They went to sit on the back steps of Alma’s house. Alma felt breathless and strange, but it wasn’t, for once, a bad feeling.
“I found the book outside of the Fifth Point,” Hugo told her.
“Outside of it?” Alma asked.
Hugo nodded. “Propped up against one of the doors. I thought—” He pulled one of his yellow gloves off, then the other. “In ordinary circumstances, I would never commit a crime. But it was—I was curious. I’m going to return it.”
Alma hadn’t known Hugo for very long, but it was obvious that taking the book had been a big deal for him. She wondered if he had felt about the book the way she had felt about the quintescope—like it was there for him.
“I got the telescope from the shop too,” she said. “Well, the ShopKeeper actually called it a quintescope.”
“There’s a ShopKeeper?” Hugo asked. “I wasn’t aware that the Fifth Point was occupied.”
“I wasn’t either,” Alma replied. “But one of the doors was open, and he was in there. He’s very—well, strange. He told me to save the Starling, and I think that must be the star-girl I saw. I think maybe—maybe that’s why he gave me the quintescope? So I would see her fall. So I would help her.”
“I remain highly skeptical,” Hugo said, tucking his gloves into his pockets, “but the book would agree with you.”
He set the book on the steps between them. It wasn’t much of a book really, more like a pamphlet, with a cracked, red-brown, leathery cover. It was clearly very old, and engraved in gold across its front was the title: Quintessence: An Elemental Primer for Star Restoration.
Alma gasped as she read the words. “Star Restoration! So this is about—”
“It’s about sending a star back to space,” Hugo said, “in the most unscientific way possible.”
Alma opened the book. The pages within reminded her of the map in her parents’ office—brown, faded, crinkly—with handwritten words in such fancy script that some of the letters were hard to decipher. On the first page, she read:
High above, high above, the sky is filled
with the never-ending brightness of the Stars.
Oh, how great and glorious and full of mystery they are!
But you, dear soul, did you know that you are made of the
same stuff as the Stars?
And did you know that you can be filled with that same Light,
filled with Quintessence?
Read on and you will learn these truths and far, far more.
“It’s just like the flyer,” Alma breathed. “‘You are made of elements and quintessence.’”
Hugo turned the page but didn’t answer.
On the next page, there was an illustration of a four-pointed star. In each point, there was a symbol—an upside-down triangle with a line through it at the top, a right-side-up triangle with a line through it on the right, a right-side-up triangle at the bottom, and an upside-down triangle on the left. And in the center of the star there was a circle with lines extending from it, like light rays. Alma read on:
It is common knowledge that there are four elements:
Earth, Wind, Fire, and Water.
But I tell you a new thing:
There is a Fifth Element, unseen by the natural eye.
This Element is the Great Light of the Stars.
It dwells within each Elemental, a spark that must be grown,
and it can be created when the four Elements
in their truest forms are connected.
This Fifth Element is called Quintessence.
Alma felt these words at her core, in the center of herself, where her Alma-ness had been sparking and sputtering for the past two days. More than ever, quintessence sounded like Alma-ness.
The next illustration was of a four-pointed star falling from the sky. Waiting on the ground for the star were four human shapes. At the center of each was a circle containing one of the symbols from the page before, which Alma realized must represent the four elements. She read:
This Universe is marvelous, this Universe is magnificent,
And this Universe is in a state of perpetual change.
At times, imbalances and shifting forces and sudden endings
will shake loose a Star from its place in the firmament.
That Star, my dear soul, will fall.
And in that terrible fall, the Star’s Quintessence will be depleted.
But take heart!
The fallen are drawn to worlds
where true Elements can be gathered.
With the assistance of Elementals,
these Elements can be connected,
Quintessence can be created,
And the Star can be restored to its home in the Universe.
“So the elementals are us?” Alma asked, studying the four human shapes. “People, I mean? And the fallen stars need—need our help?”
“As best I can gather,” Hugo replied.
Alma turned the page, eager to learn more, and there was the Starling illustration. The image showed a slight body, a large head, and enormous black-hole eyes. The figure had its thin arms and legs outstretched, and it was surrounded by the lines that radiated out. In the center of its torso, there was a circle with its own ray lines. Beneath the picture were these words:
For a very young Star—a Starling, that is—a fall often results
in catastrophic Quintessence loss.
Thus, the Elementals must act swiftly and boldly.
A fallen Starling is a Starling in mortal peril.
Alma felt her heart not just sink but plummet into her stomach.
“‘Mortal peril,’” she whispered. “But what do we do?”
Hugo reached over again and flipped through the pages. Alma watched as entries on Earth, Wind, Fire, and Water passed. And then, on the very last page, next to an illustration of a brilliant star now shining high above the four human shapes, were these words:
Now you know these secrets, dear souls.
Now you know how we are all connected to one another,
how we all need one another.
And be you an Elemental of Water or Wind, of Earth or Fire,
your quest is before you.
Find the Elements.
Grow the Light.
Save the Stars.