Star Daughter(104)
Tomorrow there would be chores to do and biographies to read, fathers to make dinner with, aunties to surprise with celestial golden sofas. For now, though, Sheetal was back in the Night Market with Minal, who’d wasted no time claiming her magical shopping spree. So far, she’d found a dress made of wildflowers and a tablecloth that whipped up complicated pastries on command.
Sheetal sang a single note, high and clear. In response, Padmini appeared, bearing a silver-stringed black crystal harp.
Vanita and Amrita rushed to pet the harp and test its strings. When they knocked on the body, the crystal rang out with the sound of wind on a frosty evening. “Yessssss,” hissed Vanita, her long curtain of white hair stark against the golden green of her eyes. “You have learned to hear with your dead mortal ears.”
“Play a song with us, one of laughter and starry tears,” added Amrita, her teeth flashing, her black hair blending in with the harp. She pushed a chair toward Sheetal.
Darkness in light; light in darkness.
Sheetal sat down on the chair and rested the crystal harp against her thigh. She glanced up at the sky, where her family twinkled among so many other stars, all watching her. All singing, all lending her their magic. Padmini smiled at her, twinkling, too, and nestled closer to Minal.
Sheetal’s fingers pranced and pirouetted over the strings, and her voice poured forth, telling the story of the girl who, though technically full star, was still half mortal at heart and would have it no other way. The harp sisters joined in, their notes weaving together with hers in a web that, for the span of a song, fell over the entire Market and held it captive.
When they drew to a close, the spice trader nodded. “Like the heavens themselves were singing.” Others murmured their assent.
“Star girl!” called a familiar voice. Every hair on Sheetal’s arms and the back of her neck stood as straight as the guards at the gates to Svargalok.
He’d heard her sing at last.
Her whole body tensed. He couldn’t have hated it, but what if he did? Or what if it just didn’t live up to what he’d expected?
Dev sauntered out of the shadows, one hand tucked behind his back. She couldn’t tell from his face what he thought. “There was a long line.”
“Ooh,” called Amrita. “A tall, dark, mysterious stranger!”
Vanita offered a lascivious wink. “Just in time to save you from danger?”
“Nah, I can save myself just fine,” Sheetal tossed back. Hoping she sounded casual, she tapped her foot and asked Dev, “So did you find me non-horror-movie ice cream or not?”
Dev revealed a dripping version of one of the foot-high cones Sheetal had seen on her first visit to the Night Market. “Starry macaron sundae sounded harmless enough. Not to mention appropriate.”
He offered her the cone with its tower of swirling silver-blue-and-purple scoops.
She took a giant lick. Why wasn’t he saying anything about the song?
The harp sisters watched with glee. “Tell us this story! In all its glory!” they sang.
Dev nodded at them. “Nice to meet you, uh . . .”
“Amrita and Vanita,” Sheetal said around a mouthful of the richest, most satisfying ice cream she’d ever had. It tasted like wonder mixed with wine, if wine were the night sky distilled into a thick syrup.
“So?” asked Minal. “Did you hear her sing?” Next to her, Padmini covered her laugh with her hand.
Sheetal glared. “Minu! Come on.”
“Well, did you? We’re all dying to know.”
Dev’s face went soft as he looked at Sheetal. “I’ve never heard anything like that. It’s like . . . you’re a star. That’s the only word for it. Like listening to the sky.”
She smiled. She was pretty sure it was the dorkiest smile ever.
“Awwww, he likes it!” Minal heckled, and the moment was broken. “So sweet.”
“Thanks again for the ice cream,” Sheetal hurried to say before anyone else could chime in. “It’s really good.”
“The guy at the booth recognized me and said I didn’t have to pay.” Dev didn’t sound pleased about that. Ever since they’d gotten home, the recordings online of him singing had gone viral, and it showed no sign of stopping. Talent agents were calling and e-mailing, fans were flooding his inboxes on social media, and people on the street were calling out to him for autographs.
He’d even tried putting up a garbage song to scare people away—deliberately off, hoarse, and scratchy, with terrible lyrics. It didn’t matter; they only clamored for more.
Sheetal winced in sympathy. Dev was going to be seen whether he wanted to be or not. And as his girlfriend, so would she. Maybe the secret of the stars would be out again before long, no matter what Nani had to say about it.
At least then she wouldn’t have to wear this stupid wig. Even here in the Night Market, she hadn’t found anything to disguise her hair.
“I’m really sorry,” she said for what seemed the billionth time.
Dev didn’t answer. She couldn’t blame him if he was still mad. At least he hadn’t dumped her.
Padmini broke the silence. “So all of you are familiar with Orion’s Belt?”
Sheetal nodded. “Yeah, why?”
“It is a waist of space.” Sheetal stared at her. Padmini grinned. “When Dev was teaching me mortal names for our constellations, he insisted I learn this particular jest and use it to aggravate everyone I encounter.”