Star Daughter(56)

Wow, her grandparents really, really didn’t like humans. It made Sheetal sad and angry—what did they think of her? Especially since, unlike Kaushal, she wasn’t about to give up her human heritage.

It was a gross thing to think, but maybe they would try to separate the realms again if she won.

With a shudder, she scoured the texts for any details about the incident that had set them off. Had it involved Dev’s ancestor? But except for that vague mention, the books were silent, as if the woman in the dream-memory had never existed. So who was she?

Still pondering that, Sheetal dove into the book about half-stars. Like she’d witnessed in the dream, up until about a thousand years ago, stars had walked among mortals, inspiring them. All the time, even. Occasionally the already-close muse-artist relationship grew intimate in more ways than one, so it was no shocker that babies often followed. They always took after their celestial parent—the starlight hair, the inner flame, the ability to inspire—but their human heritage meant their blood couldn’t heal.

All stuff Sheetal had known, but seeing it written out like this, reading that there had been other half-stars, made her feel like she was part of something. It meant she wasn’t an anomaly, an accidental one-off, and that for the first time she fit somewhere. It almost didn’t matter that Dad was lying in a hospital bed or that Dev was here to support her rival. She felt like she could breathe again.

Thirsty for more, she read on.

The mortal world was a hard place for half-star children. They were lost, full of longing; and without guidance, their powers often blew up, harming themselves or others. Sheetal hurt just reading that.

Worse, in the age of the star hunters, word spread of the healing nature of stellar blood, making stars targets for eager buyers and the curious alike. A pair of hunters seeking to hone the process discovered that ingesting the blood even heightened mortals’ receptivity to inspiration, creating yet more demand for it. Those stars who survived had all eventually ascended to the starry court for good. And then of course the gates had been closed, so there were no more half-stars.

Until her.

Sheetal scrunched up her nose at the book. She paged through to the end, hunting in vain for stories of half-stars who’d gotten their powers under control and stayed on Earth.

Well, fine. She’d be the first.

There weren’t any mentions of Charumati leaving Svargalok, either. Only a footnote that, under House Dhanishta’s rule, the gates had been reopened.

No wonder Nani was determined to regain control of the court.

Sheetal gathered up her books and was about to go search for Minal in the stacks when Rati appeared at her elbow.

Glorious, with glossy hair that cascaded down her back and a sultry smile, Rati might have been an actress on Earth. Her lively, kajal-lined eyes sparkled, hinting at a cosmos of tantalizing beauty and clandestine pleasures. “It seems we have gotten off to an unnecessarily rocky start. May I sit?”

“What do you want?” Sheetal asked, wary.

“A moment of your time, mortal girl.” Though Sheetal hadn’t said she could, Rati sat down across from her. “I have a proposition for you.”

Sheetal made a show of opening the top book in the pile and running her eyes over the text. “Not interested.”

Rati only laughed. “As I said, I would like us to begin afresh. Am I correct in assuming your mother has told you nothing of me?”

“Just say what you’re here to say. I’m busy.”

Rati nodded. “You wish me to speak plainly? Gladly; it will save us both time.” She leaned forward, her ring-laden hands folded on the table. “I know you have come for a drop of blood for your ailing father. I also know your house has forbidden anyone from giving it to you.”

So much for Nani’s command to keep quiet about Sheetal’s request for help. “Even if it’s true,” Sheetal asked, turning the page, “why do you care?”

“Did I not say I had a proposition for you?” Rati waited until Sheetal looked up from the book they both knew she wasn’t actually reading. “You know you do not belong here. That is hardly a secret.”

“My family thinks I do,” Sheetal pointed out.

“Do they?” But Rati brushed aside her own question. “That is not important. Understand that I am trying to spare you pain. Come, girl, you do not truly wish to step on that stage and degrade yourself before the entire court. You have no training, no drive to be here. And why would you? Your life, your true life, beckons below.”

“Why do you care?”

Rati leaned even closer, until her mysterious eyes dominated Sheetal’s field of vision. “No one need ever know you cannot do this.”

Hack. Priyanka’s sneer echoed in Sheetal’s head, and she had to fight the impulse to pick at her thumb again. She stuffed her hands in her lap. “I’m not a hack.”

“And I am not the one you would need to persuade of that.” Rati reached over and shut the book. “Sheetal, no one in your nakshatra may aid you in this, but I can. I will give you the blood you seek.”

Sheetal’s ears had to have tricked her. No way had Rati actually said that. “Excuse me?”

“I will give you the blood. You see, I am not forbidden from aiding you.” Rati surveyed her lacquered fingernails, a triumphant smile playing over her lips. “All I ask as recompense is that you withdraw from the competition.”