Sam," she said."I'm trying!""Sam," she repeated."No," he spat, hearing her tone. "No!"He began screaming for help then. Celaena pressed her face to one of the holes in the grate. Help wasn't going to come-not fast enough."Please," Sam begged as he beat and yanked on the grate, he tried to wedge another dagger under the lid. "Please don't."She knew he wasn't speaking to her.The water hit her neck."Please," Sam moaned, his fingers now touching hers. She'd have one last breath. Her last words."Take my body home to Terrasen, Sam," she whispered. And with a gasping breath, she went under.

She shook off his grip. "I am what I am, and I don't particularly care what you think of me.” "Well, I care what you think of me. I care enough that I stayed at this disgusting party for you. And I care enough that I'd attend a thousand more like it so I can spend a few hours with you when you aren't looking at me like I'M not worth the dirt beneath your shoes.

You're back," Sam said, as if he couldn't quite believe it.She lifted her chin, stuffing her hands in her pockets. "Obviously."He tilted his head slightly to the side. "How was the desert?"There wasn't a scratch on him. Of course, her face had healed too but... "Hot," she said. Sam let out a breathy chuckle.