Star Daughter(38)

As if the sidereal song were a sea of starlight, the tide crashed over her, and for a second, a minute—an hour?—it was all she knew. When she glanced around again, everyone had resumed eating. Charumati sat beside her once more, humming. It felt wonderful and alien at the same time.

And scary. What was that?

The beautiful sensation vaporized into fury. Had her mother just used the starsong on her?

“I have waited so long to teach you of our house, our history,” Nani said, beaming. “Your place in our line. And now here you are, where you belong. There is so much to do.”

Sheetal’s hands tingled; her skin prickled. She shoved back her chair and got up. Screw politeness. Screw family ties. None of that would save Dad.

“What is the matter, child?” Nana asked. “Be calm, for you are safe here.”

Every eye in the room bored into Sheetal, and the starsong soared to a crescendo. She plunged forward anyway. “I’m sorry, but you crossed some wires somewhere. I can’t be your champion.”

The stars’ glow flared hotter as they gasped. Giving Charumati a meaningful look, Sheetal added, loud enough that no one could miss it, “I’m just here to get—”

Minal caught her eye. Don’t, she mouthed.

Sheetal had been about to say “blood,” but at that, she changed course. “—help for my dad. You know, on Earth.”

She’d been prepared for anger, for argument, but Nani only raised her hand for silence. “Vacate this chamber,” she commanded. “All of you but my daughter and granddaughter. And speak of this to no one, or you will answer to me.”

After the others had left the long table, she asked, “Minal, how would you appreciate a tour of the palace while we speak as a family? Padmini will escort you.”

Minal hesitated, but Sheetal caught her eager expression. “Go,” she made herself say. “I’ve got this.”

All she could do now was pray that was true.

In their sitting room, Nani and Nana watched Sheetal with complicated expressions. Pride shifted among other things she couldn’t name but wasn’t sure she liked.

“Sit, dikri,” Nani said, gesturing to an indigo divan next to a wide ebony bookcase. “I realize how bizarre this must all seem to you. We have much ground to cover, starting with a bit of family history.”

The crater in Sheetal’s chest spread. The guard had said they’d been expecting her, and the astral melody had as good as sucked her into the sky, it had been so strong. Compelling her to ascend.

What was it her mom had written in that letter to Radhikafoi? The time will come when she must ascend, when she will hear our call. . . .

She stayed standing near the doorway. “I’m kind of in a hurry. You know—the reason I came here?”

Nana smiled. “We understand. Please hear us out.”

“Sit, Sheetal,” Charumati said gently. “I have not forgotten what you asked.”

Sheetal sat. At least they hadn’t said no. “Five minutes.”

“When our house led the court of the stars,” Nani began, “we and we alone governed how the nakshatras would interact with mortals.”

“We serve as muses to them,” Nana interjected. “Then and now.”

Nani smiled at him. “Indeed.” To Sheetal, she said, “We cut off free passage between the realms in the wake of the star hunters. It was simply too risky for our kind.”

Star hunters. Dev’s family. Sheetal shuddered.

“Over time mortals forgot who we were and that we existed outside stories, stories that in time were also lost to memory.” Nani’s smile darkened. “Yet nothing lasts. The Dhanishta nakshatra later took ascendancy, soon reintroducing ideas of a sort better left alone and reopening the gateway, exposing us once more to mortal whim and violence.”

“Mortals do not know how to control themselves,” Charumati said. “It is our responsibility to correct for that.”

The look Nani gave Charumati was less than flattering. “We will discuss that later, Daughter.”

“That’s interesting and all, but what does it have to do with me?” Sheetal asked. Every minute they talked was another minute Dad could die.

“How do you think I made it down to meet your papa?” Charumati answered. “Few of our kind were interested in walking among mortals any longer, yet I had always desired to know more.”

“Yes, and what a foolish decision!” Nani snapped. Nana stroked her arm, and the annoyance melted from her face. “But now we have a chance to restore order, beti. You are that chance, Sheetal.”

“I still don’t understand, though.” Sheetal was trying to be patient, but they kept talking around the question. “How am I involved?”

Charumati patted her hand. “The court holds a competition to determine the successor when either the Esteemed Matriarch or Patriarch of the ruling house ages into the final stage of existence, the supernova, or, less commonly, when they choose to step down. To compete, each interested house must present a champion—a mortal artist it then inspires.”

“From the sky we come, and to the sky we return—the great Void that is Mother Kali,” Nani intoned. “Yet before that, there is much to be done. With the Esteemed Patriarch of House Dhanishta taking his leave and you as our champion, we will reclaim our old position and resume that work.”