Author's notes: Another week, another chapter! Hope you all like this one as much as the others. D/T angst warning. And Nizam being a bit of an evil git warning too...

I get a lot of questions regarding plots in my reviews, sometimes saying that there are things they don't understand. It's my writing style to leave some plot points unanswered. This leaves multiple little cliff hangers, which is my way of keeping the reader interested. 99% of the time, all the questions/plots will be resolved. If by any chance you think I have overlooked resolving something, then by all means drop me a line. But most of the time, if you have a question, it will be answered in the next few chapters :)

Reviews: Thank you everyone again! I just love reading all your comments, and you were very receptive to the last chapter, mostly because of the slightly large and dramatic cliff hanger. So thank you all again!

WingedShadow - I loved reading your review XD I knew from the start I'd bring Nizam back, because I just love to hate his character. Now, I just hope I can do him justice! And the Nasreen/Zolm story line is one of my favourites at the moment, so its good to know someone else is really enjoying reading about them! Thanks for your review xx
sorree - Ah, I think you've picked up on one of the majoy themes of my story, what with the mirroring of the movie plot! Stay tuned for that one. And yes, we all love and hate cliffhangers!
Starfish - Yup, adventure part starts here. They might meet up with some old friends, who knows... ;) I hope this chapter will answer some of your questions about the involvements regarding the 'gods' in the last chapter!
vera1992 - Those two are so fun to write about. Glad you're enjoy the Zolm/Nasreen plot line!
Mina - Nizam is an easy character not to like, but it's great fun writing about him! I think this chapter may answer your question about Dastan/Tamina. If not, the short answer is no. Yes I know, I'm evil.

Thanks again everyone, and I hope this chapter will live up to your expectations!

Woffles92

Chapter 7 – Escape

"Run!" Tamina cried, grabbing Dastan's arm, and somehow managing to pull the stunned prince to his feet.

Nizam was dead. So how could he be here? It was like some terrible nightmare that he was waiting to wake up from. He couldn't think straight, he didn't have time. But he knew that the impossibility of Nizam was bad news for him, and he had promised to trust Tamina. There were guards, too many to count, flooding into the room. He could hear the clash of swords and see the flash of blades. There were cries of shock and outrage, and of course, terror.

She pulled him across to the white balcony, overlooking the city. He saw the flash of blue beneath him and with horror he recognised this scene as if from a forgotten dream. This was the second time he was going to jump into that fountain to escape the palace.

Tamina screamed as she jumped. It wasan't the typical high pitched scream of a woman, but rather a throaty cry as the fall wrenched the very air from her lungs. The cool water beneath them was a shock to the system, but it softened the landing. They both broke the surface of the water, and waded as quickly as possible to the edge.

"We need to get out of the city!" Tamina shouted

"How did you know that was going to happen?" Dastan demanded as he lifted her out of the fountain.

"Get us out of here alive and then I'll explain," she snapped.

The uneasy feeling of déjà vu began to bubble in him as they ran through the streets towards the stables. However, this time, no-one seemed to be in pursuit. He wasn't being framed for his father's death, and hot headed Garsiv wasn't thundering on his heels screaming murder. Nizam didn't even seem particularly bothered. He knew that his uncles sudden and somewhat unbelievable appearance would mean nothing but bad things, but he felt like a coward for fleeing unprovoked. Leaving Alamut, and all its secrets in Nizam's possession was wrong.

"Tamina," he panted as they hurried, "We can't leave!"

"We can and we are," she muttered.

"But no-one's chasing us, my family is back there and I want to be there to protect them!"

"You can't protect them if you're dead!" she snapped back.

They mounted up, both on horses this time instead of together. As the streets were not full of soldiers ordered to hunt them down, there was no great panic, but they still left with haste on thundering hooves. Dastan led the way. They headed in the same direction, to the little oasis where he'd first discovered the power of the dagger. His head throbbed with the confusion of it all, and he tried not to overthink things when it was a pointless to do so. Tamina would explain, he repeated over and over as the wind whipped his hair around his face. Tamina would explain.

As Nizam strode into the room, he was filled with a sense of immense pleasure at each and every one of the shocked expressions on his face. The army behind him were those Persian soldiers who had been loyal to him before his demise, and were just as eager to return into service when they saw not even death hat the power to stop him.

The moment when he had looked into his nephew's eyes and seen shock, horror and disbelief, had been delicious. Only the two of them knew about what had happened before. Death had a way of making you remember things once forgotten.

But what he couldn't comprehend was why Dastan and the princess had fled over the balcony in the confusion following his entrance. It was curious, but of no importance. They had all the time in the world to track him down. This time, what he knew was no longer a threat; in fact, his escape could be used to his advantage. He changed tactics quickly from one of force, to finesse. He could do this with clever words instead of a sword edge. He signalled to the soldiers for crowd control, rather than bloodshed.

The Persian king was the first to speak properly, above the babble of the people in the room.
"Brother? How can this be?"

"You demon!" Garsiv roared as he drew his sword with a wild look of determination on his face, "You were dead, I watched you die."

"Garsiv, no!" Sharaman cried anxiously, putting a hand on his shoulder to stay him. The middle prince wanted to lunge at his uncle, but battled through his urges on the command of his father.

"This is not possible," Tus breathed, audible in the hush which had fallen over the room, "You died. You died at my hand when you tried to kill Dastan."

"But how can that be Tus," Nizam asked casually, "when I'm standing here before you now?"

Tus couldn't answer, and neither could anyone else in the room. Sharaman pushed forward, his face registering shock, and awe.

"I saw them burn your body in Nasaf," he said softly, walking slowly towards his brother, "How is it possible?"

"Deception, brother," Nizam answered, "You have been deceived by your own sons."

He paused for dramatic effect here as there were gasps, and mutterings of outrage from the audience.

"The body you saw burned was a decoy, made to look like me. The princes conspired against me, and in the heat of the attack on this city, I was captured and left in the desert to die. It is only by the grace of the gods that I survived. It has taken me all this time to travel back to tell you the truth."

"You liar!" Garsiv bellowed, "You filthy liar, you died trying to kill Dastan, and now you're a ghost come back to haunt us!"

"Hold your tongue Garsiv," Sharaman spat.

"The only liar here Garsiv is you," Nizam said, "Brother, look to your youngest son if you want the truth. But wait, you can't! He has fled, too burdened with the shame of what he has done!"

"Father, don't listen to him," Tus pleaded, but was met with the same response that his brother had received only moments before.

"But… why?" Sharaman breathed, "Why would they plot against you?"

Nizam shook his head, performing a look of disappointment and sorrow.
"I do not know for sure. My only guess is that they were plotting with our enemies, and knew that I would have been too great an obstacle if I remained alive."

"This is ridiculous," Tus interjected, "How can you stand here and listen to this, father? Why would Dastan, Garsiv and I plot against you?"

"Ah, Tus," Nizam sighed, "You have been so eager for the crown for so long. How are we to understand the motives that drive you to such extreme measures for power?"

Sharaman was torn. On one side stood his sons, two of flesh and blood, and one of heart. In their version of the story, Nizam had tried to kill Dastan, and it was self-defence which had been his brother's ultimate demise. At the time, this had seemed an impossible explanation, but in his mind, he had it settled that it had been due to an illness of the brain, or a moment of madness after a battle. But now Nizam stood before him, a walking and breathing contradiction of his sons' tale. And he was right, it was no secret that Tus had long coveted the Persian crown.

"You are not real!" Garsiv shouted, "You are a ghost and a demon!"

"See for yourself, brother," Nizam sighed, offering out his arms to Sharaman, "Come and see that I am no ghost."

Sharaman approached his brother tentatively. First he touched the outstretched arms, they were solid. It was enough for him.

"Brother," he breathed with relief, as he embraced Nizam.

Triumph exploded inside him as he embraced the King. Now, the real upheaval could begin.

"Not a ghost dear brother," Nizam whispered Sharaman's ear, "But I do believe demon was quite an accurate description."

With a movement too quick to stop, Nizam grabbed his brother's face in his hands. Sharaman yelled out in pain as the process began. Much like before, a stream of golden light and sand passed between them, with Nizam on the receiving end.

"Father!" Garsiv screamed, lunging forward with his sword. A man dressed entirely in black seemed to materialise from nowhere, with a sword twice the size of a normal one. They sparred briefly, but Garsiv's sword was knocked from his hand. The Hassansin didn't continue, just held the middle Prince at point of his monstrous sword to stop any further attacks.

All the colour had drained from Tus' face as he stood trembling at the scene unfold before him.

When Nizam had finished he let Sharamans body drop into a crumpled heap on the floor. His crown fell from his head, and bounced along the tiled floor. The princes ran to their father's aid, no longer deemed a threat with their weapons cast aside. Tus picked up the body on the floor and pressed his head to the chest.

"He's alive!" he exclaimed in disbelief.

"If you can call it that," Nizam replied with a sly grin.

"What do you mean?" Tus demanded. If a look could kill, Garsiv would have struck his uncle dead where he stood.

"He will breath, he will sleep, he will even eat if you force the food down his throat. But his soul is gone. You'll look into his eyes and see nothing. A fate, I think you'll find, that's even worse than death."

With a heartless wave of his hand, he signalled to his guards.

"Lock them up. I'll decide what I want to do with them later."

He bent down and picked up the crown. For a moment, he turned it over in his hands, feeling its weight. This was it, the accumulation of his lifes ambitions. No longer would he stand in the shadow of Sharaman, now he was King, the Lord of the land. With a victorious smile, he placed the crown on top of his hairless head. Turning in a slow and dramatic circle to every terrified face in the room, Nizam spoke once more.

"The Persian king is no longer fit to rule, and your beloved princess Tamina has fled. You all answer to me now."

Dastan looked thoughtfully into the flickering flames of the small fire he'd build to keep them warm through the night. They hadn't spoken more than a few words since they had left Alamut. He poked a stick into the fire as hunger gnawed at his insides. They had ridden hard, and hadn't eaten since before the wedding ceremony. They had water, but without food, they'd not last too long in the desert.

"Are you going to talk to me?" he asked eventually. Tamina's eyes were distant, as was her head. He called her name to bring her out of her daydreaming.
"Tamina?"

Her head snapped up.
"Sorry?"

"Are you going to tell me what happened back there now?"

When she didn't reply, he persisted.
"How did you know that Nizam was about to come in?"

Again, she didn't reply, and he became increasingly frustrated. She shifted uneasily, then, reached behind her back, and under the top layer of her robes. Dastan furrowed his brow in confusion, trying to work out what she was doing. The thought of her undressing came briefly to mind, as it does often to members of the male sex, but it was so out of character for her that he immediately dismissed it.

In the fire light, something glinted, gold and silver in her hand. It took only a fraction of a moment for him to recognise it. Like a child's wooden puzzle, the pieces of understanding clicked into place in his mind.

"I was going to present it to you," she began quietly, turning the dagger over in her hands, "as part of the marriage ceremony, to symbolise that you were also now part of the sacred oath to keep it secret and safe. To everyone else, it would have just looked like a gift, but I knew you would have known the real meaning. I thought I was just being a sentimental fool."

She passed it to him, and as he took it from him, the sand in the handle shifted.

"You filled it?"

Tamina nodded.
"After you left my room last night, I was reminded that you'd used it all… before. It's always good to keep some sand, in case of emergencies."

She closed her eyes tight in an expression of pain, as though a certain memory was particularly hurtful.

"What's wrong?" Dastan queried gently.

She took in a deep breath to control herself.

"The first time it happened, the first time Nizam came in, it was much more violent. There was blood, so much blood. I knew I couldn't escape with the dagger, especially when you were…"

She stopped again as another wave of emotion threatened to break her cool composure.
"Especially, when you were…hurt."

"Badly?"
His curiosity was somewhat morbid, but he wanted to know anyway.

"They caught you off guard. I don't know if it was a fatal wound but… there was a lot of blood. The only way I could be sure that they wouldn't find the dagger was if I reversed time and made sure that I… we escaped."

"So it wasn't just for my sake that you used the sand."

It was a statement rather than a question.

Tamina shot him a serious look, with eyes that were cold, but not unfeeling.
"I'm sorry Dastan," she whispered, "But the dagger will always come first."

He knew that, it was stupid to think otherwise. If she was prepared to condemn herself to death, then there was little help of her choosing someone else's life over the safety of the dagger. It was just something that he was going to have to accept. He puffed up his cheeks, and blew out a long sigh. Then, he gave the fire another prod with his stick.

"What I still don't understand is how Nizam is… alive! Tus killed him, I saw it with my own eyes. We were all there at his funeral, we watched his body go up in flames on the pyre. It… it just doesn't make any sense."`

Tamina lowered her eyes from him. Dastan caught the hidden meaning behind it.

"What do you know? What aren't you telling me?" he accused.

"No, no…" she corrected, holding her hands up in protested innocence, "I don't know anything… for certain, but I do have a theory."

The prince motioned for her to continue

"When I was training to be a guardian as a girl, I was told by one of my tutors that there are certain, practices, which, although forbidden, can be used to summon the power of the gods. Some are for good, healing, cleansing, that sort of thing. Others are…evil, wicked…"

"Like bringing back people from the dead."

"Perhaps, I don't know for sure. I thought they were just rumours, thought up to frighten me into doing my lessons, and leaning my prayers."

Dastan grunted in frustration.
"So they resurrected one of the vilest creatures Persia has ever seen? I'm sorry to say Tamina that I don't think much for your gods."

She snapped her head around and her eyes narrowed to slits. Ready to defend her deities with fierce determination.
"Excuse me? If it wasn't for them, you'd be dead. Without the gods there would be no dagger, and no turning back time when you go running into the point of a sword like a fool."

"Without the gods, there would be no dagger, and none of this would have ever happened!" Dastan retorted.

"And without the dagger, we would have all perished in a great sandstorm, and none of our ancestors would have even been born." She was triumphant, sensing that she had won the argument, but Dastan wasn't finished with her yet.

"How can you worship something that is capable of that?" he sneered.

Tamina stood up now, fury now visibly coursing through her body.

"Not all gods are good Dastan. All the evil things in this world have a master. But all the gods must be respected and feared! It is the way of the world. I wouldn't expect an ungodly, camel riding illiterate like you to understand."

"Oh, so that's how you see me?" Dastan exclaimed dramatically, "Well excuse me your highness, but you were fully prepared to marry this ungodly, camel riding illiterate earlier today."

"Well that was before I had seen you for your true colours; a self-absorbed, bigoted, know it all, stubborn, foolish mule!"

"Characteristics that you would know best of all, Princess."

Tamina screeched with rage and kicked a mound of sand at him. Then, she turned on her heels and stormed off into the darkness.

"Where are you going?" he called after her in an irritated voice as he brushed sand off himself

"To find a stick," she yelled back.

"What for? We've plenty of fire wood to do the night!"

"So I can beat you with it!"

Dastan steamed for a few moments, considering the very real possibility of just packing up camp and leaving her there. He had forgotten how she could make him feel this way. It was almost like he'd returned to the first time he'd met her, how he had looked to the sky and pleaded for the strength not to kill her. Was he doomed to repeat events like this? She was still the spoilt, stubborn and infuriating Tamina she'd always been, despite what they'd been through today. With a frustrated sigh, he picked a burning branch from the fire to use as a torch and followed after her. On top of everything else, if she hurt herself in the dark, it would give her yet another thing to complain about.