Rising Flames | Throne of Glass

5

'I hate packing.'

The last words Celaena had said to him before he'd left to kill Farran - unbeknownst to both he and her that those would be the last conversation they would share in a long while - along with that final kiss.

~

Crouched in the shadow of a chimney atop an emerald rooftop in Rifthold, he nocked an arrow into the bow clutched tightly in his hands. He had a few more shafts beside him - just in case.

It had to be quick and clean.

And then it would all be done, and they would go - far, far away from Adarlan.

Farran's carriage trundled past, stopping by the cobblestone pavement.

The sadist slipped out, eyes dancing with wicked amusement from whatever nefarious deed he'd just fulfilled.

Another reason why Sam didn't want Celaena to come was because she had to stay safe; he didn't want her anywhere near this monster.

He lifted the bow and drew the string back, arms straining.

Just as he was about to let the arrow fly, something slammed into the side of his head.

He felt himself falling - and then darkness rushed in to greet him.

~

Footsteps. Soft, smooth-

He sat up, bones aching at the rapid movement. He was in the Guild dungeons.

Arobynn Hamel walked into the cell.

'Why did you stop me?' Sam growled.

Arobynn sighed. 'I told you, it is futile, trying to take down Farran. He knew you were there. You would've been captured and tortured.'

He snorted. 'Who knew you could be so generous.'

The King of the Assassins stalked over, grabbing Sam's chin and forcing him to look into his blazing silver eyes. 'I could just give you to Farran right now.'

'But you won't.'

'I wouldn't be so sure.'

His heart skipped a beat, but Sam didn't back down from his glare. Arobynn removed his hand.

Sighing through his nose, he said, 'Let me make this clear, boy. Celaena is mine.' Before he could open his mouth, Arobynn continued, 'You either go to Farran now - or you stage your death and flee. I don't care how you do it. I want you gone.'

Sam swallowed. 'She will be broken. You- you will break her.'

'Nothing is accidental.'

He snarled.

Arobynn smiled, eyes cold. 'Make a decision now.'

'I will do neither.'

'Very well, then.'

Arobynn turned on his heel and stalked out, slamming and locking the cell door behind him.

~

He didn't know how long it had been curled up on the ground, for there was no sense of time here. A muted jingle, and padding footfalls echoed as someone walked through the dungeons.

It stopped by his cell door.

Sam craned his neck. Wesley stood there, a bowl of food in one hand, turning the key in the lock with the other. 'What-'

'Shut up. I'm getting you out. Arobynn and Farran are coming in ten minutes.'

The door swung open.

'Arobynn will kill you.'

'I know what I'm doing, Sam.' He said this with a soft tenderness in his voice.

Sam blinked. Wesley didn't hesitate as he handed dropped the gruel, glass smashing everywhere as it collided with the ground. Then he grabbed a shard and sliced it across his temple.

Blood began gushing.

'Go, Sam,' Wesley said, a small smile on his face. 'I'm not dying yet.'

Sam grabbed the cloak that Wesley handed him, and slipped the hood far over his face.

'Look after Lysandra,' the man said. Sam nodded furiously, unable to convey the gratitude he owed to Wesley.

Then he ran out of the dungeons and past the servants and out into the frigid night.