HER HAIR WAS golden like sunshine and her demeanour unmistakable. She was a Perfectine from the second year called Zephany Ildorim and her reputation for style had quickly reached legendary proportions.
Acceptance from Those Who Know was an important precept among younger girls from the land of Perfecta and for all her brash self-confidence, Pirouette Wrangely hungered for a positive appraisal from someone so respected in the higher echelons of Important People.
Thus the necklace she snaffled so gleefully from under the noses of benighted Woebegoners in Help Street she wore in the corridors of Miss Plazenby's at key moments of the day. Whenever Zephany was due to transit from one classroom to another or to some other location there was Pirouette, her wavy brown hair tied up in coloured ribbons and draped over her white blouse a cascade of precious gems tangled with her regulation school tie.
'It is really pretty,' Vetta said on catching sight of the sparkly thing on one occasion. Anthera could be heard to snort at a distance and Meresinth sniggered tunefully as was her wont.
'Ignore the barbarians,' Pirouette said with a sniff of her own. 'Yes it is pretty.' Then she pushed Vetta out of the way carefully for a melodious tinkling could be heard in a doorway.
Golden light entered the corridor, vying with the Frangean sun, and the tall, stately figure of Zephany Ildorim, the Golden Girl, appeared surrounded as usual by her admirers.
Pirouette struck up a pose that showcased the necklace and laughed in Vetta's face rather oddly. Vetta smiled at this, not understanding the attention-seeking techniques of Perfecta, nor how effective they could be.
The tinkling sound got closer.
'Well, this is a curious display,' came a soft voice in Pirouette's ear and the first year turned to face Zephany.
'Oh, just a little thing I threw on this morning, you know, to brighten up this dour costume and the world generally,' Pirouette yawned. Vetta blushed to hear such nonsense and Zephany glanced at her and smiled, which made the Poldorama girl blush even more.
This golden-haired creature really was quite beautiful in a garish way, Vetta admitted silently, but somehow there was something missing. It was possible though to catch a glimpse within her eyes of a deeper sense of significance which was at variance with her display of extravagance. More perplexing complexity to absorb, Vetta mused in gentle dismay.
The unsettling girl reached out and fingered the necklace and it was as if Pirouette actually shuddered at the gesture.
'There is something off here,' Zephany said.
'First years,' one of her colleagues suggested with a smirk. She was silenced by a gesture.
'No. These diamond clusters lack purity. That ruby is washed out and those firestars are devoid of spark.' She looked at Pirouette, whose eyes had grown wider at these disparaging observations. 'Where did you get this costumery stuff. It's pretty but unseemly in such company. That pearl at the centrepiece has never seen water in its entire existence.'
'W-w-ater?' Pirouette mumbled. 'It's not a Gloriosan Lustre?'
'Certainly not,' Zephany replied calmly. 'The cube shape should have been a clue. Though that's a fun idea, Perfectines do not shine for fun.' With that final comment the Golden Girl drifted off, taking her glory and supporters with her.
Pirouette took off the necklace brusquely and glared at it.
'It's still very pretty,' Vetta said quietly, having been a witness to this puzzling exchange.
'Then you can have it,' and the girl tossed the sparkly gems over the bright curls of the other and marched off.
'But I do not desire jewellery,' Vetta protested vainly but without vanity. Pirouette had gone by this time. 'I know, I'll give it to a charity shop.'
With that she placed it carefully in her shoulder bag, checked her timetable and found an outdoor adventure awaiting her for the next school period.