Star Daughter(50)

“I can’t protect anyone,” Radhikafoi said, and her laugh was bitter as the karela she loved to cook.

Deepakfua put his arm around her. “You need to trust her. She’s a smart girl.”

Radhikafoi sighed. “Of course she is. But a girl still needs her mother. I should never have let Charumati leave without her.”

“Radhika jaan, the weight of the world cannot sit on your shoulders. Let people make their own mistakes.” Deepakfua’s expression turned wry. “They’re going to do that anyway.”

“But this shouldn’t be her responsibility! She’s just a child.” Radhikafoi took Dad’s hand. “What are we going to do if she fails—”

Sheetal couldn’t stand to watch anymore. She pressed her knuckles to her eyes. The starry melody resounded in her ears, her heart.

Her auntie was right. Winning had seemed a tiny bit possible when Nani had spun her that fantasy, embellishing it with grand stories and even grander speeches, but who was Sheetal kidding? She was going to fall flat on her face and blow her one chance to help Dad.

When she looked again, all she saw was her own reflection gazing out of thousands of mirrors, accusing. Her eyes burned, but she wouldn’t cry. Not here.

She turned to find Charumati and Minal standing behind her. They’d obviously seen the whole vision. Charumati’s mouth had crimped into an odd cross between a smile and a frown.

It was petty, but Sheetal hoped her mother did feel bad. She’d left them. And now Dad might die, and Sheetal was stuck in this competition she’d never asked for because of it.

A girl needed her mother. Sheetal never would have burned anyone if Charumati had stuck around to teach her how to control her fire. Her mother had watched her all that time and let her struggle. Did she not care?

Minal rested her chin on Sheetal’s shoulder. “Don’t listen to Auntie, Sheetu. She’s just scared. You can do this.”

“Yeah, well, so am I,” Sheetal said. She pretended she didn’t notice Charumati’s silence.





16


When Sheetal emerged from the Hall of Mirrors, Padmini stood waiting in the corridor, as lovely as any of the statues surrounding her. The illusion shattered when she flipped one page, then the next, in the historical romance novel she was tearing through, her mouth rounded with fascination.

Only one person could have given her that book, and Sheetal signaled for that person to distract Charumati. Once Minal and her mother had started chatting a few feet away, Sheetal nudged Padmini, making her start in surprise. “Come with me?”

Padmini had to help her. Sheetal couldn’t do this. Even Radhikafoi didn’t believe in her. This whole competition was a joke, and if she didn’t get out of here in time, Dad would be the punch line.

“Certainly, Charumati. I apologize for my inattention, but I must confess I find myself unable to set this tome down for even a moment!” Padmini sneaked a wistful glance at the book before marking her place with her finger.

“I’m not Charumati?” Sheetal pointed out, not sure how to feel about that.

Padmini studied her more closely, visibly perplexed, then laughed. “Oh, my apologies, Sheetal. With your hair about your face like that, I mistook you for your mother.”

Sheetal flicked her starry hair over her shoulders and out of the way before urging Padmini farther down the hall. “Look,” she said, hoping her desperation didn’t sound as gross as it felt, “I don’t know how much you heard about all of this, but my dad needs me. If you’d just give me a drop of your blood, I could go heal him right now.”

Padmini’s smile, though striking, was less open and more practiced than it had been with Minal. Now it disappeared completely. Before she lowered her gaze, Sheetal glimpsed a mix of alarm and pity there. “I am sorry, Sheetal, truly, but I am afraid this is a request I cannot grant.”

“But why?” Sheetal pressed. “It’s just a drop.” Padmini didn’t answer. “I’ll pay you, if that’s what you’re worried about. Want more romance novels? I’ll get them from Earth. Just help me. Please.”

She didn’t even care that she was begging.

Padmini sighed softly. “It is not that.”

“Then what?” Sheetal glanced over her shoulder. Any minute now, Charumati would catch up to her. She couldn’t risk her mother overhearing them.

“I cannot.” Padmini raised her head, and her silver-brown eyes had cleared. Whatever she felt was bound up tightly, far from the strains of starsong. “Please do not ask me again.”

Feeling like a bully, Sheetal advanced on her. “Why not, though? Tell me, or I’ll go to her myself.”

When Padmini spoke, it was between gritted teeth. “The Esteemed Matriarch forbade it the night you arrived.”

Blood roared in Sheetal’s ears. “She did what? I don’t believe you.”

“Our song tells us so,” Padmini said. “Feel it for yourself.”

Sheetal let the starsong wrap around her, searching for the threads that led back to Nani. When she thought of taking Padmini’s blood, a no boomed in her chest. No star in their nakshatra was to shed the blood of any other star for any reason. The mere idea of disobeying made her feel ill.

She flung herself out of the song before it could entrap her any further.