“In practical terms?” Charumati closed her eyes, and the starsong opened to Sheetal like a movie. As part of the ruling nakshatra, her mother would seek out the younger generations, the ones who remained curious, like Kaushal and Beena, even Padmini. She would select scouts from each of the nakshatras, speak to them of her own time on Earth, and remind them that stars were meant to walk unobstructed among mortals, inspiring them to greatness.
Those scouts would move from mortal nation to mortal nation, using their stardust, their silver flame, to awaken humans in positions of power and those around them. Those leaders would then begin to make changes that actually served the greater good.
After that, Charumati would lead her delegation back to Svargalok, where she would demonstrate the results of her plan and recruit the rest of the court to help enlighten the masses. Left without a good rationale for keeping the worlds separate, Nani and Nana would have no choice but to succumb.
And the mortal realm would unfold like a moonlight lotus, baring the jewel at its center.
Sheetal fell back, dazed. It sounded like a dream come true, but more than that, she could feel her mother’s conviction, her love, her need to gift Sheetal a world where she would be safe.
She wanted that, too.
“That, dikri,” her mother said drolly, “is the power of a star’s inspiration. To bring even my daughter to her knees.”
She picked up Sheetal’s bow and handed it to her. “For now, from the top. An instrument is nothing without its player, and we still have a competition to win.”
“Okay, boss,” Sheetal said, laughing.
Charumati responded with a single note as pure as wind kissing a crystal chime.
22
Wiped out but glowing, Sheetal slipped in the back entrance to the common room and made a beeline for the snack table. She crammed her mouth with nuts and sweets. Some training—no matter how much she ate, she burned right through it.
Charumati had run her through the song five more times, stopping every few seconds to critique her posture, her timing, even her emotion. “More melancholy, perhaps, and less desire to claw the cosmos to ribbons.”
Sheetal had sung until her throat ached. She’d strummed the dilruba until the bow grew slick with sweat.
Despite all that, she couldn’t shake the image of Ojasvini—her great-aunt—locked in the star hunter’s cage. Or the image of his wicked knife slicing into her skin. She couldn’t stop thinking of Nani showing up to bring her missing baby sister home and finding that.
Would it really be so bad to fill mortal hearts with light and make the world a better place? Didn’t humanity deserve that?
Didn’t Sheetal?
Doubt bloomed somewhere in the depths of her own heart, but she ignored it. It wasn’t like people were making good choices the way things were, or they wouldn’t be dealing with poverty and climate change and the threat of nuclear war.
Anyway, this was about her life. Her chance to have what she always should have had. Her family—all of it.
A valet stood at the crystal fountain this time. Sheetal made sure to smile as he handed her a cup of the skyberry cordial. He glanced away.
Um, okay, she thought, gulping down the drink.
Hands gripped her shoulders, making her spin around. Her drink splattered onto her sari. “What—?”
“Where have you been?” Minal almost shouted. “They think you stole Priyanka’s marionettes!”
Padmini started dabbing at the cerulean stain. Sheetal just frowned. “I didn’t steal anything.”
“Well, I know that. Let’s get out of here.” Minal nodded to the exit, but a commotion in the middle of the room stopped her.
“Too late,” Padmini whispered.
The other champions and their attendants had barged in, led by Priyanka, her spiky hair wild and her slitted eyes promising murder. “There she is!” When her escorts tried to shush her, she shrugged them off and stuck her face in Sheetal’s. “Give. Them. Back.”
Minal and Padmini moved to flank Sheetal on either side. “Leave her alone,” Minal warned.
Sheetal touched her arm. “It’s okay. I’ve got this.” The cordial coated her stomach, quieting her nerves. She turned back to Priyanka. “If you have something to say to me, come over here and say it. I don’t bite.”
Priyanka bore down on Sheetal until they were almost nose to nose. The ruby in her nostril glinted, a slowly fusing dwarf star. “You really thought we wouldn’t figure out it was you?”
“Are you sure someone took your puppets?” Sheetal asked, sipping her drink. “I mean, you were whacking things all night; maybe you broke them?”
“Excuse me, Ms. I’m a Star and Shouldn’t Even Be Here, but some of us have to practice.”
“Look, I’m sorry your puppets are missing, but I didn’t take them. Why do you think I did?”
Priyanka grimaced. “Witnesses saw you leaving my room.”
Luckily for Priyanka, Sheetal couldn’t shoot her flame from her eyes. “That’s a lie. I never went into your room. Ask Minal.”
“Can you be certain? Were you with her every second?” Sachin asked, and of course Minal couldn’t say yes. Sheetal glared at him, really wishing she had built-in starry lasers.
Jeet slunk up next to Priyanka. Dark shadows circled his eyes. He ran a hand through his mop of curly hair. “I gave you the benefit of the doubt,” he said, agitated, silver light zigzagging over him. It happened so fast, Sheetal almost missed it.
She exchanged a startled glance with Minal. What in the world?
Before she could say anything, Jeet resumed his tirade. “When everyone said it was a cheat for you to be here, I stood up for you. I said it wasn’t your fault who your parents are. But now you’re going around sabotaging people and trying to charm your way into my house?”
Even Leela seemed disturbed. Leela, the only other champion to be kind to Sheetal.
“Bhai, she didn’t do it.” Dev, who’d come up behind Jeet, pulled on his arm, trying to get his attention. “She’s not like that.” But Jeet didn’t even look at him.
“Charm my way into your house?” Sheetal echoed.
One of Jeet’s attendants held up a Ziploc with a few crumbs.
She laughed; she couldn’t help it. “You think because I felt bad for Urjit and gave him a snack, I’m trying to, what, turn him against you?” It was the stupidest thing she’d ever heard. “What’s wrong with all of you?”
“Sheetal,” Minal murmured. “Don’t let them get to you.”
“I’m sure you didn’t,” Priyanka said loudly. “Just like you didn’t steal my marionettes.”
“Jeet, Priyanka, both of you just chill,” Dev said. “You’re way overreacting.”
Sheetal mustered a calm she definitely didn’t feel. Her head still hurt like someone had run it through a food processor, and this was only making it worse. “Look, for the last time, I didn’t steal your stupid puppets, and it’s not like I chose to be here.”
“Really, Sheetal,” Sachin jumped in, “I thought we were all friends here.” He kept glancing at Jeet, then Priyanka, and back at Sheetal, like he couldn’t get enough of the drama.
She wanted to sock him. Her hands were only too happy to play along if she would just let them, so she kept her gaze on Priyanka instead. “I don’t have time for this. You all seem to think I’m out to take you down or whatever, but I don’t even know how any of this works, okay? Lay off already.”
Crap. Her core had kindled, and silver flame was sparking in her palms. She curled her hands into fists, but that wouldn’t control it for long.
Both Minal and Padmini watched in mute trepidation. They’d seen her hands, too. So had all the stars silently watching. Great, another thing for everyone to gossip about.
Sheetal broke out in yet another layer of sweat. This was ridiculous. She hadn’t even done anything.
“How about we all just calm down, maybe have a drink?” Dev suggested. He nudged Jeet, who’d bent ov
er. “Hey, man, you okay? You’re burning up.”
Jeet grunted. “Not feeling so hot.”
Sachin rushed to his side. “Let’s get you back to your room,” he said. Dev nodded, looking back once at Sheetal before helping Jeet upright. His dark eyes were sad as they traced her face.
Sheetal’s heart snagged on that look, so she didn’t notice Priyanka inching closer until Priyanka purposely bumped into her, knocking her against Padmini. “You better get my marionettes back to me while you still can, cheater.”
Smirks. Taunting. That nasty feeling of being on the outside and defenseless. Had Sheetal blundered back into high school?
She flared, her radiance blinding. Everyone flinched, even the other stars, and somebody yelped. It might have been Sachin; she couldn’t tell for sure. “I didn’t take your stupid marionettes!”
Even Priyanka stepped back, eyes wide, before she glared again. “Cheater,” she repeated. “What are you even doing here?”
Sheetal wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop the pinpricks of electricity crackling through her body. It felt like the flame at her core had hardened into lightning and was electrocuting her from the inside out.
She’d just made Priyanka’s point for her. Way to go, Sheetal.
Minal took hold of her wrist, breaking the current. Sheetal exhaled in relief. Thank the gods for Minal.
“That was rough,” Minal said, hurrying her out the back exit. “How’re you holding up?”
Sheetal wanted to tell her about Charumati, about her plan to stop Nani, about Rati’s offer. About how Dev had ignored her last night. The words got tangled in one another and clogged her throat. “Everything’s happening too fast,” she choked out. “I need to see my dad.”
Minal nodded and took her arm. “I’m coming with you. I’ll wait outside, but— Did you even sleep? You look exhausted.”
“Not really,” Sheetal admitted.
“I thought so.” Minal grimly pulled her along. “Sheetu, you can’t do this. If you don’t take care of yourself, of course you’re not going to be able to control your light. Promise me you’ll sleep tonight.”
Sheetal groped for an answer. How could she explain about the cosmic dance? Minal couldn’t understand. No one could.
A wave of homesickness washed over her. All she wanted was to sit with Dad again, even if the closest she could come was through a mirror, and remind herself of why she was doing any of this.
“I’ll try,” she agreed finally, because what else was there to say?
The Hall of Mirrors was blessedly empty, silent but for the silvery chimes of the starsong. Sheetal knelt before a flower-shaped looking glass and watched Dad’s gray-brown face among the briar patch of tubes, watched the rise and fall of his shallow breathing. Her own heartbeat responded, turning into a hum, a mantra of waking.
The air around the mirror glittered, and she hoped Dad could feel it.
Sheetal sang softly to her sleeping father. She told him everything about Svargalok, about her mother and Rati, about the competition, all the while wishing she could do more. Wishing she could go to him right now with the drop of blood in hand and rouse him.
Would he want her to take Rati’s offer?
She prayed he’d forgive her, because she couldn’t. Not now.
Sheetal didn’t know when it had happened, but the fire inside her had tempered all those taunts like a sword, turning them into steel. Minal had been right; she needed to show everyone what she could do. She needed to show herself.
No, she did know. The cosmic dance had woken something in her she didn’t want to deny anymore. She was half human, sure, but she was also half a star.
Tomorrow, she promised. Tomorrow, I’ll be home to save you. And then, because the shame of delaying sat like a boulder in her stomach, she added aloud, “I love you, Daddy.”
She checked her schedule to see what was next. Another practice session. Good. She needed all the preparation she could get. Only hours left before her birthday.
“Hello, mortal girl,” someone called from the doorway.
Sheetal glanced up to see Rati. Why hadn’t Minal stopped her from coming in? Her reflections swarmed the mirrors as she entered the chamber, an elegant star maiden clad in a blue-and-silver sari so vibrant it glowed to match the hair piled high on her head. “You should have taken my offer.”
“Considering you still haven’t given me a concrete reason to trust you, let’s call that a hard no.” Sheetal tried to push past, but Rati blocked the way.
“You may not believe it, but I have no wish to embroil you in something for which you share no blame.” She spoke with kindness, almost enough to make Sheetal believe she meant it. “Perhaps you would hear me out?”
Sheetal sighed and folded her arms. “How do you keep finding me, anyway? It’s like you’re stalking me.”
“If you persist in carelessly blasting your emotions to the entire court, can I truly be held responsible for responding?” Rati smiled and curled one of the starlight tendrils framing her face around her finger. “You may wish to consider more restraint in the future; you never know who might be listening.”
Cursing herself, Sheetal located her feelings in the starsong and yanked them loose. She made a special effort to find her embarrassment at Rati’s reprimand—how many times was she going to forget to shield herself?—and tear it out by the roots. “Look, I’m not leaving. This is my competition to win.”
“Take comfort, girl; no one has time for the trifling struggles of Charumati’s daughter.”
“So why do you?”
Rati reclined on a nearby divan, looking for all the cosmos as if she expected to be fed grapes and fanned. “It is my belief,” she said, enunciating each syllable, “that you lack the information you need to be able to determine your own actions. I wish to correct that oversight.”
Sheetal fiddled with her braid. The tip felt smooth, not ragged. When Padmini had dressed her earlier, she must have worked some kind of cosmetic magic to hide the split ends. “Can you at least hurry it up? I have things to do.”
“For most of our lives, your mother and I were inseparable. We knew each other’s hearts as only the truest of friends can.”
“So what happened?”
Rati took a moment to answer. “One of our most favored activities was watching you mortals. We would visit the Hall of Mirrors as often as we could, and together, we made secret plans to descend to your world after reaching majority.”
“Right . . .”
“Over time, we both found mortals we wished to meet, and so we selected a date and discussed how we would slip past the guards. Though the gate was open, no one could leave without their respective Esteemed Matriarch’s and Patriarch’s consent. My parents agreed, yet we knew Charumati’s never would, so we had to proceed with stealth.
“The fateful day came, and Charumati and I approached the guards. I was to divert them while Charumati sneaked off, and then I would follow.” Rati’s chuckle lacked any humor. “All plans shine bright in theory, but the execution is often muddier than anticipated. I did not lie well enough, it seemed, for the guards detained me. Your mother, however, ran past them and escaped.”
Reluctant compassion stirred in Sheetal as she listened. She and Minal would have done the same thing, but Minal would never have left her behind. “That sucks, but shouldn’t you be over it by now?”
“Foolish girl!” Rati rebuked her. “If it had ended there, yes. It did not. I had never seen your grandmother so riled. She could not punish Charumati, so she punished me, shaming me before my house, claiming I had corrupted her precious daughter and persuaded her to break the taboo of consorting with mortals.” Silvery flame limned her form, but the astral melody only tinkled and chimed.
“Even that I might have borne. Yet when your mother did not return, I was stripped of my rank as princess. Your grandmother pressed for it, and my parents knew of no other way to mollify her wrath. After all, I had sought to break the taboo.�
�
So that was why Rati didn’t wear a circlet. And now she had to watch Charumati remain princess of her nakshatra.
That was awful. In her place, Sheetal would probably want to make everyone pay, too.
But she wasn’t in Rati’s place, and she couldn’t afford to get involved. “I’m really sorry to hear that,” she said, “but as you yourself pointed out, it’s not my fault. So maybe leave me out of this petty revenge scheme?”
Rati’s expression went dark as the night sky without any stars. “Hear me well. I gave you the opportunity to leave. You chose not to take it, and now any culpability for what happens next lies with you. Do not be surprised if it is not to your taste, puppet thief.”
In a single motion, she stood and sashayed from the chamber.
By the time Sheetal made it to the hallway, Rati was gone. Instead, she found Minal and Padmini, with squares of plain black fabric over their laps and spools of colored floss neatly stacked on the low table before them.
“I’m pretty sure Rati just threatened me,” Sheetal told them, breathless. She recounted the conversation as fast as she could.
“Oh, Sheetu, I’m sorry,” Minal said. “I got distracted. I didn’t even notice her.”
Well, thought Sheetal, a little miffed, if you hadn’t disappeared yesterday at the library, you would’ve known to be wary of her.
But that wasn’t fair. Minal wasn’t her bodyguard.
Padmini began packing up the cache of supplies. “I am glad you did not accept her offer. Their enmity is old, and we need you here with us.”
Feeling contrite, Sheetal changed the subject. “What are you two doing, anyway?”
Minal held out a needle threaded with blue floss. “Padmini’s teaching me how to embroider! You know how much I love making things.”
Sheetal, who also knew how much Minal avoided anything that even slightly resembled sewing, raised her eyebrows.
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