“That’s why the competition is today, isn’t it? Before I turn full star, so you can still exploit me.” More tremors coursed through her, tremors the whole cosmos should be feeling.
How had the palace not fallen apart? How were the mirrors still whole instead of a billion jagged shards?
Charumati put her arms around Sheetal and began stroking the top of her head. “Dikri, would you have come if you had known?”
“No, of course not,” Sheetal blurted. The contact was so soothing she couldn’t help but soften. “I mean, I guess I would have had to at some point, right? Isn’t that why you said you had to leave?”
“Yes,” Charumati said simply. “We belong in the sky. Even our bodies know it.”
Kaushal spoke for the first time. “My father was a member of this house, and he strayed with a mortal woman. She soon wasted away of grief, and I wound up in an orphanage. I had no option to disguise my hair but to shave it off, and I set one too many things aflame.” He laughed, grim. “Before long I was on the streets, alone and starving.”
“Until my mother found you,” Charumati put in. She loosened her embrace, but Sheetal didn’t move away.
“I had no wish to go. I blamed my father for abandoning me. But the Esteemed Matriarch offered me a much better life, and a sister, so in time I agreed.” Kaushal touched his necklace. “Once I got here, I transformed within days. Sheetal, it is nothing to fear. It would have happened in any case.”
“They threw you out of the orphanage?” Sheetal imagined little Kaushal, all ribs and skin, fighting bigger kids for scraps and getting beaten up in the process, and she wanted to reach back through time and rescue him.
Charumati spoke fiercely, her flickering eyes like living jewels. “See? If we raised humanity to its highest potential, no one would behave like this. No one would be harming you or anyone else, my daughter.”
“Mortals do not understand,” Kaushal said. “They walk around blindfolded, thinking only of themselves. Some understand compassion, but they are few and far between.”
Sheetal begged to differ. Dad was a great example of compassion, always reminding her to think of the other person’s point of view. Minal had stood by Sheetal through everything. Even Radhikafoi cared in her way, or she wouldn’t have made it her life’s work to help domestic violence survivors.
But then there were Bijal and Vaibhav from school. Oncologist Auntie and her gang. Dev’s ancestor, the star hunter. All the people who’d made Charumati feel like she had to hide. Kaushal wasn’t wrong, not really.
Sheetal stepped out of her mother’s hug. “Why do you want to go back to Earth, then? Is it because you miss the stuff you left behind?”
Kaushal and Charumati traded puzzled glances. “I assume you spoke with my sister,” Kaushal said.
“It’s not that great,” Sheetal went on, pretending not to hear him. “I should know.” The words tasted weird in her mouth. Some of it wasn’t great, that was for sure, but other parts were awesome. Forests, amusement parks, Dad, to start with.
“Then why does the thought of the transformation trouble you so, my daughter?” Charumati asked archly.
“I admit to harboring a certain amount of fascination with mortal advancements.” Kaushal gazed into a mirror, and Marine Drive in Mumbai appeared, curving around a sparkly blue sea. Cars zipped along its breadth. “There were no sports cars in my time! But it is not that. Your mother has shared her plan with me, and I think she is right. There is no reason the mortal world must struggle like this.”
“When you take your circlet tonight, beti,” Charumati said, “you will join our house, and we will work together to enlighten humanity and show Nani and Nana there is no cause to close the gates.” She smiled. “But first, you must get through the competition.”
Back up a sec. This was too much for Sheetal to deal with right now. “So I’m going to become a full star no matter what?”
There it was, out in the open. Even if everything inside her was spinning around and around like a carousel. Even if it felt like the ultimate betrayal.
“Yes,” said Charumati. “Every child of star and mortal parents does by the time they come of majority.” She took Sheetal’s tingling hands in hers. “That is why I did not bring you with me; I wanted you to enjoy your mortal life with your papa as long as possible.”
Kaushal glowed, making all the mirrors shine with silver radiance. “But now we can walk together among the mortals and heal their world!”
Save Dad, Sheetal told herself, reining in her threads of panic before they could be heard in the astral melody. What she needed to do to make that happen hadn’t changed. She could figure out the rest later.
Kaushal’s innumerable reflections beamed with fervor. “I know others will join us. Your mother’s plan is a wise—”
“Like my mom said,” Sheetal interrupted, “let’s get through the competition before we start recruiting people. And for me to do that, I need your help.” She explained the situation with the marionettes, carefully leaving out the bit about Padmini’s disapproval. “We just need them to get back into Priyanka’s room without anyone seeing. Only if you want to, of course.”
Kaushal was already nodding. “Whatever help House Pushya and its champion need, I will give.”
Sheetal wasn’t so sure that was a good thing.
Advisors, ladies-in-waiting, and various other attendants all tore in and out of Nani’s and Nana’s study, dodging the waitstaff who replenished the breakfast dishes every few minutes. Sheetal, trying not to flip out every time she remembered what was happening to her, ate and ate and ate her feelings. At least now she knew why her stomach had turned into a black hole.
“Oh, beti,” Nani rhapsodized between discussions about centerpieces and lighting, “such a ball we have prepared for your natal day and ascension into the court! I have waited seventeen years for this.”
She sounded so truly happy that, for a minute, Sheetal just gave in and sank into a daydream, one as comforting as a warm bubble bath. In it, she’d grown up here without the game-playing or the assumptions, just with magic and knowing where she belonged. Now, on the cusp of her ascension to the court, she stood by her mother and grandmother, their three voices and hearts joined in harmony rather than discord, as they poured jar after jar over the balcony railing until stardust illuminated everyone on Earth with silvery light, motivating them to create beauty and art and innovation.
A shiver ran through her. She hated to admit it, but that image was starting to feel more natural than the one of her going back to high school and then to college to study astronomy and folklore.
What did she need to study astronomy for, the astral melody, the cosmic dance, the flame at her core all whispered, when she could be it?
Nani clapped for attention, reminding Sheetal where she actually was, and ordered everyone but the family to leave. She nodded at Charumati, who directed Sheetal through her warm-up exercises. By now, even the lip trill didn’t make her want to cringe.
Which was good, because the rest of her was about to spill out of her skin in a mess of—in a mess of something. She didn’t know what, but nerves crackled through her like exposed wires, and they wouldn’t let her sit still.
She was seventeen today, and she was turning into a star. The astral melody pealed through her, as much a part of her as her own blood. All she wanted to do was set it free.
Nana interceded at the point when Sheetal began to sing. “Save your voice, dikri,” he said. “You will need it soon enough.”
Nani beamed, scattering silver light across the ebony table. Even the white streaks in her immaculate bun shone with it. “That reminds me; we must talk of the ceremony itself.” Sheetal nodded. “You will be expected to present yourself with grace when your name is called. To stand and take your place at the platform, where Padmini will inspire you.”
“Perhaps, jaan, she would like to choose which attendant inspires her,” Nana suggested.
Nani acknowledged
him with a nod. “To stand and take your place at the platform, where either Padmini or Beena, as appointed by you, will inspire you. We have arranged for an instrument to be brought out, but it will not be revealed until the necessary moment.”
“To build the suspense. I get it.” Sheetal might not have performed in public before, but she definitely understood the value of a good flourish.
Like the way Dev played to the audience when he was onstage.
Nana grew stern. “And to protect you. We know of the attempt to incriminate you for the loss of the marionettes, beti, and have warded your room against unauthorized entry.”
“Wait, you do?” Sheetal should have expected that. Of course they would have their spies. “Do you know who it was?”
“Do not trouble yourself further with this matter, beti. We will take care of it.” His voice warmed. “I do wish you felt you could have come to us. We are your family, and it is our responsibility to look out for you.”
Sheetal considered that. She wanted to probe more, but if they knew who the perpetrator was, they might also know Kaushal had smuggled the puppets back to Priyanka’s room. Or at least that he was involved somehow. And she wasn’t about to remind them of that.
She caught her tongue between her teeth. Please let them not know that part of it.
“Thank you,” she said finally. “I appreciate that.”
“Such a wretched act reeks of the perpetrator’s insecurity, a belief that their skill alone cannot be enough.” Nani spoke with confidence, a majestic matriarch blessing the newest child of her line. “You, however, have nothing to fear.”
“Nothing at all,” Charumati chimed in. “Once you have been inspired, you will have an hour to prepare and perform your song. Do not rush; that hour will more than suffice.” Like Nani had done a couple of days ago, she cupped her hands around a single silver flame. “Trust this, the spark within you.”
Nana refilled Sheetal’s cup with blue mango juice as Nani sighed. “My hope was that you would be able to perform first,” she said, “that you might make the freshest impression and then rest while others bore the burden of strained nerves. But it is not to be.”
In spite of your best threats and bribes, you mean. Sheetal could imagine what Nani had tried. It was a shame none of it had worked; getting her turn over with and relaxing sounded fabulous.
“Unfair as it may seem,” said Nana, an amused gleam in his eye, “ours is not the only house to wish that for its champion.” He sipped his cordial. “In order to prevent underhanded maneuvering and jockeying for position, the Esteemed Matriarch and Patriarch of House Dhanishta will draw names from a silver bowl.”
Nani huffed. “The most important thing to bear in mind is that whatever the other champions might produce, it is immaterial to you. You are a daughter of a great nakshatra, and music flows in your veins.”
“And soon,” Charumati said, touching her starry diadem, “you will receive your circlet. I cannot wait. So long we have waited to share everything with you.”
The sidereal melody resonated with her family’s pride and affection, ornaments and silver bells abounding. The glimpse of Nani’s soft smile, so unlike her, loosened the knots in Sheetal’s belly and made her feel a little shy. A little happy, even.
Underneath her ambition, Nani did care. And Sheetal wanted her to.
“It is a blessing for us all,” Nana agreed, placing his hand over hers. “Welcome home.”
26
Nani and Charumati ran Sheetal through another two hours’ worth of training and last-minute advice before Nana finally sent her off to relax.
T-minus three hours and counting until she had to get it together and save Dad. Sheetal’s pulse sent fire shooting through her veins, and it was all she could do to veil her anxiety.
“Go now and seek the company of those your own age,” Nana urged, opening the door to the corridor. “There is time yet before you must be dressed for the ball.”
The ball. Her birthday ball. Sheetal had almost forgotten about it in worrying about everything else.
With an indulgent smile, Nani shooed Sheetal out of the study. “Oh, look, Meena is here! Perhaps you two can retire to the common room for refreshments.”
“I believe you mean Minal,” Charumati corrected. She made an irked face behind Nani’s back.
Sheetal wasn’t sure “Meena” was much of an improvement on “that one you brought,” but she just couldn’t add another plate to the ones she was already desperately juggling. She would become a full star by tonight. Her mom and her grandmother each had plans for her that she still didn’t know what to do with. And before any of that, she had to win a celestial competition in front of the entire starry court with her singing and playing. Oh, and one of her rivals was her ex’s cousin-brother.
“Ah, yes, Minal,” Nani agreed, just before the door closed behind Sheetal. She stepped into the hallway, where Minal waited, having overheard the last bit of their conversation.
Being Minal, she looked unruffled, even amused. “So? How’d breakfast go?”
“It was fine.” Sheetal didn’t want to get into the whole hey, I’m not really human anymore thing right then. She knew she’d have to soon, but for now, she needed a chance to catch her breath. To enjoy the wonders of this palace she’d barely even gotten to see, never mind experience. “Can we go for a walk?”
Minal grinned. “Whatever you want, birthday girl. Consider ‘Meena’ at your service.” She slipped into the faux-subservient tone she’d used with the guards outside the palace gates. “Might I accompany you on a survey of your domain, my lady?”
“Why, certainly,” Sheetal said in the snottiest voice she could muster, offering her arm. “My apologies about Nani. The older generations are so set in their ways.” Minal just laughed.
Arms linked, the two of them strolled through the palace, from the library to the common room to the night-flower gardens to the theater where other heavenly beings performed at the stars’ invitation.
Pushing everything else from her head, from her heart, Sheetal ate up the portraits, the statuary, the inlay work and carved pillars, the lavish textiles and patterned floors, the ceilings that opened onto the firmament where the cosmic dance spun in eternity. It felt like magic, like a fairy tale come to life.
How weird—all of this was hers. Well, shared with the other stars in the court, but still. Hers.
Part of Sheetal had always known this waited for her. She wasn’t going to stay, not with Dad waiting on Earth, but knowing she could left her heart as light and fluffy as a rosewater cupcake.
This was why she hadn’t taken Rati’s offer. Why she wouldn’t.
Minal didn’t talk about Padmini, and Sheetal didn’t talk about Dev or Jeet or Charumati. Not that they had any time to—everywhere they went, stars stopped them to say hello and wish Sheetal luck. Some belonged to her nakshatra, and others didn’t, but all of them glowed enthusiastically in greeting. Over and over again, Sheetal heard variations of, “Minal has told me what a fine songstress you are, how clever and spirited! I look forward to cheering you on.”
In the common room, a few excited stars even tried to pull Sheetal and Minal into their game of cards and shells. Minal politely declined. “I wish we could, but Sheetal needs to rest before tonight.”
“Another time!” the stars insisted before letting them go.
“People like you here,” Minal said, smug, once they were alone again. “I made sure of it.”
Guilt gnawed at Sheetal’s chest. All that time she’d been wallowing in self-pity, whining about how her best friend fit in here better than she did, Minal had been doing PR on her behalf.
That ugly shade of envy green didn’t suit anybody, least of all her. She would do better, she swore, and filled Minal in on the conversation with Kaushal and Charumati.
“I always knew you’d end up here,” Minal said finally, when they were back in the champions’ quarters. She parked herself beneath the sconce next to their door. I
ts miniature starbursts glowed with diminutive silver flames.
“You did?” Sheetal had been prepared for pretty much any other reaction.
“Sure. I mean, look at you.” Minal pointed, and Sheetal instinctively peered down at herself. “I heard what Padmini said. She didn’t touch your hair. Or do your makeup. But she didn’t need to. I’m not stupid, Sheetu. I know you’re changing.”
While Sheetal tried to figure out what to say, Minal added, “Like I said, I always knew. I just hoped I’d get to come along for the ride.”
“You weren’t supposed to get hurt by anyone, though!” It made sense why Padmini had backed off, but Sheetal still kind of wanted to shake her.
Minal’s mouth flattened into a line. “Just a stupid crush. Don’t worry about it.”
Except Minal hadn’t liked anyone that much for a long time, if ever. Sheetal picked her words carefully. “Okay, but what about Kaushal—”
“It’s your birthday. Let’s talk about you,” Minal interrupted. “Just because you’re turning into a star doesn’t mean you can forget about me, you hear me?”
“As if I could.” The very idea made Sheetal laugh. It didn’t matter how long she lived; that was never happening.
“Good. How do you feel about the whole star thing, anyway?”
Sheetal reached for the silver crystal doorknob. “Can we talk about that inside? I mean, you were the one who said I need to rest.”
“Nope.” Minal pressed herself back against the wall. “I live here now. By this beautiful light fixture. We can’t bear to be parted.”
“Riiiight. Maybe you’re the one who needs a nap—”
Loud voices sounded nearby, muffled but angry. It took Sheetal a second to pinpoint the source—Dev’s and Jeet’s room. She shot a nervous glance Minal’s way.
The door flew open, and Jeet blustered into the corridor. “Just stay out of it!” Dev rushed out behind him, calling his name.
It was the most absurd thought to have, but Sheetal couldn’t help noticing how good Dev looked in dark blue. Like he belonged there against the silver-starred walls.
Star Daughter Page 24