Goddess of Gotham by Amanda Lees Page A

highest in the periodic table: calcium, magnesium, sodium or copper?’
    ‘Can I go fifty-fifty?’
    Ms Martin’s voice cracked in exasperation.
    ‘This is not a game show, Kumari.’
    Oops. Looked like she’d stressed another teacher out. In Ms Martin’s cheeks, the colour was rising. Still, she smiled, in a kind of steely way, her white teeth flashing a warning.
Too late, Kumari remembered CeeCee and LeeLee’s words of advice.
    ‘I think someone else should have a turn,’ said Ms Martin in a tone that brooked no argument.
    Except no one wanted to; they were all far too busy gawping.
    ‘You are the weakest link!’ someone shouted out to guffaws.
    An eraser hit Kumari square on the forehead. Mercifully at that moment the bell went and everyone immediately leapt up from their desks. Caught up in the surge towards the door, Kumari suffered
a couple of sneaky kicks.
    ‘Why don’t you shut up, smart-ass?’ sneered one large boy.
    ‘Yeah, cut it out,’ snarled another.
    I’ve screwed up already, Kumari thought miserably, following the crowd to the next classroom and the next. By now she had learned her lesson. She sat silent, staring at nothing. At
lunchtime she tagged along to the cafeteria, walking a careful distance from her classmates. A couple of girls looked back in sympathy but Kumari was too busy pretending that she knew what she was
doing to notice.
    A line stretched across the cafeteria from a counter on which food was piled high. Here and there it broke as kids bunched up or shoved one another around. Forcing her chin up, Kumari strode to
the front, doing her best to appear confident. She could see people in white hats working behind the scenes. Those must be the chefs. Great, this was just like in the palace. OK, so the service was
a little slacker. Still, nothing she could not handle. Kumari smiled at the woman behind the counter.
    ‘And what has cook produced today?’ she enquired of the bored server.
    The server chewed resolutely on her gum, shrugged and said nothing.
    ‘Hey!’
    ‘Hey, you there, you’re pushing in!’
    ‘That’s her, isn’t it, the new kid?’
    A crescendo began to build behind Kumari, a chorus of angry cries and hissing.
    Somehow she’d got it wrong again. Best to grab a burger and back off.
    The server sprang to life. ‘Hey, you gotta pay for that!’
    Money. She had money. Ma had made her put it somewhere safe. Except that it was no longer there, carefully tucked in her pocket. Which meant she must have dropped it. Or, worse, someone had
stolen it. This was not going to plan. OK, dump the burger and make a run for it. But which way to go? The other kids were beginning to crowd in. And then she saw it. Gleaming, beckoning from
across the room. A glorious, great big machine thing, its buttons shining with promise, emblazoned across it the word, Cola. There was nothing Kumari loved more. Forget about running. This
was far too important. She’d just grab a can and go. Nothing too difficult about that.
    She could hear them still muttering in her wake, but Kumari did not care. Somewhere in this machine there must be cans of the precious nectar. All she had to do was get one out. Experimentally,
she pressed a few buttons. Nothing. She pressed some more. Two, three, then all of them. They continued to flash alluringly. She poked a finger into every opening, peered up the slots, searching.
Her throat rasped with thirst. It had been hours since she had drunk anything. She needed one. Now.
    The shiny machine must be broken. She would just help it out a little. Give it a shake. No. OK, time for the direct approach. Raising a leg, Kumari kicked hard. Karali, now that was something
she knew about. The ancient martial art had never let her down. This time was no exception. A stream of cans rattled forth, bouncing and rolling across the hard cafeteria floor. Jubilant, Kumari
picked one up, popped the tab and drank, smacking her lips.
    A few more cans rolled out, dislodged