Free The Forgotten Sisters by Shannon Hale

Felissa asked.
    â€œPrey becomes the predator,” Miri said. “You know, maybe it is time I became a bandit.”
    Felissa laughed. “A bandit? You’re too nice.”
    â€œI don’t want to be too nice. I want to be as mean as they are.”
    â€œOr just more clever,” said Sus, joining them.
    â€œWhat are you talking about?” asked Astrid. Her mouth was full of meat, and around her neck hung a necklace of caiman teeth, punctured and threaded with a thin reed fiber. A gift, perhaps, made by someone who did not have anything else to share.
    â€œBandits,” said Felissa.
    â€œNaturally,” said Astrid.
    â€œIs it always wrong to steal?” said Miri. “Or at least, is it wrong to steal back what someone else stole from you?”
    â€œAsk one of your books,” said Astrid.
    â€œIf it’s yours to begin with, then it’s not stealing at all,” said Sus, her chin in her hand as she watched the flames.
    â€œWhat do you want to steal?” Felissa scooted closer, her smile huge.
    â€œYour allowance,” said Miri. “They preyed on us. Why can’t we take a turn?”
    At a far fire, Miri spotted him. Thick, bearded, scarred, eyes that seemed disinterested but never stopped looking. Dogface the bandit. Miri hurried inside.
    The feast continued all day. Meat roasted over flame till the organ stew was ready, followed by thin slices of white belly skin crackling and crisping over the embers.
    Miri watched it all through the window while making plans. Dogface had been a bandit once, and perhaps was one still. Certainly Jeffers and the trader Gunnar, despite their pretended respectability, were no better than common bandits.
    Something had to change. Perhaps before the girls could learn to be princesses, Miri needed to teach them how to be bandits.

Chapter Nine
    That caiman struck with yellow eyes flashing
    Its eyes were as hot as the boiling sea
    That caiman struck with yellow teeth gnashing
    Each tooth was as long as a cypress tree
    After two months in the swamp, the soles of Miri’s feet were as tough as lizard skin, but the walk to the woods still poked and scuffed her. Here, the ground was drier and harder, and broken brambles bit like snakes. But the sisters did not complain, so neither did Miri.
    She took them to the mouth of the narrow road that led to Greater Alva.
    â€œFat Hofer said bandits plagued these woods in the past,” said Miri. “The king’s guard recently broke up most bandit groups. But still, because of past attacks, the traders might assume any attackers are bandits. Certainly they wouldn’t suspect royal cousins.”
    â€œThat won’t stop them from trying to kill us,” said Astrid. “I don’t care about stealing our allowance from them. We’re doing fine without it.”
    â€œBut that allowance is ours,” said Felissa. “It was Ma’s too. How can we just let them take it?”
    â€œI want to try,” said Sus.
    â€œOnce we get your money back we can buy food,” said Miri. “Food like eggs and ground wheat and honey. I make the most amazing honey cakes!”
    Astrid had no answer to that.
    Miri felt reckless. The loneliness and weeks of inactivity bit her, a death grip threatening to pull her under. At last, a task! Something she could do to try to fulfill her duty.
    â€œIt’ll be like bagging a caiman,” said Miri. “Only this meat won’t spoil. One big catch that’s worth an entire month of hunts and traps.”
    Astrid looked thoughtfully into the forest canopy. Miri wagered that Astrid quite enjoyed hunting caiman.
    â€œAccording to your mother’s letters, the king’s allowance used to come monthly with the traders from Asland,” said Miri. “That’s when we need to pounce. They might be prepared to squash a real bandit attack, but we’re not trying to steal their goods. We just need to get in and out