Star Daughter(16)

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “I should have told you I knew.”

Sheetal had to go over his words three times before she could parse them. “Told me you knew what?”

Shoving more pages out of the way, Dev joined her on the floor. His apprehensive glance skated past hers. “I’ve never talked to anyone outside my family about this.”

“Okay . . . ,” she said as patiently as she could.

“So. This is the moment where I make my grand confession,” he said, but the attempt to lighten the mood fell flat. “Argh, this is— Let me put it this way. It’s not . . . it’s not just a story. It’s a memory. My memory.”

Sheetal looked down to see she’d been ripping at her cuticle. She’d never heard of being able to see other people’s memories or dreams or anything like that. “I don’t get it.”

Dev blew out a breath. “It all really happened. A long time ago.”

The ground felt like it was tilting, uncovering new vistas she’d never imagined. What was he saying, that stars really used to walk among humans like it was no big deal? And that there had been other half-stars?

A suspicion buzzed at the back of her mind like a mosquito she couldn’t reach to swat: And wouldn’t that mean he knew stars like her were real?

“Ha, ha,” she said, though she couldn’t be less amused if she tried. “So funny.”

“I know how it sounds, but I swear I’m not making it up,” Dev went on. “That guy in the story, the artist? He was my great-great-great-great-whatever-grandfather.”

The artist in the story had pulled a knife on the star. Had imprisoned and bled her. Sheetal backed away, her heart contracting with horror and sadness. “Your great-great-whatever-grandfather tortured a star?!”

Charumati’s vague warning to stay hidden echoed in her ears, resonant in a way it had never been. Where there is magic, there will always be hunger to possess it. You must hide what you are.

Dev ran a hand over his face. “Well, this is going great.” He started to reach for her, then stopped himself. “Listen, I’m so sorry. You have to know that.”

Her head whirling, Sheetal slumped against the bed. She scarcely felt the metal frame biting into her shoulder blades.

She still had to be dreaming, she thought desperately. None of this made any sense. Forcing the horrific vision aside, she asked, “But why aren’t you surprised I could see your dream?”

After all, if she hadn’t known she could do that, there was no way he should be taking it so well. Right?

Dev looked confused. “Uh, because you’re a star?”

The mosquito buzzing cut off. It was just Sheetal and the cosmos, holding a collective breath for her reply.

“What?” She laugh-snorted. Normally she would have been mortified, but that was before she’d woken up in Bizarro World. “Wait, you’re serious? You really think I’m a star?”

It sounded pathetic even to her, a last-ditch effort to throw him off the trail.

“Look,” Dev said, brushing at the back of his neck, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I knew, but what are you playing at? I don’t get it.”

“What are you playing at, saying I’m a star?”

His gaze flicked to the pictures on the wall. “My family’s always known about stars, but it’s more like a superstition at this point.” He shrugged. “You know, like saying you’re related to Cleopatra. I didn’t even really believe it until I met you.”

Because you’re a star.

Dev kept talking, describing how his forefather had gone on to become the first star hunter, but it fell on her ears like white noise.

He knew what she was. He’d known the entire time, and he’d let her think he didn’t.

How had they gone from cookies to this? If only she could rewind the past hour. Her nail dug deeper into the wound on her thumb, making it scream.

“And then you inspired me, and it wasn’t just a story anymore. . . .”

Sheetal’s head jerked up. Her hands were on fire, the pain dialed up to ten. “What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything.”

The ghost of the starsong chimed as if in contradiction.

Dev was studying her like he wasn’t sure if she was kidding or not. She stared at him, arms crossed, willing him to explain. “You do know I’m not your manic pixie dream girl or whatever?”

Understanding crossed his face, making his eyes crinkle. He even laughed. “No one told you stars are muses? How do you think I finished my song? You inspired me. Like, with your light.”

Outrage and incredulity boiled at Sheetal’s core, sending her flame roaring high. Her whole body grew hot with shame until she was sure she’d singe the carpet and all the false starts that littered it. This human boy she’d met three months ago knew more about her than she did, knew more about her magic. More than her own family had ever bothered to tell her.

The world had dissolved under her feet, leaving her unmoored.

She glared at the ceiling, wishing she could pierce it with her gaze. Wishing she could pierce the stars so they hurt like she did.

Her mind was a tornado of doubt and wrath and dread. She seized onto one thought at random, gripping it close like a life preserver, and rounded on Dev. “Oh, gods, were you going to bleed me, too, for your songs?”