Fairies and Felicitations (Scholars and Sorcery) by Eleanor Beresford

one
    G AMES OF A LL K INDS

    I’VE ALWAYS THOUGHT of myself as middling. Middling looks, middling position in the form, middling magical Gift, a solid but not spectacular athlete, domestic background of the cook and two maids type, and just a middling kind of curve to the tip of my ears.
    However, at some point in my forgotten past, I must have done something of more than middling wickedness to deserve a friend like Lady Emmeline Eversleigh, commonly known as Kitty.
    Kitty is not middling anything. Kitty is, I suspect, an imp changeling in human form.

    By some miracle, she’s standing completely free of any defence when I’m looking to pass. Of course, it might not be a miracle so much as that the girls from West House don’t see the point of defending against Kitty in an inter-House practice match. This realisation belatedly visits itself upon me when Kitty gazes at the hockey ball with a kind of dreamy interest, utterly failing to try to connect her stick with it in any way. Patty hares up and away with it without any need to tackle for possession, and I catch reproachful looks from all around, as if it was my fault.
    Kitty is actually shameless enough to raise her delicate eyebrows in astonishment when Cecily, the Games Captain, calls her over for a chewing out after practice.
    “You unmitigated little donkey! What do you think you’re on the field for, decoration?” Cecily’s accent always becomes more pronouncedly Colonial when she’s in a temper.
    “You have to admit I do improve the general appearance of the team,” Kitty says modestly. Even though I hate to admit it, she’s right. The dark green gym slip brings out the green in her own eyes, and looks awfully nice against those fluffy ginger curls.
    “You vain little peacock! If you don’t have any character and grit to back up those precious looks of yours, you’ll find they get you nowhere. Buck up your game, kid, or I’ll find better uses for your talents.”
    Personally, I think Kitty got off pretty easily. We take games seriously at Fernleigh Manor, even practice matches, and it’s a shame to let School House down. Kitty seems to feel differently. She has her face set in a petulant frown as she watches Cecily stroll off in the direction of her own particular friends. If her appearance wasn’t so soft and elfish, you’d think she looked ferocious. As it is, she looks like an annoyed tiger cub.
    “Kid!” Kitty grinds the toe of her shoe in the mud. “She’s only a form above us! What right does she have to boss us around? I don’t know what a Fifth former is doing as Games Captain in any case.”
    “You know the Sixth is a washout when it comes to games this year.” I punch her consolingly on the arm.  
    “If it absolutely had to be a Fifth former, couldn’t it be Corona? You have to admit Corona’s a sport, Anne.”
    “By which you mean she lets you get away with murder. Cecily’s all right,” I add, in the off hand tone that is necessary when a member of the Upper Fourth expresses admiration for an older girl. “Not a bad Captain at all.”
    Kitty ignores me, still glaring after Cecily. “Looks get you nowhere! That’s rich, seeing she spends her time draped over the arm of the best looking girl in the form.”
    I follow her gaze. Cecily is smiling at Esther Carmody. I cannot in justice argue with Kitty’s opinion of Esther. She is, in all truth, absolutely lovely. That bronze-brown hair, the faint gold to her skin, those long dark eyes… I turn quickly away as the girls start to head in toward the school. I’m not a first former, to hero worship a girl in the Fifth.
    “I’m sure it’s not because of Esther’s looks that they’re such great friends,” I say, a bit belatedly. I look away, to cover my distraction.
    “It’s not as if they actually have anything in common. Cecily is the worst of the goody-goodies, and Esther spent half of last year in detention.”
    “Esther’s quite keen on games. She’s simply