Rising Flames | Throne of Glass

3

He was low on food and water. And money. Which was a terrible sign. The money from the Vaults - the money from a lifetime ago - was long spent. Sam cursed the Gods, and his former bastard of a master, Arobynn.

And decided to pay a visit to the Vaults.

~

Rifthold was intriguing. Even the slums. Ragged children ran down the streets, shrieking in laughter, while rich, dignified cabs rolled passed where rich, dignified people sat. Enya, lost in awe, narrowly avoided crashing into a wall of flesh. 

'Money?' a voice growled. She raised her eyes slightly to see two hulking masses that were men. She fished around in the pocket of her pants, drawing out a few silver pieces, and let them sit in the palm of her hand. One took the money, and they stepped aside.

The Vaults had seen better days. But even the Queen of the Underworld destroying it still hadn't stopped it from hosting brawls. Enya prowled around the large pit in the centre, surveying the two men currently walloping the living daylights out of one another. The thought of stepping in that ring made her shudder. This is what they called entertainment? Enya wondered what Aelin would've made of this. Taking a seat in a secluded alcove, she settled down. It looked like she'd be spending the evening here until she found a better place.

The door opened again some while later. A young man stepped into the dim torchlight. His keen gaze raked round the cavern. Alert. She shifted, ever so slightly. And his brown eyes found hers.

~

Sam blinked. His eyes had to be deceiving him. There was no way - Celaena was - Celaena was in Endovier! The girl stood, a frown evident on her face. Oh, Gods, even the way she walked. The stranger, yet not a stranger, stopped a few feet away from him. 'Who are you?' He hated his voice for wobbling. The woman, girl even, if she was Celaena's age, cocked her head to the side. It took everything not to collapse to his knees and start crying. 'Why do you need to know?'

Sam gripped the hilt of his dagger hard. 'You want answers. I want answers. I'll give you answers if you can defeat me down there.' A jerk of the chin to the large pit. 'But if I win, I get my answers.'

To his surprise, the girl nodded. 'Now?'

Sam nodded grimly. 'Yes.'

~

Faux names were given to the pit master, and they jumped in. Enya had already studied him closely, seen the dangerous glint in his eyes as well as the array of wicked-looking blades sheathed at his side. As he had studied her. Enya bore no weapons save for two beautiful hunting knives. But weapons weren't allowed in the ring anyway.

The man raked a final stare over her body. Little did he know who he was up against. Enya had trained with the Silent Assassins for thirteen years, under the alias of Erin Coulter. At the age of twelve, the Mute Master had finally deemed her worthy enough to start training with her. A year after that, she had been granted permission to leave. It had been a hard trial, but she had succeeded it.

The man raised a brow, and the fight began.

~

He was surprised. Very surprised. She fought well. So well, in fact, that he almost thought this must have been Celaena. She had her eyes, though her hair was a whole shade lighter. As if she'd spent the past few years training in the sun. He struck, ramming his fist low. But she was already there, and met the blow with a strong forearm. Gritting his teeth, he flung out an arm and sidestepped as she dealt two return blows: a punch and a sweep of the leg. She moved like an asp, strong and fast. Sam couldn't remember the last time he'd had an opponent like this. Maybe he was just out of practice.

The girl struck again.

~

A good while later, Enya was still on her feet. As was the man. She whirled as he slammed a fist towards her jaw. But by then, it was too late. She spotted the trap a heartbeat after she slammed into it. He swept his leg, and suddenly she was tumbling to the ground. Then-

Dizzying blackness.

~

Enya awoke, and was already out of her binds, spitting out the gag as the man turned around. He raised a brow, and asked, 'Where did you learn to do that?' After surveying the room with a predator's eyes, she looked back at him. And as if this was a civilised, polite conversation in which she hadn't just been bound and gagged, she replied, 'I trained.'

'You're an assassin.'

Enya blinked, the only sign of shock she showed. Something like curiosity flickered in his eyes. He walked towards the wooden table - a beautifully carved masterpiece. 'Is this your place?' She asked. The man snorted. 'Last time I remember, we agreed that whoever won would ask the questions.' Enya's eyes flickered to the door, such a brief glance, and yet the man caught the movement. A dagger embedded itself beside her neck, and he stalked back towards her, yanking the blade from the wall, holding it to her throat. 'So, tell me. What is your name?'

'Tael.'

'Full name.'

'Musfa.'

The dagger pressed harder into her throat. 'You're lying.'

How could he tell? 'No, I'm not.'

'Do not take me for a fool.'

'It was a good name,' she said, pushing her lips to the side. 'Freya Cortland.'

The man barked a laugh. 'You do think I'm stupid. Third chance. And your last one, too.'

Fine. 'Erin,' she scowled. 'Erin Coulter.' The man brought the lie because she'd wielded it like the truth until it became the truth. Everyone believed it. The only think that kept her from forgetting herself - her real self - were the words: My name is Enya Ashryver Galathynius, and if the stars shine strong, so shall I.

He didn't draw the dagger away; instead, a second one dug into her wrist as her fists clenched. 'So, Erin from the Red Desert, what brings you to this shit-hole of a city?'

She noticed he didn't say of, rather, he had said from. Maybe he wasn't as brutish as he appeared. 'This and that.'

'I want full, proper answers, or you may as well die. You are no use to me otherwise.'

Well, then. Sucking in a breath, she replied truthfully, 'Searching.'

He cocked his head to the side. 'I can make you talk in other ways.'

'I don't think so.' Faster than the asp, she drove her knee into his groin, and wrenched the dagger from his fingers. Like a snake turning in on itself, she twisted, and threw him to the ground.

But he was waiting, and as he hit the ground, the man rolled, slamming his elbow into her gut. The air whooshed out of her lungs painfully, and it was pure instinct that had her shifting to the side as he lashed out with a leg. Enya leapt to her feet, ignoring the sharp jolt that her stomach gave, and faced the man. 'Who the rutting hell are you?' she asked.

Both daggers were back in his hands, and he twirled them with a casual ease as he stalked towards her. Stopping a foot away, he sketched an exaggerated bow. 'Sam Cortland, former assassin of the Assassin's Guild. Most certainly not at your service.'

Enya lifted her chin. 'Erin Coulter, former assassin of the Sessiz Suikast. Not pleased to meet you.'

Sam grinned, though still keeping a firm grip on his weapons, and said, 'I think we're going to get on just fine.'