Star Daughter(40)

Sheetal tried to blink, but Nani held her gaze like she’d nailed it there. She cocked her head as if listening. A few seconds later, she nodded. “I suspected as much. You know not how to wield your flame. We must remedy that straightaway.”

Nani had read her mind! Sheetal wanted to crawl out of her own skin in mortification. She had to learn how to shield herself.

“Beti, in good conscience, how could we send you home when you might burn yourself up? Or others?” Charumati sounded genuinely concerned. “We must teach you mastery of your abilities, for they will only grow stronger with each day that passes.”

“Do not worry for your papa,” Nana said. “Your blood may not be pure, but it is enough to tether him to the mortal world until you return. But your nani is right; we must train you for your own safety.”

Sheetal flailed. “Mom?”

Her mother nodded. “Heed the song. It will always tell you what is true.”

That was something, at least.

Sheetal breathed in as deeply as she could, then allowed herself to fall into the astral melody. Strands of starlight connected her to the other stars in the sky, and her earthly concerns dissipated like stardust over vast swaths of night. It assured her Dad would be safe for now.

With a flutter of soft, silvery notes, she melted back into the moment, back into Nani’s study where her mother and grandparents waited for her answer.

“You swear you’ll give me the blood if I win?” she asked.

Nani raised cupped hands filled with silver flame. “I vow it on the light that is our bloodline,” she pronounced. “If House Pushya wins, the blood is yours.”

They had Sheetal cornered. If she wanted to save Dad, she had no choice.

“First lesson,” she chirped, all false enthusiasm. “I can’t wait.”





13


Nani paused in the doorway to her study, her starry circlet gleaming like a guiding light. “Did you have enough to eat, beti? Are you still hungry?” She sounded so attentive, so considerate, the perfect grandmother.

“No,” Sheetal said, still reeling. To save Dad, she didn’t just have to compete in whatever this was. She had to win. In two days, no less. How in the world—how in the universe—was she supposed to do that?

She’d glanced over the detailed training schedule Nani’s secretary had inscribed on thick blue parchment—voice and instrument rehearsals, tours of the court, etiquette schooling—but it only made her want to hide out somewhere safe, like her bedroom at home, and scream until her throat was raw and this all made sense. How had Dad’s fate come to depend on her?

Dad would tell her to observe and take notes, that this was a problem, and problems had solutions. She clung to that like a rope to keep from slipping off the cliff of despair. “No, thanks. I’m full.”

Nani clapped, one smart clap, and just like that she was the tall, dignified monarch again. “Good, then let us begin. We have a full day of instruction and training planned.”

For the next hour, Nani led Sheetal on a tour of their nakshatra’s wing of the palace, detailing who lived in which suite. Sheetal made a mental map as they went along. Each star’s standing in the house hierarchy determined the number of rooms they had, with Nani and Nana at the top, of course.

The palace proper, Nani explained, was laid out like a many-petaled flower composed of smaller flowers, each flower devoted to a different group of beings and joined by a covered bridge to the gods’ courtyard at the center.

One of those smaller flowers housed the twenty-seven nakshatras, each in its own wing. It was all so lovely, with enamel and silver and ebony everywhere she looked, that Sheetal couldn’t get over the feeling she’d landed in one of Charumati’s leather-bound volumes from the secret room at home. There was the multitude of lushly adorned spaces, many of which had no ceiling but the sky. There were the so-beautiful-it-hurt-to-look-at people in their clothes made of silk and stardust. There was the orchard of skyberry and blue mango trees, its arresting aroma permeating the air.

As they passed through the residential section of the Pushya wing, Nani pointed out the various suites of rooms and named their residents. She even took Sheetal inside her own impressive apartments. “You are always welcome here, dikri. Do not be shy.”

Charumati’s set of rooms was on the left. “I will leave that to your mother to show you.”

“Wait, what about that one?” Sheetal asked. Nani had skipped over the suite to the right of the one she shared with Nana.

“It is unoccupied,” Nani said shortly, “and has been for some time.” Her nostrils flared. “If I had been able to arrange it, you would be lodging here, not in the guest quarters with the other champions. A daughter of our line should be with us.”

“It’s fine, honestly,” Sheetal said. Even that champion’s dorm room had been prettier than any place she’d ever stayed in on Earth.

Like a bewitching film score, the astral melody played in the background of her thoughts, urging her toward fantastical dreams. Her bones knew this place. They wanted to sink into it and forget everything else. Sheetal shook it off. Disloyal, two-timing bones.

Nani gestured to the end of the hallway carved with statuary of flowers, gods, and stars from the past. Pewter sconces shaped like garudas and winged nagas washed the walls with flickers of starlight. “If you wish to visit a friend in another house, you simply cross the edge of the court and enter the appropriate passageway. I am certain you will make many friends and be paying many visits.”