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First Edition
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J689-1817-1-10060
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number on file.
ISBN 978-1-4231-1796-4
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Table of Contents
Instructions
Prologue
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In your hands you hold an object of great power. It is an object with the ability to alter the course of history. The choices you make while holding this item will impact moments in time and fateful events, and could even be the difference between life and death for those closest to you.
As Prince Dastan, will you save the beautiful Princess Tamina? Will you try to find your father’s killer? These, and countless other choices are yours to make. Will you save the world or destroy it?
It’s YOUR call.
This object allows you to follow the story of your choosing. You may be told to simply turn the page, or you may have options. Just be sure to read until you come to the prompt. In some cases, you will see prompts at the top of the page as well as at the bottom. That indicates there are several ways you could have reached the page you are reading. If you want to go back to see how you got there, click on the top prompt.
Click here to GO TO THE PROLOGUE
Prologue
Before the coming of the Prophet Mohammed, there was a harsh land that few could survive and none could control. But with the bold stroke of a sword and the sheer force of will, an empire rose from its rocky soil. That empire was Persia.
By the close of the sixth century, its reach extended from the beaches of the Mediterranean to the steppes of China. But like any empire, it was only as great as its princes—those who would one day be kings. . . .
Not all princes are born with royal blood. You, Prince Dastan, were found in the streets of Nasaf. You stepped in when one of the king’s guards bullied another street urchin, your friend Yusef. King Sharaman admired your honesty, your courage, and your spirit. He saw great potential in you and adopted you into his family. The third and youngest of his sons.
That was twelve years ago. Now your father spends much of his time in prayer and contemplation. And your nation is on the verge of war.
GO ON TO PAGE 2
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BACK TO PAGE 48
You pace in the war-council tent, just outside the beautiful city of Alamut. Although your father, the king, has clearly stated he wants the city spared, your older brothers—Tus, the heir to the kingdom, and Garsiv, the empire’s military leader—along with your uncle Nizam, the king’s brother, have decided to attack.
“But our father feels the city is sacred,” you argue.
“The king doesn’t know about this,” Tus says.
“Then why . . . ?” you ask.
“Our finest spy intercepted a caravan leaving Alamut carrying these to our enemies in Koshkhan,” Nizam says.
Tus gestures to a spy, standing by two trunks. The man tips them over, spilling weapons onto the ground. Your eyes widen. It’s quite a lethal collection. It seems the rumors are true. The holy city of Alamut is not the peaceful place it claims to be. It is a center for making and selling weapons to your empire’s enemies.
“We attack at dawn,” Tus declares.
You disagree with the decision to fight—your father will be unhappy—but hold your tongue. Tus is in charge here. Still . . . you need to think about this.
Do you obey Tus’s orders as a responsible young prince and command the rear battalion? Or do you come up with a plan of your own, possibly averting a bloodbath, but risking failure—and your family’s wrath.
If you stick to your brother’s plan, GO ON TO PAGE 74.
If you have a different idea, CONTINUE ON TO PAGE 3.
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It’s now the middle of the night. You can hear the clamoring preparations for an attack on the city’s main gate. With a small group of men, you sneak around to the eastern wall, a coil of rope and several grappling hooks slung over your shoulder.
You hear an Alamutian sentry pacing the parapet above you. You’ll need to be very quiet. And fast.
You scale the wall as far as you can; then an arrow thunks between the stones
above you. But this is no attack—this was planned between you and Bis, your manservant. More arrows pierce the wall, creating a ladder!
You use the arrows to climb the wall. When you’re in position, you fling the grappling hook up and over the edge. It lands with a rather loud clunk.
Uh-oh.
The sentry must have heard it. His footsteps come closer. He peers over the side and looks right into your eyes. But before he can sound an alarm, a dagger flies from behind you and slams into him. He topples over the parapet. You send Bis a silent thank you as you climb over the wall. Then you drop the long rope to your commandos below.
“Remind me why we’ve disobeyed your brother’s orders?” Bis says, panting as he struggles over the wall.
“Because a head-on attack will be a massacre. I’ll need your shield.”
“You know, sire,” he says, handing it to you, “it appears to me you won’t be happy till you get us all killed.”
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Everyone freezes. You, holding the Dagger, the guard holding the drawn sword, your brothers, and their men. No one moves. It seems like no one even breathes.
“Prince Tus,” Tamina says, “swear to me the people of Alamut will be treated with mercy.”
Tus studies her a moment, then reaches out his hand again. This time she takes it. Everyone applauds and cheers. Except you. You find the idea of your brother marrying this princess . . . unsettling.
Later, after nightfall, Tus finds you in the courtyard where you have been congratulating your men on their victory. They fall away as Tus approaches, allowing you to speak privately.
“They’re calling you the Lion of Persia,” Tus says.
You eye him warily. Has he come to admonish you for disobeying him?
“You’ve never excelled at following orders, Dastan,” he goes on.
You grimace. “I have some explaining to do. . . .”
He clamps a hand on your shoulder. “No, we have some celebrating to do.” He grins.
You grin back, relieved he’s not angry.
“There is, however, a tradition,” he says. “Since you took the honor of first assault, you owe me a gift of homage.” He eyes the Dagger in your belt and smiles slyly. “A beautiful dagger,” he comments.
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As you race down an alley to join the battle, you hear hoof beats. You turn to see a tall man riding an armored stallion. He’s heading straight toward you!
You raise your sword, and he draws a scimitar. You’re trapped between two walls. How will you get out of this?
You run at the charging horse and at the last possible moment, leap straight up. You kick your legs so you can move from wall to wall, then you pull the surprised warrior off the back of his horse. You both land hard on the ground.
He whirls around, slashing at you with the scimitar. You meet him with your sword and the clanging of steel against steel echoes off the walls. He is a graceful, powerful opponent. You use every skill you have to keep him at bay. One of your thrusts cuts an embroidered cloth bundle from the man’s belt. It falls to the ground.
You strike again and are surprised that your sword isn’t blocked. The man seems to be trying to get to the fallen object. Your blade cuts across the man’s flesh, and he drops to his knees. He reaches again for the cloth sack. You knock him out with the hilt of your sword and stand over him.
The sounds of battle rage around you, but you stare at the bundle. What’s so important about this pile of cloth that kept the man from defending himself?
If you stop to look inside the bundle, TURN TO PAGE 122.
If you leave it alone, TURN TO PAGE 34.
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You find your family in the Alamut High Temple.
Stepping inside, you gaze in awe at the splendor of the temple. But nothing compares to the beauty of the young woman being questioned by your uncle and brothers. Her long, dark hair contrasts with her pale, shimmering gown, and the golden chain and amulet she wears around her neck sparkle against her soft skin. Her eyes are dark—and full of pride.
“Princess Tamina, we know you secretly build weapons for enemies of Persia,” your uncle Nizam says. “Now show us where.”
The woman holds her head high. “We have no secret forges here, and what weapons we have, you overcame.”
“Our spies say differently,” Garsiv says with a snarl. “Much pain can be spared if you—”
Princess Tamina cuts him off. “All the pain in the world won’t help you find something that doesn’t exist.”
Tus steps forward. “Spoken like one wise enough to consider a political solution.” He extends his hand. “Join hands with Persia’s future king.”
“I’ll die first.” The princess’s lips twist in a sneer.
You tense. She doesn’t understand what danger she is in.
“Yes,” Tus says softly, but decisively. “Yes, you will.” He motions to his bodyguard who draws his sword.
You instinctively pull the Dagger from your belt. Your movement catches Princess Tamina’s attention. She looks startled, then cries, “Wait!”
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The next day you are back with your men waiting for your father’s arrival. To pass the time, you are practicing your wall running.
You race straight at Bis, then leap up and onto the wall to run above him. One step, two, then you go sprawling to the ground.
“The third step is the hardest,” you say, laughing with the others.
“I didn’t see you get to the second,” you hear Tus say. You look up to see him on horseback, amused. He dismounts and helps you up.
“We’ve uncovered signs of tunnels on the eastern edge of the city,” he tells you. “I’m on my way there now.”
“You’ll miss the banquet!” you protest.
“You and Garsiv can handle Father in my absence. You do have a gift to honor him with?”
Your mouth opens, then closes. You shake your head.
Tus chuckles. “I knew you’d forget.” He gestures to a servant who hands you a wrapped package. “A prayer robe. A gift the king will appreciate. You fought like a champion for me, Dastan. I’m glad to return the favor.”
Tus climbs back onto his horse. Then he imparts one last order. “My marriage to Princess Tamina will assure the loyalty of the people of Alamut. If Father doesn’t approve our union, I want you to end her life with your own hand.”
You gape at him. He wants you to kill her?
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“I have something for you,” you tell your father, handing him your gift. “This prayer robe.”
Sharaman smiles, opening the package. He pulls on the robe.
Tus chose well, you think. Your father seems very pleased by the gift.
“What can I grant you in return?” he asks.
You look over your shoulder and nod. Bis and the guard escort Tamina into the great hall.
“This is Princess Tamina,” you say. “Tus wishes to make a union with her people through marriage. It is my deepest wish that this win your approval.”
Your father stands in respectful greeting. “In all my travels,” he says formally, “I’ve never laid eyes on a more beautiful city, Your Highness.”
“You should have seen it before your horde of camel-riding illiterates descended upon it,” Princess Tamina says, her voice ringing loudly throughout the hall.
“But thank you for noticing, Your Highness,” she adds, no hint of apology or humility in her voice.
Luckily, it seems that your father is more amused than offended. But then his expression changes. His eyes widen in panic. He begins clawing at the prayer robe.
“The robe!” he shouts. “It burns!”
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You walk into the banquet hall. Beautiful girls dance, whil
e servants circulate with trays of food. Your father, King Sharaman, sits on a dais, enjoying the party.
Nizam steps up beside you as you gaze upon the opulent, festive scene. “One day, you’ll have the pleasure of being brother to a king, Dastan,” he tells you. “So long as you remember your most important duty, you’ll do well.” He gestures to a servant.
“And what’s that?” you ask.
“Making sure his wineglass stays full.”
You smile at your uncle who grins back. The king raises his hand, silencing the exuberant crowd.
“I’m told another of my sons has joined the rank of great Persian warriors,” he declares.
You step forward and kneel before the king. Sharaman gently touches your face.
“We missed you,” you tell him.
“I was praying for you and your brothers, Dastan.” He looks toward his own brother, your uncle Nizam, then back to you. “The bond between brothers is the sword that defends our empire. I pray that sword remains strong.”
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Just before dawn you find the person you’re looking for— Princess Tamina. You sneak up on her in the desert where she lies sleeping. Aksh paces nearby.
You find the Dagger and take it back. Then you shake her awake roughly.
Tamina scowls. “I take it your uncle didn’t listen to you.”
You sink down beside her. “Worse than that. I saw his hands had been burned. He said it happened trying to pull the cloak off my father.” You shake your head. “My uncle made no move to touch that cloak.”
“So the burns . . .” Tamina says.
“He must have been the one who poisoned it. It wasn’t Tus. It was Nizam.”
“I’m sorry,” she says.
“I trusted him. I thought he loved my father. But he didn’t.”
You stand and begin to pace. “He hated spending his whole life as brother to the king. He wanted the crown for himself.” You throw your hands up, exasperated. “But murdering my father. This Dagger. None of it makes him king!”
You turn and face her. You know she has the answers. You’re determined this time—she’s going to give them to you.
“What aren’t you telling me?” you demand.
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To Right a Wrong Page 1