The Exiled Queen by Cinda Williams Chima

THE
    FENS
    After the encounter with the renegade guards on the western slope, Raisa worried they’d have more trouble at Westgate. But when they arrived at the West Wall in the early morning, Mac Gillen was nowhere to be seen. The guards at the gate were mostly regular army, a mixture of gray-jacketed Highlanders and mercenaries with striped trim.
    The sergeant in charge was a Queen’s Guardsman, though, named Barlow. When Amon told Barlow that they were cadets traveling to Oden’s Ford via Westgate, the sergeant greeted him with derision.
    “So you don’t want to go through Arden, eh? You cadets wouldn’t want to get your uniforms dirty, would you?” he said, rolling his eyes. “Wouldn’t want to have to blood your shiny new weapons before you show ’em off at school.”
    It was the typical disdain of the line soldier for the academy-bred. The members of the Wolfpack seethed, but Amon ignored it. He’d seemed preoccupied, having even less to say than usual since the incident with Sloat and the rescue by the Demonai warriors.
    Disappointed that Amon didn’t rise to the bait, Barlow added, “Well, Corporal, if you think this way’s safer than travelin’ through Arden, you’ll soon find out different.”
    “What do you mean?” Amon asked, finally granting Barlow his full attention.
    The sergeant spat on the ground. “The new road is gone. The Waterwalkers done wrecked it. They heaved a mess of boulders into there.”
    Amon stared at him. “What? I helped build that road. Why would they do that?”
    “The Waterwalkers been raiding over the border, stealing livestock and food,” Barlow said. “We put a stop to it, so they busted up the road. Nowdays, if you want to get down to the Fens, you have to take the old road. An’ that means climbin’ down over the cliff and clinging to the icy rocks by your toenails. Them horses’ll never make it.”
    “I still don’t see why they’d destroy the road,” Amon persisted. “It was built just a year and a half ago. It seems like they’d be hurting themselves.”
    The sergeant shrugged, not meeting Amon’s eyes. “Guess we an’t welcome there no more. Anyways, if you do manage to climb down without breaking your necks, you’ll find out why they call it the Shiverin’ Fens. You’ll be shivering all right. You’ll wish you’d gone the other way. Them Waterwalkers’ll have you crying for your mommies.”
    “I assume you’re speaking from experience, sir?” Raisa asked. This drew grins from the other Wolves and a warning look from Amon.
    “I was there just a little more than a year ago,” Amon said to Barlow, “and had no trouble. I stayed at Rivertown and Hallowmere.”
    “You did, did you?” The sergeant wet his lips and swallowed. “Well, there’s trouble now. Skirmishes all along the border. Bad blood all around.”
    “Is it really as bad as that?” Raisa asked. “We’ve not heard anything about this in the capital.”
    “You listen to me, cadet,” Barlow said, his jowly face pinking up with anger. “The Waterwalkers, they got special plans for such morsels as you. They’ll feed you to the watergators. That’s how they sacrifice to their gods.”
    “There are no such things as watergators, sir,” Raisa said, rolling her eyes.
    The sergeant snorted. “Aye, you say that now. We’ll see what you say later. If you’re alive to make the report. Them watergators grow to be a hunnert feet long with teeth the size of broadswords and just as sharp. I spoke to a man saw one swallow a pole boat whole, with everybody on board.”
    “We’ll be careful, sir,” Amon said. “Thank you for the warning. Now move along, Morley,” he said to Raisa. “Or you’ll be the one raising tents in the dark.”
    Now what? Raisa wondered. Are we going to walk all the way to Oden’s Ford? If we can’t take the horses along, we won’t have a choice.
    The sergeant raised his hand. “Just a minute,” he said. “You there. Lady cadets. What’s your