Star Daughter(67)

Sheetal frowned. “Huh?”

“Your nani intends to close the gates between the worlds once more. She would see no more interaction between stars and mortals. Worse, she has many convinced she is right.”

“Wait, she doesn’t want to see me anymore? I thought she wanted me here.”

“The inverse, my daughter,” Charumati said, releasing her. “She would keep you here for good.”

Considering Sheetal had already assumed as much, having her guess confirmed had no right to sting as much as it did. She buried her nose in the moonlight lotus’s silky petals.

“We have all seen the harm that mortals wreak on one another. Her younger sister, my masi, was assaulted by one. Yet I believe I have conceived—”

“Back up a second. Her sister?” No wonder Nani had refused to discuss her.

“Ojasvini, yes.” Even Charumati’s dismay was delicate. “That vile man imprisoned my poor masi and bled her for profit.”

Dev’s vision washed back over Sheetal, every gruesome detail. It couldn’t be a coincidence. “The first star hunter. I saw it.”

How achingly sad—Ojasvini’s fate had been so awful that almost no one spoke of her anymore, not even the history books. To only live on in that grisly memory . . .

Charumati tilted her head, and her hair flung silver starlight over the dark grass. “Did you?”

Sheetal stared out at the star-glittered water. Everything she thought she knew had turned in on itself like a kaleidoscope, the pieces tumbling over one another until they formed an entirely new picture. She’d had a great-aunt. Dev’s and Jeet’s forebear had known and tortured that great-aunt. What were the odds?

Astronomical, she was sure—a pun Dad would appreciate. And yet here they all were, the sidereal song swelling and shimmering around them like stardust. As briefly as she could, she explained how she’d witnessed the memory.

“Ah.” Charumati nodded, unfazed. “Bridging hearts. It is a revealing act, an intimate one.” Her way-too-perceptive look made Sheetal want to gag. Not even the moonlight lotuses could ease the nausea.

She punched the loose soil down with her fists. “Ugh, can we get back to your masi, please?”

“Nani rescued her sister, but Ojasvini was never the same. In the end, she left the court, and Nani’s grief warped into hatred of the mortals who would permit such violence.” Her mother’s smile was anything but happy. “So you see how my breaking the taboo against interaction with mortals might not have sat so well with her.”

Sheetal had to admit she would probably want to close the gates after that, too.

Not that she was going to let Nani do it now. “So what happened to that guy? Please tell me he didn’t just ride off into the sunset.”

A peal of laughter like a bell escaped Charumati. “Hardly. Your nani, shall we say, meted out justice—with the same blade he had used on Ojasvini.”

Mind. Blown. Nani was a badass. Sheetal was kind of freaked out and impressed at the same time.

Charumati waved her hand, bangles tinkling. “About a century ago, House Revati convinced House Dhanishta to reopen the gates separating our worlds on the grounds that keeping the realms apart was doing more harm than good. But it was all to spite Nani. Just as it has now selected Jeet as its champion. Nani is determined to overturn House Dhanishta’s judgment.”

“So how do we stop her?”

“As I was saying, I have conceived a plan.” Charumati stretched out a long leg until her toes dipped into the water. “Our power of inspiration is strong. Combined, our houses could put an end to mortal self-destruction.

“Tell me, dikri, what have you dreamed for your world? What would you change?” Her words were a soft breeze from far away, but her notes in the starry song rang out solid, even resolute.

What would Sheetal change? So many things. An end to war, for starters. And hunger. And . . .

“I met some of the women your foi works with.” Pain rippled through Charumati’s voice. “I saw the scars, both of the body and of the spirit, from the abuse they endured. Imagine if the men and women who inflicted that abuse carried this light in their hearts. Imagine if the entire mortal world did. Imagine if everyone lived from their highest potential, and all people were safe and kind to one another. Nani would have no reason to close the gates to that world.”

Chills ran down Sheetal’s spine. “That would be like magic.”

“Bingo.” Charumati laughed. “Your father taught me that word on one of our first dates. If only all mortals were as sweet and considerate as he.”

A world full of people like Dad. Sheetal could picture it perfectly, down to the smallest detail. Wasn’t that the world society should be striving toward? Peace and harmony? Compassion and kindness? Generosity and equal distribution of resources?

“But we can’t make them be like that,” she argued. Could they? “What about free will?”

“If you witnessed a rabid animal attacking a child, would you not intervene?” Charumati spread her palms, and bands of starlight swirled from them to the rosebuds on the trellis. They bloomed in response, petals unfurling like prayers. “They behave this way because they know no better. If they woke from their sleep, they would not.”

Of course Sheetal would intervene. “You’re talking about enlightenment.”