The Lost Queen (Book 1 of The Lost Queen Series)

Chapter Six

The next day, the snow was still falling as Seraiah went through the motions of her day. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion, including her. She wanted nothing more than to continue the search for her sister, but with last night turning up no clues, and the fresh snow covering up any tracks, Seraiah didn't know where to start. Whoever had kidnapped her sister must have taken her out of Ratha, but where would they go?

Her only choice might be to leave Ratha and search the nearest cities. The problem was she knew nothing about traveling or the world at large. She'd spent her entire life in Ratha. She was more likely to end up lost in the woods than to be of any use finding Sterling.

Then there was the second problem of supplies for travel. Those cost money, and the only way she was going to get money was if she went to work. In three days' time, she would have the coin to purchase something. She would have to wait—no matter how much it hurt—and keep looking for clues in the city until then.

Seraiah didn't say one word to her father as each of them got ready for their respective jobs and left the house. She hadn't forgiven him for saying there was nothing to be done about Sterling.

While she worked, she made lists in her head of things she might need for leaving Ratha. She couldn't take a mule and a cart because the trees would be too hard to navigate. A horse would be ideal, but they were hard to come by and expensive. There was the additional complication of having never ridden a horse.

After further thought, Seraiah decided she'd need to go on foot, which meant she would have to consider how much she could carry with her. A weapon or something to use for protection would be a good idea, but those were expensive too, and she didn't know the first thing about using one. It would also help to have a map. There had to be one she could copy somewhere in the library.

In her distraction, the other scribes finished with their work long before her. Even Walter finally gave up on waiting. He instructed Seraiah to place her pages on his desk when she finished, before leaving her to an empty room.

Once she was alone, her thoughts turned back to her sister and the hopeless situation. The words blurred before her eyes as she struggled to hold back her tears.

Don't cry, Seraiah told herself. You'll ruin the page and have to start over again.

She should have done a better job of protecting her sister. Then none of this would be a problem. If only she had taken her dreams seriously. Maybe then her sister would still be safe, and she would have kept her promise to Mama.

Seraiah rubbed her wrist. She'd never told anyone about the promise Mama had her make before she'd died—not even Sterling.

She could still remember the smell of sickness that had clung to Mama's skin.

Mama had been coughing more than usual, and even though Seraiah had feared catching the blood fever herself, she'd stayed by her bedside, wiping her brow with a cool cloth. When she'd leaned over to help Mama wipe the blood from her lips, Mama had grabbed her wrist before she could touch the cloth to her mouth.

Her grip was surprisingly strong for someone so sick.

"Seraiah," she whispered, her voice rattling in her chest. "Listen to me carefully."

"Yes, Mama."

"You must take care of your sister when I am gone," she rasped out.

"No." Seraiah shook her head. She hadn't wanted to face what was right in front of her: Mama was dying.

"Please promise me, Seraiah."

She shook her head again, gritting her teeth to hold back her sobs, but it was no use.