At lunchtime the next day, Shirin stood indecisively in the aisle between tables. Her tray was tilting, Alma noticed, to one side. The tip of a piece of pizza dangled over the edge. She was about to call out to Shirin, to warn her, when Shirin straightened her tray and headed down the aisle.
Right to Alma and Hugo’s table.
“Okay, after last night,” she said, sitting down, “I feel like things are sort of different. Like, I thought the Starling was real before, but now I’ve seen her, you know what I mean?”
“Are you going to sit here?” Hugo asked.
“That’s what I’m doing, isn’t it?” Shirin said. She tugged a braid with one hand and picked up her pizza with the other. “No one will notice anyway. Plus, we’ve got things to discuss.”
“We do,” Alma said, smiling at her. “I’m glad you’re here. And I’m glad you both saw the Starling.”
“I can’t believe she’s real,” Hugo said, shaking his head in amazement.
“I can,” Shirin said. “It’s not like Alma would lie to us.” Alma felt her face turning hot, and she was relieved when Shirin continued, “So we know the Starling is in mortal peril, and we need earth and fire. What’s our plan?”
“We don’t have one,” Hugo replied. “I discussed the remaining elements with Mrs. Brisa this morning—very discreetly, of course. She made several purely hypothetical suggestions—utilizing a lightning rod to create fire or collecting volcanic rocks. But I remain highly skeptical that even these nearly impossible methods would produce true fire or earth.”
“You were highly skeptical about water and wind too,” Alma reminded him. Even though she hadn’t been able to get to the Starling last night, and even though she’d almost been caught by her parents, and even though she felt terrible about lying to them and to her friends, after seeing the Starling and getting the wind, Alma felt bright inside again. Even brighter because now Shirin was sitting with them, and they were making plans. Plans that would lead to the next element—her element, she was sure.
Hugo frowned at his turkey sandwich, then shrugged. “That,” he said, “is true. What do—what do you suggest, then?”
“Since we don’t have a fire container, we should focus on Earth,” Shirin said, taking a bite of her pizza. “What about a quarry? Are there any of those around here?”
Hugo shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Or caves,” Alma said. “What about caves?”
“What are you weirdos talking about?”
What could ruin Alma’s happiness? What could make the magic and the light vanish in an instant?
Of course it was Dustin. He stood behind them, glaring down. A paper-bag lunch was clutched in one hand, his backpack strap in the other.
“Oh my goodness.” Shirin sighed. “Go away. Right now.”
Dustin ignored her. “I heard you. You’re looking for caves,” he said, and Alma was alarmed to find that he was staring right at her.
Alma wanted to dive under the table. She wanted to burrow into the earth herself, dig her way through the linoleum and the concrete foundation and the layers of soil and limestone and bedrock and molten metal until she reached the core. Maybe that was where she’d find the element she was looking for. Far, far away from here.
When Alma didn’t answer, Dustin snorted in disgust. “That’s what she said, right?” he demanded, directing his words to Hugo now. “Well, what about the Deep Downs?”
“What are the Deep Downs?” Shirin asked. Then she shook her head. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. We’re not looking for caves. Bye-bye.”
“And even if we were,” Hugo said, “you’re not invited.” He spoke slowly and robotically, but loudly, firmly.
Dustin’s face started to redden the way it had at the lecture. “You think I want to be invited? You think I want to hang out with you freaks? I don’t!”
Alma didn’t know what would come next. She had a fleeting image of Dustin hitting Hugo or hitting her or hitting Shirin or maybe hitting all three of them, one after another, like that arcade game where you bopped moles with a padded mallet.
Instead, he stomped off.
Kids were staring at them. Shirin’s entire table of friends had turned around. Some were even standing up to get a better view, mouths gaping.
Then the whispering started.
Shirin pulled her tray of pizza to herself.
“For such a bully, he certainly is sensitive,” she said, deliberately keeping her gaze on the slice she picked up.
“At least he was useful,” Alma whispered. She took a long, shaky breath, trying to slow her pounding heart. “The Deep Downs. That sounds like a good place to start.”