I've been so horrible, I'm sorry. Just about every review has been about the cliffie, and wanting to know soon what happens next (I tried to respond when I could-second sorry to guest reviewers-and let people know I was going to get this done if it was the last thing I did). Special shout out to those of you who have stuck through the waiting, as well as the recent ones liking and following, since you managed to find this story even though it's been so long since I've updated! Currently I'm trying to decide if I need any more wrap up, or if this rounds out the story as it is. Thoughts welcome. Fair warning, my whole October schedule is about to be ridiculous, if it ends up looking like I should do another chapter.


Heat cocooned Dastan, so much so that sweat covered his skin, plastered his hair to his face and neck. He didn't feel any bandages this time. Aside from a dull ache that radiated along with the fever, he had no frame of reference for what had happened. The corners of the room hid behind darkness that pressed in on the faltering glow of candles.

His throat was parched again. Before he could attempt to speak, however, Tamina's anxious face hovered into view. Her expression relaxed considerably when she saw that he was indeed awake. She also held a finger to her lips, and pointed.

Dastan groggily turned his head. King Sharaman slept propped up by a high-backed chair, snoring softly. Confused and worried, Dastan looked back at Tamina.

"You've been unconscious for two days. The echo passed by the first morning, but the fever persisted. Since we didn't know…how it would turn out, I couldn't deny your family the right to see you," she explained in a whisper.

"My brothers…?" Dastan finally rasped. The princess reached for something nearby, held it up for him. He gratefully accepted the cool water.

"They have visited regularly, when not carrying out duties for your father."

"How much do they know?"

"I didn't reveal the depth of your uncle's ambition, if that's what you mean. The Sands are known through legend, so their power itself is not secret. I explained to your father how you used the dagger to get to the truth, and that the effect must have built up, rebounded. It was close enough to the truth without having to elaborate further." Tamina bit her lip. "Besides, you trusted your family to side with you before when you needed it the most."

"When I felt we had no other choice, but yes. Father will respect it as part of Alamut's sacred mission, even if it's not what we were raised to believe. But if one wrong person hears of its existence, and gets ideas…"

"Perhaps we just need to have faith that it will turn out all right."

Dawn began to filter through the balcony curtains. A light breeze wafted through, which chilled Dastan slightly (he was glad for the covers now). It also roused the sleeping king.

"Hmm…what? Oh. Forgive me, Princess, it's both easier at my age and harder on these old bones to drift off like that. I suppose I had best retire for—Dastan, God be praised, you're awake!"

Pure relief washed over Sharaman's greying features. Weariness only aged him more, though Dastan felt instantly more at ease to see the concern lift from his father's shoulders.

"Your brothers will want to hear the news as soon as possible. We knew that you would not let this trial overcome you. Your strength runs deep, my son."

"Thank you, Father. I do feel significantly improved," Dastan replied. "You should get some real rest of your own. I promise I won't go anywhere."

"Not so fast, I'm not that feeble just yet. Seeing you awake again has given me new energy."

"All the same, maybe we shouldn't test how much I have right away. I look forward to sitting and talking with you at length when we are both in better shape."

"You are right, of course. Just know that I am more proud and grateful for you than words can express." Sharaman gripped Dastan's wrist with affection still tinged with desperation. As if reluctant to physically let him go, let alone out of his sight. But after a few seconds of contemplative eye contact, the king stood.

Dastan gave his father's arm a reassuring squeeze in return. "I'm sure Tus or Garsif—probably both of them—will gladly take watch in the meantime."

Sharaman chuckled at this, tipped a nod to Tamina, and stepped out of the chamber. She accompanied him to the door, then returned to the bedside. Dastan raised an eyebrow.

"If anyone should be getting some rest, it's you. People will start to get suspicious."

"Do I strike you as someone who cares about the opinions of others regarding my personal matters?"

"I'm just saying, you look exhausted. Beautiful, and unwavering, but exhausted. I meant what I told my father. I'll still be here when you come back." He reached up to brush a stray lock of hair away from her face. That's when he noticed it—his confused surprise must have shown, because Tamina followed his gaze.

A star-like design had appeared on his left palm, dark against the skin, almost like a tattoo. They had both seen the image before. Tamina wore it when they met in Alamut's throne room, painted in gold. This one more closely resembled those of the priest turned Hassansin. Dastan raised his other hand. A mirror image.

"Wh-where did these come from? What else did I miss while I was asleep?" he stammered.

"This wasn't our doing. The markings appeared after the height of the echo subsided. A rush of wind circled the room for a few moments, only to vanish as suddenly as it arrived. At first we feared you had stopped breathing, you were so still," Tamina explained very fast. She continued to study his expression. "What did you see?"

"A girl…this solitary girl appeared out of a whirlwind of light and…I don't even know how to describe it. It was like her hands burned mine when she reached for them. I felt as if I knew her, although I've never seen her before."

Tamina's face lit up gradually, much like the sunrise behind her. "It seems the gods made their determination."

"I guess that's one way to put it," mused Dastan. He probed one palm with the opposite thumb, thinking. Definitely not ink. The pattern was seamlessly part of the flesh, in fact a casual observer might assume by the weathered appearance that it had always been there. And yet Dastan could sense a distinct difference. He meant what he said about helping Tamina protect the Sands, but wasn't sure he was ready to take on divine responsibility.

"Don't let it worry you for now. You'll learn the ways of the temple," Tamina assured him.

"I can't say I ever saw myself becoming any kind of priest…then again, I never expected to be plucked off of the street and made a prince, either."

"There are those who maintain the high temple, and there are those who serve in other capacities. The man from whom you first took the dagger, for example. I didn't say you had to change who you are. There is a reason the gods chose to set you on this path. Though I do hope you take to using your diplomatic instincts more often before your combat ones."

"That I can try to work on."

Dastan became quite aware of how close she hovered. The way she didn't shy away from the intimacy of the moment. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her, to savor her company the way they had so easily spent that afternoon on the balcony, away from everyone and everything else.

A fervent knock on the door interrupted his wish. Dastan rolled his eyes at the sound of his brothers joking back and forth on the other side. Tamina's expression showed equal disappointment, which he found encouraging. He settled for kissing her hand.

"We'd best let them have their chance to harangue me before they drive everyone else to distraction. Take some time for yourself. With how much of the past days I've spent passed out, I can manage entertaining those two for a while. The healers can step in if I need anything else for a few hours."

"You're sure?"

"I think we both know you'll have plenty of time to hover over my wellbeing, unless there's something else about the power of the Sands you haven't shared. And to think, you used to not be able to get rid of me fast enough." He chuckled at his own joke. Tamina remained serious.

"Everything changes with time," she remarked. Then she leaned in and kissed him earnestly, boldly.

"So it does," Dastan muttered to himself, watching her leave. He never imagined they would make such a journey so quickly, let alone twice. The next moment, he had to tuck the thought away, as his brothers strolled in at full speed.