Author's notes: Sorry, I'm a horrible author for leaving you on such a cliffhanger and then disappearing off the face of the earth for a few weeks. Thank's to everyone who reviewed, I'm not going to reply to them as a) It's late and I'm tired. b) Most of them said something along the lines of "NOOOOOO HOW CAN YOU LEAVE IT THERE?1!1" and to that I reply:

"Because I can."

Hope this was worth the wait. Maybe have this thing wrapped up by chapter 20? It's a nice round number.

Oh, and I don't think this affects the T rating, but there is one incidence of very harsh language in this chapter. Consider yourself warned. I suppose it's not very bad in the broad scheme of things, but because I haven't sworn in this story at all yet, I thought I'd warn you.

Enjoy.

Woffles92

Chapter 17 – An Unlikely Alliance

"Tamina…"

The whisper was all around her. When she opened her eyes she could see nothing but white. However, the bright light did not hurt her eyes. Surely this was heaven?

"Yes, I'm here," she replied willingly, looking around to see where the voice was coming from. She saw nothing but the intense whiteness.

"Why have you returned the dagger to us?"

The question puzzled the princess, as surely the gods saw everything?

"You must know? The dagger was in danger, and I have come in the place of the life you once spared to return it."

"We cannot accept your offering."

It took a moment for her to grasp what had been said. Confusion riddled her mind.

"I don't understand," she called out, "I am a guardian, and it is my duty to return the dagger to you when it's safety is in jeopardy. What is it that you cannot accept?"

"Princess of Alamut, you do not come to us alone with your offering."

"Please," she begged, "Speak plainly, I still don't understand!"

"Sweet daughter, a life grows within you and we cannot separate you from one another."

The realization spread through her like a gentle breeze.

"But it was only…"

"Once?" the voice interrupted with an almost playful tone, "That's all it takes."

Although her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, her lips drew back into a joyous grin. Instinctively, she drew her hand lightly over her slim stomach. Pausing, she addressed the voice again.

"But what about my destiny?"

"It is not your time. This was not the path you were meant to follow. Our blade is one of the few things that can stop the plague that has been spreading over this land."

"You mean Nizam. But, didn't you restore him to life?"

"It was not us, but our brothers and sisters who fell from grace into darkness and evil. There is much disturbance in the balance of all things. There are many innocent souls who are trapped between your world and ours. You must help them, Tamina."

"What must I do?"

"Take the dagger back to Alamut. A wound with this blade will be enough to break the ritual that brought Nizam back from where he should be. This, Princess, is your destiny."

"But what if I fail?" she asked self-consciously.

"The evil that you will face clouds the path in front of you. We cannot see what is to come should you not succeed."

"But it wouldn't be good," she remarked, partly to herself. Though there was no face, or even being attached to the voice, Tamina looked up when she spoke.

"May I have your blessings, for the strength and courage I will need?"

"Child, you already have those two qualities in abundance. You keep our laws and live a life that is pleasing to us. For this you always have our blessings, whether you ask for them or not."

Only when she was with Dastan had she felt so much love flowing through her body before. She wanted to laugh for the sheer joy of it. The things that should be troubling her did not, and she did not feel afraid for the road she now had to travel. There was no doubt that this was heaven.

"You must go now Tamina. Although we shall not meet like this again until you come to us at the end of your life, know that we are always with you."

Her reply was sincere.

"Thank you."

Then, the white light began to fade to black and her eyes grew impossibly heavy. As she drifted into something akin to sleep, she knew that when she opened her eyes again, she would be back in Persia.

It was impossible to tell how long he had been unconscious, but as soon as his eyes opened, his first thought was of her. He leapt from the ground, ignoring all the aches that he had received from being flung against the rock. Tamina was motionless, her face blank and pale, her hair damp from the water that trickled down the rock beside her.

His mouth felt dry and beneath his ribs he could feel every individual fibre of his heart as it broke into countless pieces. Delicately, he lifted her body in his arms and embraced her. The Persian prince had never been one for tears, but even though his eyes were dry, painful sobs racked his body as he held her. Memories of her body falling through the fog in the sand glass chamber flooded back and did nothing except add to the crushing weight of sorrow that was bearing down on him.

He was cursed; It was the only possible explanation. Why else would she have had to sacrifice herself in both the lives they had led? If the dagger hadn't been destroyed then he would have taken it, and reversed time back to before the Persians had ever invaded Alamut. It would have been better that way.

Suddenly, she groaned, and Dastan got such a shock that he almost dropped her.

"Tamina?" he asked in disbelief, searching her face for signs of life. Was he, in his grief, imagining things? His next movement was to check the her neck for the tell-tale throb of life. His heart skipped a merry dance in his chest when he found a pulse there. Was he going mad, or had she been granted some kind of reprieve?

The eyes beneath her closed lids began to move from side to side and he waited with baited breath as she came round. When at last she did open her eyes, Dastan let out a shuddering breath.

"Praise the gods," he said, embracing her as tight as he could without injuring her.

"Dastan," she breathed out in a sigh of relief.

He released her again and looked into those eyes which, only moments ago, he believed he'd never see again.

"How is this possible? You made the sacrifice, returned the dagger! You should be dead!"

"They refused me," she replied.

"What? Why?"

Tamina gave a coy smile.

"You know Dastan, if you keep on asking questions I'm going to start doubting whether or not you're actually glad to see me."

He laughed, letting the waves of blissful joy wash over him.

"Don't tease me like that. I doubt that there is a happier man in the world right now. I'm just curious. Did they speak to you? Did they give you a reason for the refusal?"

A nervous flutter passed through her stomach as she thought about their child. In the place where she had spoken with the gods the news had been joyous and welcome. But now, it was a source of anxiety. If she failed she would be denying the child a chance of life, or worse, condemning it to one where Nizam was in power. And there was the matter of Dastan to consider. She could hardly remember her own father since he had died when she had been very young, and didn't want their child to grow up not knowing their father. If she told him, there was the chance that he would keep himself out of harm's way, but she feared that the more likely outcome was that he would instead be recklessly protective of her and the unborn, endangering himself even more.

"They told me my destiny was to stop Nizam."
It was only a half-truth but she had made a judgement call not to burden him with the news just yet.

"You have no idea how happy I am you're alright," he gushed, before kissing her fiercely.

Watching their passionate exchange, Zolm had to force down the bile that was creeping up into his throat. It wasn't that he was so inhuman as to abhor all gestures of affection, but rather the fiery pit of jealousy that was bubbling just under his surface, threatening to erupt at any given moment. They had been reunited after what had almost been certain death, and seeing their joy left him crippled. Nasreen was lost to him, he knew that, but at least now there was one consolation. The dagger. Tamina had been sent back to stop Nizam, and that meant the dagger was still in her possession.

For a moment, he considered whether or not it would be to his advantage to do away with the Persian and his princess here and now, so that both the dagger and the glory of killing Nizam was his. But the throbbing in his injured arm reminded him of his own fallibility. However hard it was for him, he had to admit that it might be in his interest to seek assistance in the great matter.

"What happened the dagger?" Dastan asked when he and Tamina parted. She slipped off the rock and into the pool, dipping her arm into the clear water. After a few moments she withdrew, her hand clasped around the hilt of the dagger.

"Here."

Tamina handed it to him. But, as she turned around to face the entrance to the cave, she spotted her assailant and the shock drew a strangled cry from her lips.
"Dastan!" she yelled, grabbing his arm.

"It's alright," the prince said reassuringly, "He's… on our side, I suppose."

"What?" she demanded in outrage.

"He's not working for Nizam, quite the opposite."

"He tried to kill me!"

"He knew you were trying to return the dagger, and he was trying to stop you because the dagger is the only thing we know that can kill Nizam."

She gave a patronising laugh, "And you believe him?

Dastan met the Hassansin's eye. All logic told him not to trust the serpent master, yet there was something that he couldn't quite put his finger on that said he could be trusted.

"I do," he replied assuredly.

Without the priests to take care of them the hens would have starved or been carried off by mountain lions, so they ate well that night.

Everyone was on edge, probably because of the rather unlikely addition to their group. The Hassansin had barely uttered more than a few words, and had shocked them all when earlier in the day he had put a knife in the fire they had made, waited until it glowed hot, and then seared the wound on his arm closed without so much as a flinch. The conversation over dinner was sparse and the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

"So, do you have a name?" Amar eventually asked. Everyone looked up, eager to know the answer themselves but none brave enough to ask it.

The serpent charmer shifted his unnerving eyes into a glare in the Sheik's direction.

"Yes."

There was an anxious pause as everyone waited to see if he would continue or not. When he wasn't forthcoming, he pressed again.

"So are you going to share? If we're going to work together it's better that we know something about each other."

Despite his clumsy and sometimes impertinent mannerisms, Amar was making a lot of sense. Dastan had always spent the night before a battle with his soldiers, talking, laughing, making sure none of them took too much wine. It created a bond that was almost tangible when it came to the fight.

"Who say's we're working together," he hissed.

Tamina interjected.
"I'm sure you don't need our help, but personally I think that the chance of succeeding in this increases with numbers."
No-one voiced it, but they were all silently applauding the way she was handling the situation. She had read his character like a book.

After a long moment, he replied.

"Zolm."

She smiled, and then concentrated on forming her next question. It needed to be worded correctly, so as to make sure that her diplomacy didn't end up sounding like she was patronising him.

"You've been in Alamut all this time. When the gods spoke to me they mentioned something about souls being trapped between this world and the next. Do you know anything about this?"

Zolm's face grew dark. Just as they had thought they could begin to relax, the tension became tangible again.

"He gets his power from people. He… takes their life, or soul. But they don't die. They just sit there… staring into nothingness."

"That's horrible…" Tamina breathed out with a bitter taste in her mouth. Her people were being turned, one at a time, into living corpses.

"Is that why you are here?" Seso spoke suddenly, "Did he do this terrible thing to someone you knew?"

A visible nerve had been struck. They all held their breath, watching the Hassansin nervously, like he was one of those concoctions from the Far East that blew apart when exposed to fire.

"Yes."

"I bet it was a woman," Amar cried ungainly through a mouthful of chicken.

"It's none of your damn business," Zolm roared, jumping to his feet and unsheathing his sword in one violent movement. Dastan was up just as quick, weapon drawn. They stared each other down.

"I'll take that as a yes," the Sheik muttered. Seso glared at his master.

Dastan was the first to speak.

"Sit down, Zolm."

"You first, Prince," the Hassansin replied with a menacing glint in his eyes as he gave a mock bow.

"Will both of you, please, sit," Tamina shouted, "You're behaving like children."

Slowly, both men returned their weapons to the place at their sides, and sat down.

"I'm sorry," she continued as gently as she could, "You must have loved her."

Zolm snorted a laugh.
"I fucked her if that's what you mean."

Tamina recoiled, wrinkling her nose at his crude words.
"No, that's not what I meant."

He shrugged his shoulders.
"Suit yourself."

For a while, no-one spoke.

"I think it's time we got some rest. It's been a long day for everyone," Dastan reasoned.

"I will take the first watch," the Sheik's servant offered.

"No need," Zolm retorted smugly, "Sleep is for the weak. I will keep watch while I am meditating."

"You can do both?" Dastan asked impertinently.

A serpent slipped from his sleeve and settled on the ground beside him.
"Yes, we can."

"Here!" Amar said pointing an accusing finger at the Hassansin, "How do we know you aren't going to murder us all in our sleep? How can we trust you?"

"You do not need to be asleep for me to kill you," Zolm retorted calmly, "and the fact that you are still alive right now is proof enough that you can trust me."

The rest of the party exchanged looks.

"You may take my swords if it makes you feel safer," he continued with an air of impatience.

Dastan gave a short laugh. He put his arm around Tamina and they began to make their way to the priests' rooms that had been carved into the mountain. He called back over his shoulder.
"I don't think disarming you, Zolm, would make you any less of a threat."

"What a clever Prince," hissed the snake master as he smiled sadistically.