The Forgotten Sisters Read Online Free PDF

on the spot and cut you up for meat,” Astrid said, casually cleaning out her fingernails.
    â€œNo one’s ever really done that,” said Sus.
    â€œAs far as we know,” said Astrid. “But we
could
be the first and no one would stop us.”
    â€œI see.” So as her very first act as their tutor, Miri had trampled on some sacred swamp custom. “I’m sorry.The king ordered me to stay with you. Does that count?”
    Astrid leaned forward, her stare hardening. “Do you see him living here?”
    â€œOh! Well, no. I mean, my duty is to stay with you for a while,” said Miri, searching through her pack. “The king sent a letter.”
    She offered Astrid the king’s signed and sealed letter, only slightly crumpled. Astrid opened it and looked it over, nodding. She was holding it upside down.
    â€œDid you bring us things?” Sus asked, crouching beside Miri’s pack. “City food?”
    â€œSus,” said Felissa.
    â€œI … um …” Miri rummaged through her things. She had three books, a stack of parchment, quills and ink, her sewing kit, and several of Britta’s dresses. She found half of a sea biscuit and offered it to Sus.
    The young girl held it between two fingers and licked a corner. “It tastes like dirt.”
    â€œAnd how would you know?” Felissa said, putting her fists on her hips. “You eat dirt often, do you? Snacking on mud pies when our backs are turned?”
    â€œIt tastes how dirt
smells
,” Sus said.
    â€œ
You
smell,” Felissa said, which would have seemed rude if she had not still been smiling.
    Miri glanced over the house, white and empty as an eggshell. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring more. I thought you’d have plenty.”
    â€œWe do all right,” Astrid said, standing up straighter.
    â€œI’m sure you do,” Miri said. There she went again, offending them. “Um … can I help you get breakfast ready?”
    Astrid shrugged. “I guess.”
    The girls started for the door, so Miri did not change clothes, just brushed at the dried mud on her skirt and shoved on her boots.
    Felissa pointed at Miri’s feet. “What are those for?”
    â€œMy boots? Well, boots are like shoes but, um, taller.”
    Felissa laughed, her honey-yellow hair swaying. “I know what boots are, you muskrat! I meant, why in all creation did you put them on right before—”
    â€œJust let her wear them,” said Astrid.
    Miri glanced at the girls’ bare and filthy feet. Perhaps they’d never had boots of their own.
    â€œFelissa, would you like to wear my boots?” Miri asked, starting to unlace them.
    Felissa’s laughter broke even higher. So Miri shrugged, laced them back up, and followed the girls out.
    Apparently breakfast was not waiting for them insome kitchen hut out back. Breakfast had to be hunted. They tromped away from the house and into a reed forest—thick, sturdy grass reaching well above Miri’s head. Two herons flapped away on flat wings, long legs trailing. Astrid swung a pole at them but missed. Underfoot Miri crushed mint and pondweed, and then suddenly, ground that had looked solid swallowed Miri to her knees. Water and mud filled her boots, and her feet felt as heavy as boulders.
    As soon as they reached a rare dry spot, Miri pulled off the sopping boots and, tying them by the laces, hung them around her neck, where they dripped muddy water on her clothes.
    Sus whispered something, and Felissa giggled.
    â€œWhy do you live here?” Miri asked, trying to tiptoe through a muddy area without slipping.
    â€œWe were born here,” Astrid said in her are-you-brainless voice.
    â€œBut you’re royalty,” said Miri. “Did you know that only royalty can live in a linder house? How did you end up here?”
    â€œI think someone was naughty,” Sus said, watching Miri with her intense, pale-eyed