The caravan sets up for the night. You follow the boy and Tamina follows the girl into the lean-tos the nomads have quickly put into place. When you emerge, you see your armor being handed around and Tamina’s elegant gown draped around an old woman’s shoulders. You tuck the Dagger safely into your cloak.
Tamina appears wearing the dark skirts and cloak of the Shakshi.
As several men make a fire, the rest of the group chants, draws symbols in the sand, and makes odd gestures in the air.
“They have rituals for everything,” Tamina explains.
Then they do something even stranger—they bury your armor!
“That’s valuable stuff,” you exclaim. “If they don’t want it, I’ll take it back.”
The Shakshi stare at you. Several make gestures around you; others cower. Even more bizarre—Princess Tamina begins to dance.
“What are you doing?” you demand.
“Diplomacy,” she says through gritted teeth. Then she smiles at the group, and they all smile back at her. You, on the other hand, they don’t seem so crazy about.
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“And what about the Dagger,” you press.
“Given to the girl whose goodness won man his reprieve,” Tamina replies. “It’s meant to be used in defense of the Sandglass. The blade is the only thing that can pierce the glass and remove the Sands of Time. The handle only holds one minute.”
You look down at the weapon. “But if one were to place the Dagger in the Sandglass and press the jewel button at the same time . . .”
“Sand would flow through endlessly,” Tamina confirms.
You stare at her. “And you could turn back time as far as you like.”
Tamina puts her hand on your arm. “But it is forbidden!”
You nod as you put it all together. “When my father was a boy,” you tell her, “Nizam saved his life while hunting. It’s a story our father always repeated. It spoke of the strength of brotherhood.”
You shake your head, wincing at the irony, now that you understand. “My uncle means to go back in time and undo what he did. Not save my father! Let him die! That would make him king. For a lifetime.”
You and Tamina sit silently for a moment, considering everything. Then you realize how quiet it has become. “The storm’s passed,” you say.
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You hit the jewel on the Dagger. Everything stops.
Then it begins to rewind. The vipers disappear underneath the sand and everyone goes back to sleep. You take note of the vipers’ positions—including one you didn’t notice before that is headed straight for Tamina.
You take a quick breath, steel your nerves, and release the jewel. The rewind stops, with a little bit of sand still left in the Dagger’s handle.
The snakes instantly launch again, but now you’re ready for them. You swing the Dagger and the burning log, ducking and spinning. You singe one viper, set another on fire, then slice a third in midair.
Only one more! You recall the viper’s position and hurl the dagger—slicing the last snake in half as it leaps at Tamina.
The viper’s head lands near Shiekh Amar. He kicks it away.
“Persian,” Amar says in a shaking voice. “How—how did you do that?”
“Instincts,” you reply.
Tamina looks at the Dagger, then smirks at you. But she keeps her mouth shut.
You notice dark silhouettes on a distant ridge. Sand dervishes move across the moonlit desert.
“We have to get out of here!” you cry. “Now!”
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Sheikh Amar brings you into an underground salt mine. You seem to be standing at the edge of some kind of track. At one end, a large tattered Perisan rug hangs between two poles. Coming from behind it you hear screaming, shouting, chanting. You wonder what you’ve gotten yourself, and the princess, into. . . ?
A horrifying screech sends chills up your spine. The rug drops and . . .
They’re off! About fifteen gangly birds run at full speed, wearing numbers on their chests and jockeys on their backs.
You turn and stare at Amar. “Ostrich racing?”
“What they lack in beauty, they make up for in fighting spirit,” Amar says, grinning broadly. “And their races are easy to fix.”
You watch the birds round the bend, your mouth open.
“Not what you were expecting, Persian?” Amar raises an eyebrow.
“I’ve heard the stories . . .” you admit.
“The bloodthirsty slaves that murdered their masters?” Amar intones dramatically. He bursts out laughing. “A great story. But alas, untrue.”
“But the skeletons we saw,” you sputter.
Amar shrugs. “Bought from a Gypsy in Bukhara. The real mine owner choked on a date pit.”
You shake your head. Unbelievable!
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The guards bring you to the dungeon and shove you roughly into a cell. “Nizam was right,” one of them says as he slams the heavy iron gate shut. “He predicted you’d sneak in through that doorway.”
“You thought it was so secret,” another one scoffs. “Don’t you think as children you and your brothers were watched every moment? Whether you knew it or not?”
Moments later Nizam arrives. “Well, well, well,” he says. “Were you looking for this?” He pulls the Dagger from his cloak.
You furiously lunge for him through the bars. “You killed your own family!” you shout. “How could you do that?”
“It was remarkably easy,” Nizam tells you. He studies the Dagger. “All that struggle, all that death—over this. And in the end, I didn’t even need to use it.” He sheaths the dagger again. “All those who stood between me and the crown are gone.”
“I’m still here,” you remind him.
“The king’s murderer will be executed soon enough,” Nizam tells you. “The people will demand it.” He eyes you, a sly smile crossing his face. “Though I think I’ll keep you imprisoned a while. You’ve always been such a source of amusement to me.”
He turns and strides away from your cell. You sink down onto the cold stone floor.
You vow you will avenge your family. Somehow. Someday. If you ever get out of this dungeon in . . .
THE END.
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“We are victorious,” Roham tells you. And only now do you notice the Persian soldiers herding bound groups of Alamutians out of the city.
“That’s good news,” you say. “So why do you look so stricken?”
“Your brothers,” Roham says. He clamps his hands on your shoulders. “It is my burden to tell you they both died. They fought valiantly, but were cut down.”
You swallow hard and then ask, “But the city is secured?”
“Yes,” he assures you.
“Then I must get word to my father, King Sharaman. And to my uncle Nizam.”
“I can bring you to Nizam,” Roham says. “He’s in the war-council tent, just outside the city walls. He’s the one who sent me to find you.”
You follow numbly behind. Perhaps Nizam will offer some solace. And with luck, your father will join you soon.
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“That stew sounds good,” you tell her, keeping your voice level. “But I believe my horse would prefer hay. Is that something I can find here?”
Princess Tamina frowns, but makes no aggressive move. “I believe that can be arranged.”
“I’ll just wait here,” you tell her. “My horse and I could use a drink.” You grin. “And I could probably use a bath.”
Now she smiles. It makes her all the more beautiful. “I’ll be back.”
Princess Tamina returns with a bowl of stew, and a stocky man carries over an armful of hay.
“Our village is humble,” the man says, droppin
g the hay beside your horse. “But we will find you accommodations.”
“That won’t be necessary,” you say. “I think we’ll continue on our way.”
“You seem troubled,” Princess Tamina says. Her expression is concerned. “Is there something we can help you with?”
You shake your head. “This is something I need to do on my own,” you tell her.
She nods as if she understands. “We all must seek our destinies, no matter how long it takes. It can be a lonely and challenging journey. But so rewarding. I know.”
You have a feeling she does. Mounting your horse, you once again head out into the unknown.
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“Incredible,” you say, figuring it out yourself. “Releasing the sand turns back time. And only the holder of the Dagger is aware of what’s happened. He can go back, alter events, change time—and no one will know but him!”
You look up from the Dagger and stare at the princess. “How much can it unwind?”
She glares at you.
“Answer me, Princess!”
“You destroyed my city!” she shrieks at you.
“We had intelligence you were arming our enemies,” you spit back.
“You had the lies of Persian spies,” she says with a snarl.
Suddenly it all makes sense. Your grip tightens on the Dagger. “Our invasion wasn’t about weapon forges,” you say slowly. “It was about this Dagger.”
“Clever prince,” Tamina says bitterly.
You pace, all this information whirling around in your head. “After the battle, he asked for this Dagger as tribute. I didn’t think anything of it. It was Tus. He gave me the gift that killed our father. He stands to be crowned king. With this Dagger, he’d be invincible.” You gaze up at the sky, as if the stars hold answers. “Tus is behind it all. My brother.”
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“Douse your light,” you whisper to Yusef. “We need to know what we’re dealing with.”
Yusef nods, and you both press your torches into the cool damp earth, killing the flames. A glow emanates from around the corner. You creep toward it as silently as possible.
You round the bend and gasp, stunned by what you see.
A crackling bonfire casts dancing shadows around a large chamber. The flames illuminate an astonishing treasury! Piles of gold coins, chests brimming with golden statues, candelabras, platters, jewels of every description. Unusual weapons are mixed in with glittering diadems and tiaras. The gems sparkle in the firelight, nearly blinding you.
Three rough-looking men sit on an overturned chest by the fire. One of them must have heard your sharp intake of breath. His eyes flick your way.
In an instant he’s up and holding a scimitar.
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You land with a thud in the courtyard below. You hold up the Dagger, panting.
“You did it!” Tamina cries. Then she gasps. “But you’re hurt!”
She pulls one of the needles from your arm. In the heat of battle, you never even noticed it.
But the pain is only minimal. You have more important things to focus on. “Now to find Tus—make him understand the truth,” you say.
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“They’d want easy access to the forges and the weapons,” you figure. “Let’s take the tunnel running parallel to the street.”
You hurry along the passageway. There’s a sharp turn ahead. You step around the corner and . . . “Whoa!” you cry.
There’s no ground beneath your feet! You drop your torch into the deep chasm below as you scramble to save yourself from falling.
It’s no use. You claw, you scratch, you kick, but you still plummet deep down into the bowels of the earth.
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Tamina’s words have opened your eyes. You realize now that she and the Dagger are part of a larger destiny. Bigger than you and your need to clear your name.
“All right, Princess,” you say. “We’ll do it your way.”
Relief floods her features. “Thank you.” She holds out her hand for the Dagger.
“I don’t think so.” You slip it back into your belt. You know if she gets the Dagger she’ll ditch you, leaving you alone in an unfamiliar landscape. And you need her to come back with you once this is all finished to help you prove your innocence.
You head north, and the terrain grows more treacherous. As you climb into the mountains a strange mist descends. You can barely see more than a few feet in front of you.
“Are we going the right way?” you ask.
“It’s hard for me to find the landmarks in this mist,” Tamina admits.
You stop for the night, hoping the mist will dissipate by morning.
As you had hoped, visibility has greatly improved by dawn the next day. But Tamina is worried. “I’ve never seen that village before,” she says, pointing to the valley below. “We took a wrong turn somewhere.”
“Maybe someone there can help us get back on track,” you suggest. You mount Aksh and Tamina climbs up behind you. You slowly enter the village.
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“You know me,” you say to the crowd. “You know my love for my father. Why would I murder him? I would have nothing to gain!”
“Believe him!” Princess Tamina strides onto the stage. You can tell the crowd is taken with her beauty and her spirit. “Nizam orchestrated the siege against my city, a sacred site. All to take possession of this Dagger. He thought it would give him unlimited power!
“Dastan has behaved with honor,” Princess Tamina continues. “I believe him innocent of any crimes of which he is accused.” She whirls and glares at Nizam. “And accuse you of the most base treachery!”
Now a cry goes up: “Dastan! Dastan! Dastan!”
At first, you fear they are calling for your head. Then you spot Seso and Amar in the crowd, egging everyone on.
You take center stage. “Princess Tamina,” you say, holding out the Dagger. “I believe this belongs to you.”
She takes it from you, blinking back tears. You take her hand and turn so you’re both facing the enormous crowd. “My family will not have died in vain!” you declare. “I make this vow to you that we shall forever live in peace from this day forward.”
As the crowd cheers and shouts around you, you look at Tamina. “Your father would have been proud,” she says. “This moment is what you were destined for.”
You smile. For once, you think, the princess might be right!
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You pull back the blanket to reveal dawn breaking over the desert. You help your horse get back up onto its hooves.
“Dastan,” Tamina says, her voice urgent. “The sands contained within the Sandglass are volatile. Opening the Dagger while it’s in the chamber breaks the seal. It could destroy the Sandglass. The Sands of Time would no longer be contained. And all of mankind would pay for Nizam’s lust for power.”
You look into her dark eyes. Is she finally telling you the truth? Or is this just another trick to get the Dagger back?
“The secret Guardian Temple outside Alamut is a sanctuary,” she continues. “The Dagger must be delivered back to the safety of this sacred home. It’s the only way to stop this Armageddon.” She gazes up at you, her eyes filled with worry and pain. “That’s the truth, Dastan. Give me back the Dagger so I can take it there.”
You breathe in and out trying to decide. Then you slip the Dagger back into your belt. “I’m sorry, Princess. I can’t do that.”
Tamina stumbles back a step, her face flushed with fury and outrage.
Before she can light into you, you say, “I’m coming with you.”
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It suddenly occurs to you that th
e village is awfully quiet. It seems . . . empty. Sheikh Amar goes to look around. You spot a hut with its door open. Tamina sees it as well and runs toward it.
You follow her and come across a horrifying sight. Four dead bodies are slumped against the house. They look to be priests.
Tamina gasps and drops to her knees. Clearly these people meant something to the princess. You put your hand on her shoulder.
Seso utters what sounds like a prayer, then says, “They have been dead a long time. Tortured first.”
You study the bodies more carefully. “These wounds aren’t from normal weapons.”
“Hassansins?” Seso asks.
You nod grimly. “They were here. Nizam knows about this place.”
Amar returns. “All dead,” he reports. “The entire village.”
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That night, all but two guards are asleep. Although you’re still bound, you try to think of some way to get the Dagger back and escape Sheikh Amar’s grasp.
Seso has made himself a pillow by wrapping your sword and the dagger in his cloak. You’re going to have to come up with something pretty amazing to get out of there alive—and with the princess and the dagger.
Wind blows through the camp. Aksh whinnies, disturbed by something.
Then you see why. A pit viper emerges from the sand in front of Seso. It rises up, forked tongue flickering. It coils to strike. You leap up and hurl a smoldering log. The snake goes flying into the darkness.
Seso stares at you. You can see that he knows you just saved his life. But there’s no time for a thank you. Four furrows of sand weave through the camp.
“Give me the Dagger,” you demand.
You hold out your bound hands. Seso hesitates, then his eyes grow wide when he sees the undulating furrows.
To Right a Wrong Page 8
