Star Daughter(103)

Nana and she linked arms with a shell-shocked Dev. “But do not forget that what is a lifetime to a mortal is but a blink of an eye to a star, and as you mature, you will find battles are not won in a single day.”

Then they escorted him to the stage to receive his prize.

Charumati settled in beside Sheetal. “Seizing power is one thing, and holding it is quite another,” she said. “It is like trying to grasp water or sand; eventually it spills through the cracks and into the hands of those keen to catch it.”

Her starry diadem sitting heavy on her head, Sheetal wondered if now might be a good time to find out just how long she could stay sober on frostberry wine.





Part Three


Be humble, for you are made of earth.

Be noble, for you are made of stars.

—UNKNOWN





My mother’s speech was both bright and dark, twinkling in and out of reach. She wore diamonds in her hair like war wounds. I saw the flame that burned within her, hungry and silhouetted with the shapes of secrets.

I saw how those shapes separated my mother from her mother, how they forged gulfs and filled them with poisonous waters. I saw how those same waters threatened to submerge us all.

I lay back in the grass and spread my arms, digging my fingers into the soil to remember myself. Then I took to the skies and burned to transform. But still my heart, with its human memories rooted deep inside, remained mine to rule.

And in keeping it so, in guarding it well, I learned how to make that flame my own.

—FROM SHEETAL’S JOURNAL





33


Charumati and Radhikafoi stood at either side of the hospital bed, watching Sheetal. Only the occasional beeping of the machines broke the silence as Dad slept on. It was all up to her now.

Sheetal lowered the collar of his hospital gown, then reached for the sterilized safety pin in her pocket.

She could already feel the difference, and she hadn’t even stabbed herself yet.

Her blood hadn’t been enough before, but she’d quested for Dad’s sake, competed for him, even sacrificed for him, and along the way, she’d made it enough.

She pricked the meat of her thumb and gasped at the rush of pain. A drop of blood appeared, pure silver without a single spot of scarlet.

Sheetal let the drop fall. It landed on Dad’s chest, flooding the sterile room with silver starlight that diffused over his skin.

And Dad flared bright, beautiful, with a star’s flame. Sheetal’s core mirrored him, singing a story of healing. For an instant, the glow was so potent, she couldn’t see anything else.

Behind her, Radhikafoi cried out. “What happened? Is he all right?”

The radiance dimmed.

Two heartbeats passed, then three.

Alarms blared as Dad sat up, his face ten years younger. He looked healthy and strong enough to run a marathon. Best of all, he looked like Dad again. “What did I miss?”

Sheetal hugged him hard, and he returned it just as firmly. He felt so real, so human, with all the sweat and troubles and joys that mortality brought with it. Her throat dammed up as she listened to his pulse, counting the beats and assuring herself it wasn’t fading before letting go.

Radhikafoi instantly grabbed his hand and pressed it to her heart. “You did it, beta,” she said. “You really did it.”

Then Dad caught sight of Charumati, whose eyes were wide with wonder and wet with tears. A spectrum of emotions played out in his expression, from incredulity to sadness to hope, as she tugged off the scarf tied over her head. Her hair tumbled down, sparkling and shimmering like the starshine it was. “My Gautam, my jeevansaathi,” she murmured, her words like song. “You waited for me.”

“And I’d do it again,” he said. “You haven’t aged a day, my Charu jaan, not like me.”

She laughed, and Sheetal wondered how even a single human had ever heard it and taken her for anything but magic. “Nonsense, you are just as dashing as the day we met. Perhaps more so.”

Both Sheetal and Radhikafoi reluctantly stepped aside as Charumati glided toward the head of the bed. “We have much to talk about, my love,” she said, soft as a secret. Dad nodded and took her delicate hands in his own.

Sheetal followed Radhikafoi out and shut the door behind them.

“I’m proud of you, beta,” her auntie said abruptly. “I should have told you about the letter sooner.”

“Uh, thanks.” Sheetal felt all shy and embarrassed. They didn’t talk like this. Not ever. It was awkward, but nice, too.

“Don’t think this means you’re not still enrolled in the PSAT course. I arranged for you to make up the days you missed.” There was something strange about the way Radhikafoi was staring at her, almost like she expected Sheetal to argue and storm off.

Like she was worried Sheetal didn’t need her anymore.

The class sounded even less appealing after three days surrounded by the stars. But sometimes love came in the weirdest packages. Sheetal hid her smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Oh. Well, good.” Radhikafoi rummaged in her enormous purse until she found a candy bar, then thrust it at Sheetal. “Here, have a snack. You’ll need your energy to help me keep them out so your mummy and papa can talk.”

Sure enough, an army of doctors and nurses was descending on Dad’s room. Sheetal nodded at Radhikafoi, then chomped down on the candy bar and steeled herself to guard the door.