not the only ones from Miss Plazenby's there at the moment as the familiar blue and yellow striped tie was much in evidence with second and third year girls enjoying the relaxed atmosphere of the place.
'Look, boys!' Anthera breathed as a group of smart looking lads entered the main eating area. 'Don't look,' the girl then said, confusing Vetta no end as she craned her neck to see who had entered. 'They're Chancefleet boys,' Anthera explained, chewing on a chip.
'From the school on the other side of Mount Syzywyg?'
'That's the one.'
Chancefleet, the Most Prestigious Academy for Young Gentlemen, was like a rival academy in every way, not just because it was a boys' school. Its elite status and educational excellence was a direct challenge to Miss Plazenby's curriculum and its location, effectively as an immediate neighbour, meant the grounds touched along certain well-contested boundary lines amid the forests. Mount Syzywyg became something of a battlefield during recreation periods and there were disputed areas much contested with a ferocity between the pupils that would alarm the mistresses were they to witness it. Though in some it might engender a sense of pride at such dedicated loyalty.
The boys commandeered a table near where the first years sat and made their orders. As they were close enough for the two girls to hear what was being said, Vetta could not help listening to some odd stories of school life in a young gentlemen's academy. There were references to fizzy pop cannons and wayward footballs with minds of their own and a mysterious tale of a night time ghost seen flying over the foothills of Mount Syzywyg which brought laughter to the fore, as if some present among the boys knew more than they were telling of the incident. Then suddenly the conversation changed to other matters and Vetta thrilled at mention of the Blue Hair Clan. This made her linger long after her slurpy drink was finished and she gurgled her straw noisily while trying to listen and not listen.
'Weren't they here a few years back?' a younger boy said, 'causing trouble.'
'That's the way of these renegades from polite society,' an older boy responded with suavity in his voice. He glanced over at Vetta's table and the gurgling noise which had stopped at mention of the Blue Hair Clan began again as she felt a need to be otherwise occupied. 'They're always up to something as they do their rounds of Frangea. Probably long gone by now. Authorities keep moving them on of course but it's a pointless task as they never settle.'
'Why not?'
'Don't know. Restless folk are restless and that's the way of them. Some say they kidnap children, dye their hair blue and bring them up in their wandering ways. Would you like to have blue hair?' There was a general cackle of good humour at this.
Vetta meanwhile had abandoned her empty drink cup and was debating with herself whether she might go over to these boys and ask them about the Blue Hair Clan for they seemed very knowing on the subject. She even went so far as to stand and take several steps towards their table as they tucked into lunch. She got so close one or two noticed her hesitant approach, but Anthera grabbed her hand and pulled her away.
'Come on Vetta, can't keep biology waiting,' she said in an urgent whisper loud enough to be heard by the boys who all laughed loudly.
The girls fled the Squeaky Tomato then and made their way briskly back to school to begin afternoon lessons but Vetta was bursting with questions during the tram journey.
'Did you hear what that boy said? The Blue Hair Clan are gone.'
'So? What's that to do with us?' Anthera reasonably replied. 'It's forbidden to speak to boys,' she added censoriously as they entered a classroom so that Vetta had to keep silent. Forbidden things were so for a reason, she mused with stoic acceptance.
