The Exiled Queen by Cinda Williams Chima Read Free Book Online Page B

literally) frozen for another long moment while her courage drained away. This was wrong, her spying on him. Whatever was going on, he meant it to be private. She’d find another time to speak her mind. She’d go back to camp, sneak into her tent, and stay there until he returned.
    You’re just a coward, she thought.
    But before she could move, Amon paused in the midst of a sequence, the staff horizontal in front of him, his head cocked. He flipped the quarterstaff to a vertical position, turned, and looked directly at where Raisa was hiding.
    “Rai?” he whispered.
    Bones. How did he know? Timidly, she stepped out of the woods. They stood staring at each other across an expanse of frozen grass and stumpy shrubs.
    “I came looking for you,” she said finally. “I wondered what you were doing.”
    “You came by yourself? Where’s Hallie?” he demanded, looking around as if the other cadet might be hiding in the brush, too.
    Hallie’s supposed to be watching me, Raisa thought. So much for being just another soldier. “I slipped away. She thought I was in my tent.”
    “You shouldn’t have come. It’s not safe for you to be out here on your own.”
    “If it’s not safe for me, it’s not safe for you,” Raisa said. “Aren’t you cold?”
    “No. I’m not,” Amon said, as if it hadn’t occurred to him till then.
    The silence coalesced around them once more.
    “That’s impressive. What you were doing,” she said. “What is that called?”
    He studied the weapon in his hands as if he’d forgotten it was there. He seemed absent, distracted. “I learned it from the Waterwalkers. They call it sticking. Their staffs are made of ironwood—it grows in the marshes. They don’t use metal weapons, but a weighted staff is deadly in the hands of a stickmaster.” He shut his mouth, as if to cut off the flood of words—a whole month’s worth for him.
    “Were there Waterwalkers at the academy?” Raisa asked, surprised. “Was that where you learned it?”
    Amon shook his head. “No. I fostered in the Fens for six months during one of my terms at Wien House. I was sponsored by the marsh-lord, name of Cadri.”
    “Is this what you do every day? When you leave?”
    He hesitated, then nodded. “Pretty much. I — ah — train in different ways. It helps relieve the tension.”
    Tension? Raisa squinted at him. It was miserable, true, what with the rain and ice and wind and bad food and all. But it was more tedious than tense, in Raisa’s opinion. She almost wished something exciting would happen, to break the boredom.
    Was he really worried about an attack? That seemed unlikely, despite his warnings. They were still in the Fells, and Demonai Camp kept this area well patrolled. Besides, who would venture out in this weather if they didn’t have to?
    Perhaps it was just the stress of knowing his father was counting on him to keep the princess heir safe; of not knowing what would happen when they reached Oden’s Ford.
    It had been too long since they’d had any fun. Raisa yanked off her gloves and stuffed them inside her coat, then strode toward him.
    Amon flipped the staff horizontal, making a barrier between them. “We’d better get back to camp,” he said, jerking his head in that direction.
    Raisa stopped a foot away and looked up at him. “Amon. Could you teach me?”
    “Teach you what?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.
    “That battle dance. How to fight with a staff.” She took hold of the staff, slippery with ice. She couldn’t compete with his swordplay, but she could learn this.
    It would be like the old days. Amon had been her first weapons master.
    He shook his head. “It’s too heavy for you.”
    “You can take most of the weight. Just show me the moves. If it works out, I can always get something lighter.” She could see how it could work, using the staff. Being small wouldn’t matter so much when she had a long staff to leverage her reach and the strength of her blows. Once she had the