Awareness returned to Dastan very slowly. He picked up on multiple low voices, some closer than others. His immediate surroundings were hazy. Rippling, like mirages in the desert. Everything felt ten times heavier when he tried to move.
Cool hands touched his arm, then his forehead. "You may do better staying still. Do you remember what happened?" asked a soothing voice. A familiar one…
"Is that concern…?"
The speaker huffed in exasperation. Yes, he was right. Dastan carefully explored the sensations closest to his reach with as little movement as get could get away with. The surface on which he lay had a cushiony feel to it.
"Where am I…"
"One of my courtiers' chambers, it was the closest private room we could get to," replied Tamina. "You developed a fever, we noticed it when you collapsed. The healers are working on a remedy."
"Was there anything out of the ordinary today? Anyone who might have seemed out of place, or acting strange?" A second presence barged in with Garsiv's voice.
Dastan scrunched his face in confusion. "What? Nothing happened, I didn't see, hear, come across anything…" He finally convinced his eyes to open. The room was not as big as he thought, with what looked like one small antechamber and a side door. His father and oldest brother remained against the wall opposite the bed, Garsiv of all people to his immediate left at the bedside, Tamina to the right, and finally two healers and their underlings passing in and out of the antechamber. No wonder the air felt stuffy.
Aside from fever heat, faint chills raced up and down his limbs despite blankets covering him. One of the healers came forward with damp, folded linen, which she put across his forehead.
"It's possible he simply contracted a foul vapor, or overexerted himself, Your Highness," she said quietly to her mistress.
"We know for sure it's not some kind of poisoned or infected wound?" Tus cut in. Dastan had never seen his family so on the verge of panic. The healer turned to the elder prince.
"We have found nothing of the kind."
"In any case, only so many people can do much good in here. We can hardly move among each other," the second healer addressed the room at large. "Go back to your quarters for the night. The attendants will fetch you with all speed if there is a development."
"He's our brother, son to the king of Persia. We have a right to be at his side!" protested Garsiv.
"You are also guests in my palace, and if you want the best care for him, my healers need room to work. Please, I assure you, you will be immediately notified of any change," Tamina pressed sharply.
"How do we know you don't have a hand in this?"
"Garsiv!" warned King Sharaman.
The princess stared them down. "I swear on the bond forged between our kingdoms not hours ago, this is not my doing nor that of anyone in my court."
"I trust her," Dastan managed to force out. He had begun to feel strange again. Close above him, a glistening pendant hung on a chain around Tamina's neck. Somewhere in his memory, this held significance. Tamina noticed his drawn attention as well.
"If you all would, please?" She gestured to the door, firmer in her tone this time.
Very reluctantly, the three men trooped out, and none too soon. A discomfort had built up in Dastan's chest, to the point where he felt as if his ribs had been laid open. He tried to focus on something else, at least until he spied spots of blood through the light cover.
"Um, help…what's going on? Tamina, what's going on?"
The sight completely ruffled her demeanor for the first time in this whole situation. Beneath the soft fabric, his open shirtfront revealed a long slash that hadn't been there before. An assistant rushed forward with a clean cloth to staunch the bleeding, which was steady though not perfuse. Dastan grimaced at the pressure. Fear threatened to overwhelm him.
Tamina grabbed the other assistant. "Go to the library, quickly. Tell Raveen I need the book of the guardians. Don't speak to anyone on the way. I may know what this is, but I have to be sure," she rapped quietly. He bowed, and hurried out.
Both healers joined the bustle. One checked the extent and status of the mysterious wound, while the other held a small cup, clearly meant for Dastan. The liquid had a strong taste to it.
"You don't have to take all of it at once. It's to lower the fever," the wiry older woman explained.
Dastan tried not to choke, between the tincture and his hitched breathing from the pain. The medicine did seem to clear his head ever so slightly, however, allowing him to somewhat gather his wits. Upon second glance at his chest, he realized he had seen something like it before.
"That's not possible…"
Tamina's face turned serious. "Dastan, since the day we met I could tell there was something different about you. Your reverence for the dagger when you presented it to me. As if you knew its full significance…"
"I didn't know how to tell you," confessed Dastan. "This has something to do with the Sands of Time, doesn't it, the farther one travels back?"
"So you do know of the Sandglass, you've used it! I feared as much, the way you knew of your uncle's deception, how you tiptoe around every conversation. How dare you make yourself out like some kind of selfless hero…" Her wide eyes were a maelstrom of emotions. Dastan's heart plummeted under that look.
"It wasn't by my hand, I swear, I tried to prevent it—in the, the other time, I guess you would say, Nizam pierced the Sandglass before I could stop him!"
"Why would he be so determined to turn back time?"
"In order to change history, make himself king of Persia instead of my father, and circumvent my brothers altogether. It's a long story. The greater issue right now is that none of them know about the dagger, the Sands, or the lengths my uncle went to!"
"I'm supposed to believe you didn't tell anyone what Nizam's true goal was here?" she retorted incredulously, her tone still low and dangerous.
"I confess it's the most difficult decision I've ever made. Father prizes trust and family above all else in his court. I was torn between honesty, and wanting to spare my family further grief over something that technically never happened. Most importantly, I wanted to respect your responsibility as guardian, your mission, after everything I saw. That even you didn't know I knew. I'm…I'm sorry I didn't admit the truth to you sooner…and I'm willing to shoulder any consequences I have to for my part, just tell me why it's doing this?"
The first healer lifted the bloodied linen. Underneath, the wound appeared to have begun congealing. Tamina bit her trembling lip.
"There is a rare account, little more than hearsay, that turning back time creates ripples. Echoes, that only the one who committed the act can feel. Major events now foregone or altered. It is said the power of the Sands weighs like a sickness on that person."
"Sounds about right."
"Of course, we have very little to go on, I'm afraid. Using the Sandglass is—"
"Forbidden, so it's not something you would have much record of. I understand." A throb in his chest forced Dastan to pause. "My hand was on the dagger when I managed to overpower my uncle, but he had released enough. I found myself back here in Alamut, at the end of the battle. That's when I realized I had the chance to stop everything that happened, all the damage my uncle did. Like I said, it's a long story."
"We have time for you to tell it." Tamina helped him straighten the falling compress. Dastan saw that her crown and most of her finery was gone, except for the betrothal gift. His hand lingered on hers.
"I didn't know any different when we set the attack in motion, although I never fully agreed with the decision. Perhaps if I had stood up to my brothers more…for that, I am sorry."
"The past is meant to be the past. What matters is how you move forward. Don't let it worry you now," insisted the princess.
"Do you want me to tell the story or not? You were rightfully angry when we did take the city—back then—and you weren't afraid to show it. Adding insult to injury, you were pressed to agree to marriage in order to protect your people. But then everything started to go wrong. A robe I presented to my father turned out to be poisoned, making it look like I murdered him. You wanted to get the dagger back, so you helped me escape."
"I take it we did so successfully?"
"Yes, only you tried to kill me after we made camp for the night. That's how I actually discovered the dagger's power, completely by accident. In my shock I let my guard down, and gave you the chance to slash right across my chest with my own sword." He glanced down, wincing at both the memory and the present ache.
Tamina's brow furrowed. "This exact wound?"
Dastan nodded. The further he got into his explanation, the more worn out he felt. As if sensing this, Tamina beckoned the healer with the stone cup forward.
"See if you can drink a little more of this, and then rest. We can continue tomorrow."
He wanted to protest the latter suggestion, except as soon as he took the second drink, the impulse to sleep intensified. There must be something in the concoction, or else he was really that poorly off. The last thing he registered was the sense of Tamina tucking the blankets closer around him.