Serafina and the Seven Stars by Robert Beatty

Author:Robert Beatty
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Disney Book Group
Published: 2019-08-01T16:00:00+00:00

“Get up, Sera,” her pa said, shaking her. “Something has happened.”

She followed her father down the corridor toward the kitchens. It appeared that the servants had come in to begin their day. Twenty cooks, scullery maids, and other servants were gathered outside the Rotisserie Kitchen, gasping and whispering and asking questions no one had answers to.

“What’s this all about?” her pa asked as he approached them.

But Serafina’s stomach twisted. She already knew.

“Is someone hurt?” her pa asked them, trying to get through the crowd. Her father had known Mr. Cobere. They had been friends. And he was just about to see him dead.

But then the crowd of servants suddenly parted as someone else approached from the other direction.

Serafina’s heart lurched when she saw Mr. Vanderbilt coming down the corridor.

“What is going on here?” the master of the house demanded in a firm voice.

“Mr. Cobere is dead!” one of the washerwomen cried out, sobbing.

Mr. Vanderbilt’s face went grim and he shoved his way through the bystanders.

There he is, Serafina thought. The murderer. Right there!

Her pa pulled her back from the crowd of servants and the gruesome sight of what was lying on the kitchen floor, saying, “You don’t need to see this.”

She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she’d already seen it, she’d seen it bad, the murder and the blood, and the great Mr. Vanderbilt, his friend and employer, was the one who had done it!

As her father led her away from the commotion, Serafina could hear many of the people in the crowd whispering about what might have happened to Mr. Cobere. And then, just as she and her pa turned the corner of the far corridor, Mr. Vanderbilt’s voice rang out. “Has anyone seen Serafina? I need Serafina!”

Serafina ducked down, her heart accelerating in panic. Was he going to drag her away someplace and kill her? Imprison her? Accuse her of something? She had no idea how she could face Mr. Vanderbilt after what she saw him do.

There was a part of her that wanted to point at him in front of everyone and scream out, He’s the murderer! He’s the murderer! But there was another part of her that remembered the horrific way he had killed Mr. Cobere. She imagined Mr. Vanderbilt charging toward her, striking her with the iron fire poker. She had seen everything he did, and now he was going to kill her!

“I’m sorry, Pa,” she said, hurrying forward without him. “I’ll come back later, but I’ve got to go.”

She scampered up the servants’ stairs to the main floor and fled the house through the side door, headlong into the pouring rain.

Her running legs took her across the courtyard through the storm, the blustering wind buffeting her body as thunder and lightning crashed overhead.

When she reached the cover of the trees, she lunged forward and landed on four clawed feet.

Snarling with frustration, she raced through the forest, the wind and the rain whipping her face.

She had such power with these muscles, such sharpness in her teeth and claws.

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