To some a weekend break from lessons hung heavy if they had not made plans. While Vetta Mindal quietly sorted out socks so they matched and Meresinth flicked tiny balls of paper into the girl's fluffy blonde hair so that it looked like she had passed through a snow blizzard, Anthera found herself at a loss.

She had counted the trees from the window, fed some Wobbly Pigeons with a failed essay and marked her height on the wall near her bed, noting in alarm she was shorter than when she arrived. The excitement of a new life in a new school had clearly stiffened her spine on that first day. The slouch of disappointment shaved an inch off her stature and the weight of expectation was threatening to deny her another half inch.

"Bored!"

This shout came from Dolly Bloomen, a tanned blonde girl full of energy. She seemed the very essence of the great outdoors. Fresh air followed her in a cloud, clung to her garments and her bright blue eyes seemed to shine with summer skies.

Pirouette appeared from the bathroom that adjoined the dorm and gave the energetic girl one of her looks that said, I have assessed your appearance and found fault.

"My dear girl," she noted acidly. "The boredom that is you is tiring to the eyes. Shall we amble down slope and see if Cherryball Flats holds a solution to such visual blandness?" It was a roundabout invite for a shopping trip.

"Need a new purse," Dolly grumbled, grabbing a soft hat as a signal she was in agreement.

"Anthera," came the languid posh voice as Pirouette noticed her lying idle upon her bed. She had passed over Meresinth with a shudder, lingered with a puzzled expression at the snowy hair of Vetta, before fixing her attention on the Meditia girl. "The thing about shopping is a deficiency of arms. Care to join us or is the dent you are making in that mattress one of your life's goals?"

"It was, but I've time still to work on it," came the rejoinder. Without really thinking who was the company, Anthera decided an amble in one direction was as good as another so she too grabbed a sun hat and joined her dorm mates, but not before catching Vetta in a sneeze that brought a sudden snowfall upon her neatly arranged socks and a gulp of surprise at the unexpected phenomenon. She could not decide whether Meresinth's cackle was kindly or not before an impatient hoot from the breezy Nordeyer girl brought her to the head of the stairs.

"I suggest a vigorous run to Valunia Boulevard, a sweep around Mapenza Highstep Circle at a jog followed by a power walk along the Avenue of a Thousand Kaachings," she suggested brightly.

"Not in these shoes," came Pirouette's dismissive reply. Thus they ambled and the only exercise was the running commentary of the girl's withering appraisal of all they could see around them. Anthera remained silent, her remarkable gaze noting tiny details the others missed in their chatter. She watched two colourful beetles fight for ownership of a crack upon the bark of a tree, a very large man with a tiny dog sauntering along a distant street down below the heights of Mount Syzywyg, and counted the flags on a ship passing grandly through Blossom Bay on the horizon.

"Here we are," Pirouette said for the third time, the trio having already sampled wares in several shops along the sunny boulevard crowded with weekend shoppers, buskers and a peculiar species of Frangea wildlife, the pop-up salesman offering a wide range of goods from parcels of lands for development to used teeth, one careful owner.

Anthera had purchased nothing thus far, merely glad to watch the others try on garments, toss them aside in disgust and then retrieve them for a reconsideration. Thankfully they were not interested in purchasing cannon balls or pig iron so the bags digging into her arms were not too heavy.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

"Ooh," came a sigh from Dolly Bloomen as she approached a rack of glittery purses. "I need one of these, and two of those and three of something else." Such words brought a shop assistant so rapidly forward to help she was on her knees in a tumble.

"Now that's service," Pirouette nodded, as Anthera in spite of her bundles, helped the clumsy girl up.

"So sorry," she said, straightening her uniform. "Miss is interested in these designer mouches?" and she indicated the purse rack, now half empty for Dolly had scooped an armful and was upon the floor herself sorting through them.

"Designer mouches?" Anthera said with a stifled laugh. The assistant seemed a little confused at the question and merely indicated the purses with a gesture. These things here, her eyes seemed to say of their own volition when her tongue refused to give explanation. It was a selling technique drilled into the girl at Crush Their Credit sales college no doubt. Confusion elicits purchases where precision hesitates to spend, her tutor was saying at the back of her mind.

"Look at this one," Dolly crowed, holding up a soft baggy thing with a finger loop handle, a lip fastener that looked like it might break at the first slightly forced opening, and an encrusted body that spelt extravagance in glittery facets. The shop knew its business for out of nowhere a spotlight zeroed in on the item in Dolly's hand and it fairly exploded with must have radiance. The girl's eyes melted in submission and drool began forming on a quivering mouth.

All the while this was happening a similar melting gaze took possession of Pirouette's eyes as she stared, and even the assistant seemed mesmerised. Anthera was perhaps protected from the baleful influence of the designer mouche by her thick spectacle lenses reflecting some of the glory away and reducing the remainder as it travelled along the optic nerve to that part of the brain which screamed purchase meeee!

Thus she was able to predict what was about to happen while watching from a safe distance.

"Mine!" Pirouette shrieked, lunging forward. This galvanised Dolly into a protective stance.

"Mine first!" she bellowed a defensive challenge.

"It's expensive!" cried the assistant, also leaping into the fray, suggesting by her words she wished to protect the item, though her eyes were saying I want it too but can't afford it.

There was a three way struggle with the soft sparkly thing at its centre and a series of strange squeaky noises as one competitor thought they had the upper hand only to be drawn back by the combined efforts of the other two. If it had been only Dolly versus Pirouette the Nordeyer girl would have conquered easily, but the added component of a third force shifted the balance of power and neutralised all efforts at outright victory.

Anthera made mental notes upon the laws of physics as she witnessed this titanic struggle, pondering vectors and shear forces while a crowd gathered to support one or the other of the girls with chants and songs and cheers.

Sometimes there are wars fought, perhaps more often than not, where there are no winners, only losers all round. A designer mouche, no matter how well designed, was never meant to endure such three way stress. One could not imagine the makers of said purse undertaking trials in their factory, simulating insane shoppers fighting to the death over their product, except in really weird dreams perhaps. Thus they would not have made allowances for what happened next.

The lip fastener pinged. The stitching unravelled. The glittery stones so carefully sewn onto the silky fabric shot off in every direction and the designer mouche exploded into three unequal pieces, giving unwelcome bragging rights to the shop assistant who happened to come away with the lion's share of a very expensive item.

A moan from Dolly was shared by her support group. Pirouette's fan base sighed as the girl raged at her failure, and only the shop assistant received a modicum of applause before being hustled away by the floor manager to a back office for possible execution.

Anthera meanwhile had dropped her purchase burden as she ducked the missiles that came her way, missiles that the crowd were quickly gathering up for each scattered gem was worth a bit all by itself. Even the security detail could not help pocketing a few while rapping the knuckles of shoppers eager for a windfall. One of the sparkly bullets had caught in Anthera's hair after stinging her ear and she looked at it.

"A seedopal," she said, her microscopic gaze registering every detail upon the polished surface. She noted the colour, pattern and translucency of the stone and childhood memories came back to her at a rush. "This is just trash," she added, puzzled.

"It's a valuable gem miss," a security guard insisted, fat hand waving at her to hand it over or be done for pilfering. She smirked, relinquished the item and then began to laugh until tears rolled down her cheeks.