The Guardian's Path
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Printed in the United States of America
First Edition
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J689-1817-1-10060
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number on file.
ISBN 978-1-4231-2700-0
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Table of Contents
Instructions
Prologue
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In your hands you hold an object of great power. It has the ability to alter the course of history. The choices YOU make with this item will impact moments in time, fateful events, and could even mean the difference between life and death for those closest to you.
As Princess Tamina, will you fulfill your destiny and save the Dagger? OR will you become just another victim of the Persian Empire’s reign? These, and countless other choices are yours to make. Will you find your path or will you be lost forever?
It’s YOUR call.
This object allows you to follow the story of your choosing. You may be told to simply turn the page, or you may have options. Just be sure to read until you come to the prompt. In some cases, you will see prompts at the top of the page as well as at the bottom. That indicates there are several ways you could have reached the page you are reading. If you want to go back to see how you got there, click on the top prompt.
Click here to GO TO THE PROLOGUE
Prologue
You were born with a sacred duty—a destiny. Like your ancestors, you have a responsibility so great there have been times you wondered if the burden was too much to bear. For you, Princess Tamina, are charged with protecting the very fabric of time—as a Guardian. You have been given the task of keeping the secrets of the Sandglass of Time safe and of protecting its mystical Dagger.
However, you fear now that all your beliefs are about to be tested. The barbaric Persians are outside the gates of your holy city of Alamut, putting the Dagger in danger. You hope you will be able to rise to this moment and live up to your destiny.
You stand in your chamber as your attendants paint you with sacred henna tattoos.
“Princess Tamina,” a voice says.
You turn to see the Regent of Alamut, bearded and bent with age, standing in the doorway.
“Enter,” you say. The Regent steps into your lush chamber. You don’t like the serious expression on his face; it bodes trouble.
“The Persian army, my princess,” he says. “It has not moved on. I fear—”
You cut him off. “Show me,” you say.
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You walk briskly outside and out along the ramparts of Alamut’s walls. The Regent and your bodyguards hurry to keep up. The stars glitter in the dark sky, but clouds cover the moon, making even these well-known walkways seem ominous.
Now you see other flickering lights—below you, on the ground. Fires from the Persian camp. They are preparing for an attack, you are certain.
“My princess,” the Regent calls, “perhaps it would be safer if you didn’t stand so close to the edge.”
You clutch the rough stone, drumming your fingers. Their numbers are great; but your convictions are greater.
“Gather council,” you tell the Regent. “Tell them I sit in the High Temple. I must pray.” You turn from the rampart and head up a winding staircase.
The Regent follows behind you, confused. “The High Temple? Alamut hasn’t been breached in a thousand years.” He does not say it aloud but you know his concern—that the Persians will take the city and discover its secrets.
“Everything changes in time,” you say, without breaking stride. “We should know this best of all.”
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The ornate High Temple sits above the city, nestled among the clouds. You spend the night in prayer with your retinue, seeking the strength and wisdom you’ll need to face what’s to come.
At dawn, an Alamutian soldier bursts into your sanctuary. “Persians have breached the eastern gates!” he cries.
All eyes turn to you. “Collapse the passages to the chamber,” you order. “Go now, all of you.” They file out of the temple, casting worried glances at you. Only a tall, elegant warrior stays behind. This is your trusted advisor, Asoka.
“Above all else,” you say, repeating the words you’ve heard all your life, “it must be saved. Yes, Asoka?”
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br /> “Yes, Princess,” Asoka says.
You kneel before an ornate column. You touch your forehead to the floor and stretch out your arms. You whisper the ancient words. There is a soft rumble, and a radiant light pours out of the column as it swings open.
You stand and step inside the revealed tabernacle. You take a glowing dagger from its resting place and wrap it in an embroidered cloth. It is more powerful than anyone might imagine.
The Dagger must be kept safe.
Should you give it to Asoka to take out of the city or should you do it yourself?
If you give it to Asoka to take to the Guardian Temple in the North, TURN TO PAGE 10
If you believe you should take it yourself, TURN TO PAGE 85
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You and Dastan have been riding all day. Up ahead you see a welcome sight: an oasis! The lush greens and blues stand out in high relief against the sandy desert.
“Our journey is blessed,” you say. “We’ll stop for water, push for the mountain pass by nightfall.”
“I think you’re enjoying telling me what to do a little too much,” Dastan complains, but he grins at you.
You grin back. You are finally heading in the right direction. You’re glad you told him the truth.
The oasis is beautiful, full of tall grasses, wildflowers, and a rippling blue pool. Aksh drinks thirstily as you and Dastan fill the canteens. You hear a rustling sound and look up. Right into the face of a gawky ostrich. You stare at it. It stares at you.
As you try to understand what this means, Sheikh Amar and his armed men step out of the bushes. All of their weapons are drawn. The last time you saw this man, you ruined his ostrich-racing ring and caused a riot among his people.
Uh-oh.
“We parted under rushed circumstances,” Amar says coldly. “We never got a chance to say good-bye.”
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With the guard by your side, you make your way back to the palace. You grip the Dagger, the feel of the handle giving you courage.
Nizam gave you two days until the king’s arrival. Maybe he won’t suspect you accomplished your mission so quickly. You need to get out of the city before he knows you have the Dagger.
When you’re alone, you slip out of the palace through one of the side entrances, desperately hoping that no one realizes it’s you, as you are still in servant’s clothes. You’re going to need a horse, provisions . . . it’s a long way to go to bring the Dagger to safety at the Guardian Temple in the north.
You duck into an alley to gather your thoughts. Three large men with weapons appear opposite you. “Just where do you think you’re going, Princess?” one of them growls. How did they recognize you?
“We’re to take you to Nizam,” another one says. He had you followed! “And if you put up any argument, he has instructed us to relieve you of the Dagger in any way necessary. He intends to use it the moment the king arrives, and to see his plan through.”
Nizam knew you had the Dagger. The guard must have seen Dastan give it to you and reported it to Nizam. Have you gotten the Dagger just to lose it again?
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That night you fall into a restless sleep. At dawn the next morning, you wake to find Dastan tearing a blanket into strips.
“What are you doing?” you ask.
He kneels down and wraps the fabric around Aksh’s hooves. “Garsiv can’t be far behind,” he explains. “Aksh is the most famous horse in the empire. This will obscure his tracks.”
“Tracks where?” you ask. “Where are you going?”
Dastan works quickly, anxious to get moving. “The holy city of Avrat, where Persian kings are buried. My uncle Nizam will be there for my father’s funeral. He’s the only one I can trust. He’ll listen to me, see I was set up by Tus.”
He climbs onto Aksh. You step in front of the horse.
“You’re wanted for the king’s murder,” you say. “And you’re going to march into his funeral, alongside thousands of Persian soldiers?”
“Step aside, Princess,” Dastan says.
You stand your ground. “Every road to Avrat will be covered with Persian troops—”
“I’m not taking roads,” Dastan says, cutting you off. “I’m going through the Valley of the Slaves.”
You gape at him. “You’ve got to be joking! I’ve heard servants whispering of it. No one goes near that wasteland—it’s filled with murdering cutthroats!”
“So they say.” Dastan kicks the horse, and it brushes past you.
He’s leaving you here? And taking the Dagger with him!
You have to stop him.
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Dastan looks as though he is about to say something when suddenly the valley fills with the sound of thundering hoofbeats.
The Persian cavalry bursts through the treeline. You and Dastan try to run, but you’re quickly surrounded. Persian guards aim crossbows at you as you stand in front of the farmhouse.
Dastan’s brother, Prince Garsiv, strides toward you.
“Garsiv, listen to me!” Dastan cries. “Nizam is the traitor! He’s the one who poisoned Father’s robe. He’s after the crown! And he’s brought back the Hassansins!”
Then you see the twisting sand funnels. “Oh, no,” you say, breathing hard. “They’re here.”
Seven Hassansins charge toward you on powerful black stallions. Their chain-mail cloaks and terrifying array of weapons glint in the sun, making you squint. They will descend upon you in moments.
Do you stay and fight or do you use their arrival as a diversion to take the Dagger into the temple?
If you stay and fight, TURN TO PAGE 112
If you sneak away to the temple, TURN TO PAGE 41
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“What does Nizam want with the princess? And her dagger?” a voice behind you asks.
You turn to see Prince Dastan—and he’s not alone. Several of his men are with him.
Without a word, Nizam’s men take off running. You’re not sure if they’re afraid of fighting Dastan and his men or if they’re off to warn Nizam that he’s been exposed.
“What are you doing here?” you ask the prince.
“You got me thinking,” he says. “Your worry seemed sincere. So I followed you, to see what you would do next. I’m sorry to say that you’re right—Nizam is up to something. Not sure what or why— but if he’s willing to kill you over a dagger and has a plan we know nothing of, well, perhaps we shouldn’t trust him.” He turns to his men. “Have Nizam brought to my brothers and I. We need to question him.”
“Thank you,” you say.
“So, tell me, what’s so special about the Dagger?” he asks.
“Now, Prince,” you tease, “allow a girl some secrets.”
He gives you a puzzled but amused look. Perhaps when you return from bringing the Dagger to the Guardian Temple, you can get to know Prince Dastan better. And perhaps someday you will even tell him the story of the Dagger. Perhaps . . .
THE END
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This is a dangerous, violent storm. You need to take cover fast. The caves are a lot closer than the city. You quickly guide Astrella into the nearest one. The storm has her very jumpy. You dismount and soothe her as best you can.
The rain pours down, and outside the hard ground is quickly turning into mud. Unfortunately so is the ground inside the cave. That’s when you realize the cave is on lower ground than the path leading to it. Rain is quickly seeping in.
“Come on, Astrella,” you say, taking her reins, “let’s move farther back.”
The sky is very dark as the storm worsens, making it nearly impossible to see inside the cave. You wish you had a lantern or even just a few matches. You hate how vulnerable you feel, not being able to see your surroundings. There could be bats, snakes, lizards, cobwebs, spiders, monsters, demons. . . .
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“You know what must be done,” you tell Asoka.
He takes the wrapped dagger from you and nods. You watch as he leaves, hoping you’ve made the right choice. You silently wish him a safe journey as you bring your veil down to cover your face.
You light the sweet incense, and the pungent smoke twists around you. You don’t know how much time has passed when you hear heavy footsteps behind you.
“Silly songs and scented smoke will do little for you now,” a gruff Persian soldier says. He knocks over an incense burner.
Cat quick, you kick up a knife concealed beneath the hearth and neatly catch it. Before you can use it, an older Persian with a bald head grabs your wrist.
“Perhaps there’s a bit more to her than that, eh, Garsiv?” the older man says. He laughs and takes the knife from you.
Another Persian steps forward and uses the tip of his sword to move your veil aside. “So,” he says, “for once the stories are true.”
You glare at him, knowing he’s referring to your reputation for being a beauty. As if something so superficial could matter in a time like this!
Now a young and handsome Persian soldier rushes into the room. Your eyes lock for a moment. He seems out of breath, as if he’s been fighting. Of course they’ve all been fighting, you remind yourself. They’ve been fighting your people!
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The sky is illuminated with lightning flashes. You continue to walk through the maze of stalls, growing more and more puzzled and apprehensive. Could they have been abandoned because of a disease? A natural disaster? It’s as if one day they all just walked away.
The skin on the back of your neck prickles. You can’t see very well, but suddenly you have the sense that you aren’t alone.
There’s another resounding crash of thunder and explosion of lightning and you gasp. The lightning flash revealed someone hovering nearby. Watching you.
“Who are you?” you call. You don’t want to get too close. You don’t trust anyone who sneaks up on you, observes you silently. “Why don’t you answer?” you demand. You reach for the Dagger, prepared to defend yourself.