"A WALK!" VETTA suddenly said, making most of the girls in the Wonder dorm jump.

"Oh, one of those," Pirouette replied, not looking up from a very thick magazine she was working through as she sat upon her bed. She had printed it off in instalments and got it bound up in the school library. Now she appeared to be pulling it to pieces again as she selected certain pages to keep and others to discard.

"You are going on one of those walks of yours, by yourself," Esper said, turning her purple eyes upon the girl as she sought a suitable hat and scarf.

"Yes." Vetta paused and looked a little alarmed at what felt vaguely like an accusation. Esper smiled.

"I feel all will be well with your walk," she said, smiling placidly. "A good one."

Vetta smiled back, now vaguely feeling she was conspiring with another in the spreading of joy.

"A good riddance," Pirouette added. "Ooh, I like that button fastener," and the Perfectine tore out another page from the catalogue for reference.

Vetta did not hear either comment for she was out of the door and in the corridor at a rush, lest her courage fail her in the late afternoon glow. She was on a mission and had to be sure all was right.

An unclaimed coin was in her pocket and she sighed with relief. Thus she made her way down numerous carpeted steps, almost getting dizzy as usual with the repetitive nature of the descent until she arrived at the entrance hall where one of the great wooden doors remained partially ajar to allow discreet entries and exits for several hours yet before the evening meal which was effectively supper.

A third year she did not know entered just as she approached the door, blocking her path briefly, and she jumped back.

"I beg your pardon," she said and let the taller girl through. In response the other paused, sized Vetta up, who shrank a little under this unexpected scrutiny, and then she grabbed Vetta's hat. In a moment she had replaced it again.

"You had it on the wrong way around," she explained with a smile. "Badge in front."

"Oh my gosh. Thank you ever so much!" Vetta said in relief.

"Please do not gush. It was nothing," the third year replied and walked on into the hallway. Vetta sighed again. She reminded herself that gratefulness must be measured in the land of Frangea. There were still so many little things like this to learn. She felt it would take a lifetime.

Once on the gravel path she indulged in a rare personal pleasure, so high were her spirits now she was almost a free agent. She crunched extravagantly upon the gravel path in a meandering way, savouring the pleasant sound and strange feeling underfoot.

"Who's making all that scrunching noise?" someone said from an open window and this effectively ended her selfish indulgence. At a sprint she made it to the main gate where a quiet evening greeting awaited her from the duty gatekeeper.

"Have a pleasant time, miss," the man said, touching a finger to his hat.

"I hope I will," she said happily. "If I am not back in two hours..." She paused, wondering what to say next.

"Then you'll be late for supper miss," the man supplied an answer.

"Yes. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

With that she wandered down the curved pathway and out of sight.

"A curious little body, that one," the man said to himself as the small figure receded into the distance. "She'll do good in this world if I'm not mistaken, and the world lasts out the year."

***

THE SKY WAS very bright still though the hour quite late for a Frangean afternoon melted imperceptibly into a Frangean evening and then hung around way past closing time.

To Vetta this was a source of relief for the scary shadows that followed her down the mountain path to the first tramstop on the outskirts of Cherryball Flats were a great deal less menacing when their looming dark silhouettes still contained detail within. The stop was brightly lit even in the daytime and green lights told her a tram was about to depart down the track and round the beach front to where she wished to go. It was like riding a canal scurry, only at an angle and without the shudder of bow waves bouncing off the sides. Instead there was a whispering as trees brushed the canopy above her head and the electric cable buzzed pleasantly like a bumble bee feasting on clover nectar.

In no time at all the surf boomed in her ears, the lights changed to red and she was deposited on the coral platform that was the first coast station of Blossom Bay.

"Thank you," she said to the driver, who muttered something, not used to being noticed except regarding fares, though Plazenby girls had infinite ride season cards for each academic year so no payment was required. Luckily her hat had the badge facing front to guarantee she would not be charged. Thus she clutched the coin in her pocket even harder to assure herself all was well.

The steps to the beach were lit by colourful fairy lights dangling from an overhead cable and they danced in the sea breeze most pleasantly. Vetta's descent was interrupted frequently as she gaped at the shadows formed by the magical lights for each moving shadow was of a different colour and they shifted and overlapped and created a kaleidoscope of effects on what were otherwise featureless concrete steps.

"How pretty," she said and then tripped on the last step which had changed from sea green to soft crimson pink in an impossible way so that she landed in soft sand face down.

Her coin was free and in a moment she was up and pursuing it down the slope towards the hungry surf. It picked up speed when bouncing off a shell with a metallic ping that echoed across the sand, catching experienced ears by a telltale note. Be sharp, it said.

Before Vetta could reach it a great boot stopped its progress.

"Oh thank you kind sir," Vetta said with a gasp and looked up at the dark towering figure backlit by an orange sky. The outline seemed fringed by a filigree of seaweed and ragged hair. Without a word the man bent down, picked up the coin and rubbed it on a damp sleeve to a bright polish.

"Think nothing of it," he said, pocketing the coin artlessly. Vetta blinked but said nothing.

"By the Faceless, it's her," a croaky voice floated over the booming surf and another figure swayed into view just beyond the glistening wetness of sea-smoothed sand. "That there girl from the other day, the one who blinked a lot and stared."

Vetta looked at this new arrival. She blinked and stared.

"I remember you," she said, smiling. In the strange light there was a glow upon the woman, like as if starlight poured from one of her eyes. A glassy eye.

"That's me," the lady rasped. "What's a little thing like you doing down here all alone on such a cold and wet evening?"

Vetta looked around. It was warm and quite dry with barely a wisp of cloud in the sunset sky so she said nothing to that. Instead she launched into her heartfelt speech.

"It was those birch rods," she said, looking around to see if beach wardens were near, "and the way you wailed and cried and ran. It seemed such a shame and I never got a chance to give you a coin."

"Yes, well," the man grumbled, his back rolling a bit in memory of the birch rods. None had ever touched him of course. The whole thing was put on for the tourists, but this girl need not know that.

"And so you've come now, bless you, to give your coin," the lady squawked a little breathlessly. There was a wheeziness about her voice which suggested a struggle to find enough air to expel into words.

"Yes, well," the man grumbled again, making another odd squirm that rustled the dried seaweed that clung to him like a second or even third skin, so thickly wrapped was he.

"Crackey, what you been doing?"

"Nothing," the man said.

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"Well then," and the lady's voice softened to a sibilant creaking sound as she turned the glittering glass orb towards the girl again. "So as not to you know, endanger ourselves with them birch rods, being still sore and all, what say we amble over to them rocks over there and sort out this little gift you've taken the trouble to come all the way down from that high place to bring to us struggling folk."

Vetta looked again at the man. The decrease of light made his features recede into shadow so that he more resembled an animated tower of darkness now than one of the struggling folk.

"This way my dear."

Glasseye led the Wonder girl along the sand to strangely shaped masses of rock, boulders that had tumbled down from the cliffs at the south end of Blossom Bay a little away from the bright lights of Cherryball Flats. The music of bars receded too but the booming surf was even louder now.

"Sit yourself there and tell Mama Glasseye all about it," the lady said, indicating a cool slab of rock that faced the sea. Farther along pools of light seemed to nestle in pits in the sandstone and Vetta admired them briefly.

***

THERE WERE OTHER moving shadows here. What Vetta thought were rocks resolved into more combers who shuffled towards Glasseye and Crackey to find out why a morsel of privilege sat among them.

"Is she starting combing early?" one said with a cough and a sniff. "Turning her back on high society like?"

"Fancy a swig, dearie?" another said, reaching out a bony hand that clutched an amber vessel only slightly full of amber liquid.

"I'd rather not," Vetta said, recognising it for what it was.

"Pish, Smudge, she's a blessed child," Glasseye pointed out. "She'd need a glass to drink from not a bottle neck."

"Papa says alcohol can be a mixed blessing, like building a house half on firm foundations and half on swampy mud," Vetta observed as she continued to refuse the proferred drink.

"Well, your Pappy's a wise old codger," Glasseye agreed. "So, let's get down to business."

With a blush barely visible in the coloured light of a setting sun, Vetta looked around for the tall figure who had possessed himself of the coin.

"I only brought the one," she whimpered, fearing what else to say.

"And that's plenty enough."

There was a hacking cough just then and Crackey spat upon the sand near where the girl sat.

"Pish, Crackey. Ain't you no manners? Spitting like that right on the good, clean sand," Glasseye said.

"Where else then?" the man replied unabashed.

"Go spit in that pool instead."

"Cain't. Got a stinger in it. They's watching you all the time, just waiting for a chance to fry your brains. Been there all day it has."

Vetta heard this conversation with only a slight understanding of what was being said.

"Has some poor defenceless sea creature been trapped by the tide?" she asked. She had learned about tidal pools in a module on littoral fauna.

"Don't always take things littorally," the teacher Mr Bantlebury had said in an attempt to add humour to the lesson but was left high and dry by a lack of response from the first years in his class.

"Some poor defenceless creature," Smudge laughed. "Listen to the girl. Stingers ain't defenceless."

"It might die."

There was a sort of mumbling silence at this simple statement. Responses there were, some quite unsavoury, but somehow the presence of the girl restrained the gathered combers. Their restlessness affected Vetta also and she stood.

"Where is this pool?" she asked, looking around at the glittery shadows all on fire with sunset glow.

"The bluish one," someone said before there was a hiss to be silent.

Vetta did not wait for any more information. She plodded along on the damp sand to where she could see a kind of opalescent shimmer framed by a dark mass.

"Careful miss," Crackey warned as he hovered near, unsure what to do.

Vetta stopped by a rock which had its upper surface scooped out by the actions of water-borne sand particles over a thousand years or so and now was filled with a shallow pool of sea water. Within that liquid was something she could not quite make out. It seemed somehow part of the water and yet apart from it. There was a light persistence to the shape, a blob that pulsed hypnotically at the centre of strands of light and glistening coils.

"Why, it's beautiful," Vetta gasped as the thing shifted slightly at her approach. There was an uncanny sense that the thing could see her. It watched by suggestion rather than vision.

"Been there all day, miss," Crackey said. "Waiting for the end of the world no doubt."

Vetta stared some more, trying to make sense of the feeble little dance of light within its liquid substance. What might have been a tentacle flopped to one side, making brief ripples on the watery surface.

"It is suffering," she said, clutching herself tragically.

"As are we all, one way and another," someone said quietly.

"We must save it."

Vetta turned to the shadowy figures that swayed among the rocks and her expression somehow made some of the watchers take a few unsteady steps back.

"And how might we do that miss? Sea's quite a ways away yet. No high tide till morning." The combers knew the tides to the minute in this area. Especially considering they were very near Drowned Drifter's Gulf.

Vetta took off her hat, the one with the badge, and turned it upside down so it resembled a bowl made of straw.

Everyone stared at it, even those without a full set of eyes.

"Well," Glasseye said. "Seemed a nice idea."

Vetta said nothing but went down to the edge of the water and came back in a moment carrying a little bit of the Big Blue Sea with her. Then she stood by the pool, her hat slowly dripping, realising there was only so much time before the weave of the straw gave way.

Everyone still stood around watching, waiting and wondering.

"Please can you hold this?" she said to Crackey, who was the nearest. That stinger was an old acquaintance of his and he bore no sympathy for it.

"Well miss," he said, fidgeting in the shadows. He could feel that pulsating glow of nerve endings in the rock pool watching him. Then he moved, knowing what the girl was about to do.

Reaching out with trembling hands he quickly scooped up the jellyfish and tumbled it into the hat with only the slightest of grimaces. Then before it could reach out for Vetta, he took her hat and ran down the beach into the shadowed part of the water. There was a scream and a bluish light could be seen soaring into the surf where it turned green in the sea water.

The squelching sound of a tall figure approached and Crackey reappeared.

"Thank you," Vetta said to the man. "Your kindness has brought joy."

"Urk," he replied with a twitch. The coin in his pocket, attracting the charged venom from the jellyfish's tentacled stings, still felt hot, literally as if it were burning a hole in his pocket.

"Instead of just standing there like a lightning-struck tree," Glasseye said, "you could at least return the hat to the girl."

"Ee-ukk!" was the response and the man spread his hands wide. They were empty.

Vetta blinked as she processed this. Then she wandered down the beach to where the jellyfish had been returned to its life-saving medium, perhaps with half a hope of finding her Plazenby hat tumbling about in the surf. What she saw made her forget the matter.

In the waves were more than one light. Greenish balls of fire of varying intensity danced beneath the waves, a cluster of luminous life. It was as if the rescued jellyfish had been welcomed back by its friends and family. They lingered a little in the shallow water, clustered round the brightest which bobbed near to where Vetta stood, and then they all seemed to drift out to sea and fade in the dark blue depths.

"Goodbye," Vetta said softly and made a brief little wave of her own. "Swim safe and well."

Then she trotted back up the beach to where matters had progressed.

"Thank you for what you did," she said again to Crackey, who was leaning against a rock.

"No - ick - proberk, miss," he said, all of a tremble.

Then there was a flare of yellow light and a loud crackling sound. Someone had gathered drift wood and built a bonfire, a favourite occupation of beachcombers. Such activity meant light and warmth through the night and added a festive air to proceedings. Vetta noted this.

"What are you celebrating?" she asked Glasseye, who had resumed her seat. To Vetta it seemed the mood of the figures around her had lightened and everyone seemed less at ease.

"Another night in paradise vouchsafed us by the powers that be," came a croaked response.

"I hope there will be lots of them," Vetta said earnestly. "It seems a nice thing to look forward to when the sun goes down. Did you see that sunset? It was glorious, so full of colour and moving shadows."

"Shame really," Glasseye sighed.

"Oh, why?"

"Ain't many left I'm supposing."

"That is why it is important to enjoy them when they are happening." As she spoke Vetta watched the illuminated figures dance in a kind of slow and confused way around the fire. They were a curious looking bunch of straggling knots of rags and limbs and sticks gripped in gnarled fists that aided in the dance.

"Papa says each second is precious for there are only so many of them to go round," she added, squinting into the firelight and feeling the warmth.

"Well that's just so true," Glasseye said, her glassy orb afire with reflected flames. "Guess we should be grateful for the ones we've had and be appreciative of the ones to come, be they few or many."

"Yes," Vetta said, hugging herself in the half-light with pleasure at the thought. Then she stood. "I must return as it is getting late. I do not expect anyone will miss me, but it is best not to cause worry." Then she sat down again. "Oh!" Her hand went to her empty pocket, remembering.

Crackey approached, stiff-limbed, and held out his hand. In automatic response Vetta held out hers and felt a very warm coin land in her palm.

"Don't - eek - need - really," he spluttered. "Glad to - ukk - hold a bit, is - arrrgh - all."

"What he's trying to say miss," Glasseye translated, "is we don't need things like this really. We have all we need, truly. It's just that it was nice to possess such a thing for a while, considering where it came from, who it came from."

Vetta looked at the shambling tower of shadows as it twitched now and again in agreement.

"Don't worry miss, he'll be all right eventually. He and that there stinger what you released are old friends."

"I am Vetta Mindal, from the Blessed Hub of Poldorama," the girl suddenly felt obliged to say just then, putting the still warm coin in her pocket.

"Pleased to meet you Vetta Mindal of that place you mentioned," Glasseye replied with a bow of sorts from where she sat. "You go off now and learn things in the place up there. And while you're at it, teach some of 'em better manners."

Vetta had nothing to reply to this and so she bid farewell to the dancing combers, who were indeed determined to enjoy every second they had left in them. Thus she sought out a tram to take her back up to the mountain.

"Fare miss," the driver said in a tired kind of voice. Vetta touched her bright hair, remembering she did not have her hat. Then she remembered the coin and sighed.

What comes around goes around.