She is . . . your ancestor.
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Accompanied by a lone guard, you hurry to the gates that lead out of the city. Your mind is reeling. Just get the Dagger, you tell yourself. Worry about everything else once that’s accomplished.
You hear men cheering and shouting. It seems like a good place to start. You follow the sound around the corner and find a group of soldiers crowded together. They’re placing bets as two men face each other. Each wields a massive barrel-shaped club. They clobber each other. The smaller fighter is taking the brunt of the blows, but he’s holding his own. As he spins and lashes out, you recognize him.
It’s Prince Dastan.
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How dare he! You let out a shriek and fling yourself at Dastan, but he easily overpowers you.
“You know, I was going to help you,” he says through gritted teeth. “But I’m sick and tired of your constant attacks!”
He shoves you away.
Your heart sinks. You were so close to retrieving the Dagger! What can you do?
“Please . . .” you begin.
Dastan holds up a hand to stop you. “Not another word. If you say one more thing, not only will I take the Dagger away, I’ll leave you here alone in the desert.”
That shuts you up. Then you come up with a great idea.
You throw yourself at him again and grab at the Dagger in his belt. But you don’t try to yank it away—you just press the jewel in the handle. All you want to do is release a few grains of sand.
Just enough to go back in time—and not attack him!
GO BACK TO PAGE 74 and make a different choice!
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You see Nizam enter. You feel Dastan stiffen beside you. He steps out of the shadows. You watch as the two men face each other in the glowing light of the Sandglass, swords drawn.
You have to do something. But what?
“You murdered your own family!” Dastan cries. “King Sharaman was your brother!”
“And my curse!” Nizam snaps back.
The ground rumbles as another earthquake hits. You steady yourself against the column and watch in fear as pieces of the ceiling cave in. Nizam lashes at Dastan with the Dagger, slashing him across the gut. To your horror there’s another quake—and this time the floor breaks away!
You scream as Dastan drops into a crevasse, his arms and legs windmilling wildly. He grabs a jagged rock and stops his fall.
Nizam clutches the massive structure that holds the Sandglass. He begins to crawl up the platform.
“Go no further!” you shout at him. You have to stop him. But how? There’s an enormous chasm between you and the Sandglass.
There is another cataclysmic quake, and the column beside you starts to topple.
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How could I have let him get away with the Dagger? you think, berating yourself. You scan the area, then spot him dashing across the rooftops. Is he insane?
You rush after the procession, banging into people, slipping in and out of the crowd. You’ve lost sight of Dastan, but you have no doubt where he is headed—to his uncle at the front of the royal retinue.
You frantically dodge horse hooves and guards, desperate now. What if Dastan gets caught? Who will take possession of the Dagger then?
Beads of sweat trickle down your back as you ignore the crush of mourners and continue to run. A cloaked man keeps step beside you. You try to lose him, but the street is too narrow here.
“Difficult but not impossible,” the man says.
You glance up—into Dastan’s face! You scowl. “Or more proof that you’re insane!”
He grins, and you know that he got his message through.
Well, if nothing else, Prince Dastan is certainly resourceful!
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As you enter the grand room, you see that Prince Dastan is giving the king a gift. You watch as the king lifts up a prayer robe— the prayer robe of your own regent! The king smiles and puts it on as, silently, you seethe.
“What can I give you in return?” the king asks Prince Dastan.
Dastan gestures to you. “This is Princess Tamina,” he says. “My brother Tus wishes to make a union with her people through marriage. It’s my deepest wish that this win your approval.”
The king studies you a moment, then stands and bows his head. “In all my travels I’ve never laid eyes on a more beautiful city, Your Highness.”
“You should have seen it before your horde of camel-riding illiterates descended upon it,” you reply. Then you add, shooting Dastan a glare, “But thank you for noticing, Your Highness.”
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Where the Dagger goes, you go. So that means you must help Dastan. You see a guard sneaking up behind the prince, sword drawn. Grabbing the nearest heavy object—a brass vase—you charge into the fray.
Thunk! You slam the vase into the guard’s head, and he drops to the ground. As the man falls, you whirl and fling the vase into the face of another guard.
Dastan stares at you, stunned, then grabs you by the waist. He yanks you clear as a sword whistles by. It misses you by just a few inches. Then he drags you onto the balcony. You let out a shriek as he pulls you up and over the banister!
Splash! You land in the fountain in the courtyard below.
You scramble back up to your feet, hair streaming, clothes heavy with water.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Dastan sputters.
“You may occupy this city,” you tell him, “but you don’t know its secrets. I can get us out of here!”
Not waiting for an answer, you head to the stables to find a ride, Dastan close behind.
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“You’ll never even make it to Avrat,” you call after him. “Your plan is suicide!”
Dastan stops the horse and turns to look at you, his eyes burning. “My brother murdered my father and framed me for the crime. If I die trying to set that right, so be it.” He faces forward and Aksh starts walking again.
“You’re going to leave me here? In the middle of nowhere?” you shout. How can he ignore you this way? After you helped him escape, he’s just going to abandon you?
Begging isn’t working. You try another tack. “Noble Dastan,” you say, your voice dripping with disdain and sarcasm, “abandoning a helpless woman in the wilderness? What does your precious honor say about that?”
You must have gotten to him. The horse comes to a stop.
You run to catch up. As much as you hate it, you have to accompany him as he tries to clear his name. You have to go where the Dagger goes, even if it’s into the dreaded Valley of the Slaves. At least, until you come up with some other plan.
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You decide the best way to stay dry is by getting to higher ground. Astrella resists a bit, but you take the tunnel that has a pathway leading sharply up.
The slope is steep, but the ground isn’t muddy at all. In fact, you realize, thanks to the light shed by the torch, soon the dirt gives way to . . . tiles?
Bewildered, you continue on. Could someone live here?
You grow apprehensive. Maybe you should turn around. Yet you’re so curious. And the tile—something about it looks familiar. The colors and patterns remind you of the decorative mosaics in the High Temple of Alamut. Could this be another Guardian outpost?
You’ve never heard of one, though. And Astrella is definitely nervous.
What should you do?
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If you think this is far too strange and you want to turn around, TURN TO PAGE 83
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Inside the city, crowds line the streets, letting out a
mournful wail as the ornate wagon carrying the king’s body passes. You keep your eye on Dastan as he watches the royal contingent. You recognize the bald man, Nizam, as his uncle. But you don’t see his brothers.
Dastan seems concerned by their absence as well. “He’s not coming,” he says. “Tus is still in Alamut.” He whirls to face you. “The sand that fuels the Dagger. There’s more of it hidden there!”
He studies your face. You sigh and nod. There’s no point in pretending.
“That’s why Tus stays there. That’s what our army is searching for!” He turns to watch the procession again. “I have to send my uncle a message to meet me.”
You point out the bodyguards surrounding his uncle. “That’s impossible!”
But it’s too late—Dastan’s gone!
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“Let’s stand and fight,” you decide. “I don’t want to keep looking over my shoulder, wondering when they’ll be back.”
“You do realize there are only two of us, and many of them,” Kartosh says.
“I will understand if you want to run,” you say. “I won’t make you fight my battles.”
Kartosh makes a tut-tut sound. “Stop playing it so tough, girl. I told you I’d help, and I stick to my word.” He dismounts and begins digging in the dirt. You give him a confused look. “I said I’d help!” he scolds. “I didn’t say I’d take care of this single-handedly.”
You climb down from Astrella. “What are we doing?” you ask, dropping down beside him.
“Making an army,” he says. That’s when you realize he’s molding the dirt into soldiers! Just as he did with his horse, he’s bringing these mud beings into life!
He says an incantation, and suddenly you are surrounded by dozens of fierce warriors.
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“We’re in this together,” Dastan says.
You nod. You can’t argue with him anymore—it will waste time.
“Follow exactly in my footsteps,” you instruct him. “Exactly!”
“I heard you the first time,” Dastan snaps.
“Nothing can touch the surface other than where I step.” You hope he understands how serious this is.
He nods and you begin the careful walk across the chamber, first this way, then that. All around you the rumbling continues. You fear the entire structure will collapse before you can get to the Sandglass!
You make it safely to the cupola and race down the winding stairs leading deep underground. You dodge falling debris as you run through the final tunnel. You hear Dastan following right behind you. You stop suddenly and signal him to stay back. You both duck behind a column and peer out.
Towering over the massive chamber is the gigantic Sandglass.
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You can’t abandon Dastan. You turn to face the Hassansins, gripping the Dagger.
The Persian army, which just a moment ago had their weapons trained on you, now start fighting the Hassansins. Dastan fights beside his brother; Seso and Amar bravely face the enemy with whatever they can get their hands on to use as weapons.
But it seems the pit vipers are trained to seek out the Dagger. They ignore your friends and head straight to you. Very quickly they surround you.
You slash at them, but it’s no use. There are too many of them. The moment you kill one, another bites you. Then another. With weakening strength you watch first Garsiv, then Seso and Amar, and finally Prince Dastan, all succumb. Even the Persian guards with their crossbows can’t outfight the vicious Hassansins.
You can’t fight anymore either; the poison is rushing through your veins. Your knees buckle, and you collapse to the ground. The last thing you remember, before your eyes shut forever, is someone prying the Dagger from your fingers.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper to the gods, your ancestor, and perhaps most of all, to Prince Dastan.
THE END
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When you come to, you’re alone and the Dagger is gone. You wonder how long you’ve been out.
You slowly find your way out of the cave, not knowing what you’ll discover. Not knowing what to do next. You see that a terrible slaughter took place outside. The Hassansins are gone.
You find Dastan, kneeling beside his dead brother Garsiv.
“I’m sorry,” you tell him.
“At the end, he believed me,” Dastan says, his eyes full of pain. “Saved me, even.”
You nod.
Now he looks at you more closely. “The Dagger?”
“It’s gone,” you confess. You feel so defeated, so . . . lost. “Protect the Dagger. No matter the consequences. That was my sacred duty. That was to be my destiny.”
You look away, unable to meet his gaze. You don’t want him to see the confusion and hopelessness in your eyes.
“We make our own destiny, Princess,” Dastan declares. He takes your face in his hands and turns it. He looks deeply into your eyes. “We’ll get it back,” he promises.
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Later that day, you accompany Dastan to the stables at the edge of the bazaar. This is where he is to meet with his uncle. His plan is to prove his innocence, but you have a plan of your own.
Dastan studies the crowd, and you realize he’s spotted his uncle. The hooded man picks up a pomegranate. Dastan sidles up to him.
“You used to buy those for me when I was a boy,” Dastan says.
“You would spit the seeds at Garsiv,” the man replies, lowering his hood. Yes, it’s Nizam. “You should not have asked me here, Dastan.”
“I had no choice, Uncle.”
Dastan grips his uncle’s arm and nods at you. You nod back. Then he pulls Nizam into an empty livestock room. You stand where he can see you, acting as bodyguard.
For a few moments, anyway, you watch, but once they seem to be engaged in deep conversation you slip away. With the Dagger.
I wonder how Dastan will react when he discovers I replaced the Dagger with the sultan’s silver nutcracker, you think. For a moment you feel a pang of regret—then shake it off.
You have to get the Dagger to safety. Let Dastan fend for himself.
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You take a deep breath, focus, and race at the wall. You leap up and press off the wall with one foot, sending all your energy upward. You graze the wall with your other foot, twist in midair above Roham’s head, and plant your foot again. The momentum brings you over him, and you push off again—this time somersaulting back to the ground. Amazingly, you land on your feet.
You did it!
Dastan gapes at you, but he’s clapping as hard as everyone else. “Maybe I should take lessons from you,” he says.
“Now for the promise,” you remind him. “You said you’d give the man anything he wants.”
“I said I’d give it to the man,” Dastan says, stepping closer to you. He brings his lip to your ear and whispers, “not to the princess.” He looks down at your bare feet and ankles. “Interesting tattoos.”
Fear races through you like cold water. He knows.
You step away from him. “The prince is going back on his promise?” you demand. “I had no idea he had no honor.”
Now the crowd begins to taunt Dastan, though they seem pretty good-natured. They’re his men, after all.
But Dastan holds up a hand to quiet them. “I would never go back on a wager. Tell me, sir,” he says, his eyes twinkling with amusement, “what is it you would like?”
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You force yourself not to smirk as Dastan reluctantly hands you the Dagger.
“Good luck with such a deceitful wretch as your bride,” Dastan says to Tus as he stomps out of the room.
“Thank you,” you say to Tus, slipping the Dagger into the waistband of your skirt. �
��It is nice to know that there are honorable Persians.”
Tus smiles and gives you a little nod. “I hope this will set things straight with your maidservant’s family.”
“Everything will be all right now,” you say. “Of that I’m certain.”
You head to your chamber, and as you turn a corner you run into Prince Dastan.
“You may have won this round, Princess,” he snarls, “but be warned. I will be keeping watch. You harm any of my family and I will make you pay.”
You can tell by his ferocious expression that he means every word he says. You have made a powerful enemy. Yet you feel drawn to him—and his conviction.
You cannot let that worry you. Because the next thing you need to plan is your escape from the marriage.
But after how easily you retrieved the Dagger, you have no doubt you will find a way. Your role as a Guardian of the Dagger of Time has been tested, and you succeeded admirably in protecting it. You won’t allow something as silly as a political marriage to keep you from your true destiny.
Not even a prince as handsome and courageous as Dastan.
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No one notices you as you scurry out of the palace compound. If I were a prince, where would I spend my time? you wonder. Then bitterness stabs your heart. The correct question is: where would an invading Persian celebrate his cruel victory?
You push down your anger, mixed as it is with sorrow, and try to think. Often you’ve heard of soldiers celebrating in the taverns. Working men, too. If nothing else, there’d be talk. Dressed as one of them, the men may very well talk to you.
You rarely travel beyond the safety and comfort of the palace compound, other than on an occasional trip accompanied by guards. You feel a wave of excitement at being able to explore while unrecognized and virtually unseen. Then you remind yourself of your true task: to protect the Dagger, no matter the consequences.
The Guardian's Path Page 8
