Free Secrets of Moth (The Moth Saga, Book 3) by Daniel Arenson Page A

and
came rowing their way, Linee squealed with fright and ducked among
the rushes. Cam pulled her back up.
    "He seems friendly."
He waved to the man. "I think he wants to give us a lift."
    Moments later, they sat in the
fisherman's reed boat between baskets of tilapia. The man wore a
white cloak and hood, protecting him from the blazing sun, and a
scorpion bracelet circled his wrist. He chattered as he rowed them
north toward the city, but Cam could not understand the language.
    "Daenor?" the man
asked. "Sania? Naya?"
    Cam pointed at himself and
Linee. "We're from the kingdom of Arden."
    The fisherman raised his
eyebrows. "Arden?" He began to talk again in his tongue,
sounding amazed; the kingdom of Arden lay many miles in the north. As
far as Cam knew, he was the first Ardishman to have ever visited this
desert.
    As they sailed upriver, the
rivulets began to gather into a single stream—the mighty Kae. Fish
leaped in the water, a family of crocodiles stared from the rushes,
and when Linee gasped and pointed, Cam saw two hippopotamuses
battling in the distance. Storks and cranes cawed and flew overhead,
dipping to catch fish.
    Many vessels sailed around them.
Some were humble fishing boats carrying baskets of flapping tilapia
and perch. Others were galleys of many oars, bearing treasures from
distant lands: parti-colored parrots in cages, exotic plants in pots,
and jugs of wine. Cam cringed to see one ship ferrying men and women
clad in rags, metal collars around their necks—slaves.
    Soon the city of Kahtef appeared
upon the horizon, and Cam watched it approach. Sandstone walls grew
from an oasis of palm, fig, and sycamore trees. Scorpion banners beat
atop turrets, and upon the city battlements stood guards in
breastplates, round helms hiding their heads, spears and bows in
their hands. Behind the walls, Cam could make out the tips of tall,
narrow buildings capped with platinum. A gatehouse rose around the
river ahead; the water flowed between two towers and under a stone
arch, entering the city like a road through gates. It seemed to Cam a
city as exotic as anything he'd seen in the night.
    The fisherman pointed at
himself. "Izmat. Izmat." He pointed at Cam and Linee and
raised his eyebrows.
    Cam tore his eyes away from the
city. He pointed at himself. "I am Cam." He pointed at
Linee next. "This is Linee, my companion."
    Izmat grinned, showing crooked
teeth. "Ah! Cam and Linee! From Arden!"
    Cam cleared his throat. "Yes.
You speak a little Ardish?"
    The fisherman's grin widened.
"Little."
    With that, still a mile away
from the city, Izmat began to direct his boat toward the riverbank.
Rushes bent and slapped against the reed hull.
    "What are you doing?"
Cam crossed his arms. "I thought you're taking us to the city."
He pointed to the distant walls and towers. "Kahtef! To Kahtef."
    The
fisherman smiled, bobbed his head, and held up a finger as if to say: Just one moment.
    The
boat drove closer to the marshy bank. Rushes now rose several feet
high, hiding the world. Cam could no longer see other boats or the
distant city.
    "Maybe he has to go to the
bathroom," Linee said.
    Cam felt a chill, and his hand
strayed toward the hilt of his sword. "Maybe he wants to rob
us."
    When the boat drove into the
sandy riverbank, Izmat sprang out and landed between the rushes,
leaving Cam and Linee on the boat.
    "Cam and Linee from the
kingdom of Arden." Suddenly his accent was less pronounced. His
smile vanished, he reached between his robes, and he pulled out
something that looked like a long flute or hollow reed. "My
master, Ferius the Lord of Light, told me you would be arriving up
the delta."
    An amulet came free from Izmat's
robes. It was shaped as a round sunburst, sigil of Sailith. As he
raised the pipe to his lips, Cam understood what it was: not a flute
but a blowgun. Cam leaped sideways. Izmat blew into the tube. A dart
shot out.
    Cam glimpsed steel and red
feathers. As he jumped off the boat, the dart slashed through his
cloak.