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.
What are you doing?”Celaena lifted another piece of paper. “If His Pirateness can’t be bothered to clean for us, then I don’t see why I can’t have a look.”“He’ll be here any second,” Sam hissed. She picked up a flattened map, examining the dots and markings along the coastline of their continent. Something small and round gleamed beneath the map, and she slipped it into her pocket before Sam could notice.“Oh, hush,” she said, opening the hutch on the wall adjacent to the desk. “With these creaky floors, we’ll hear him a mile off.” The hutch was crammed with rolled scrolls, quills, the odd coin, and some very old, very expensive-looking brandy. She pulled out a bottle, swirling the amber liquid in the sunlight streaming through the tiny porthole window. “Care for a drink?
He grasped her by the wrist , running a thumb along the sensitive skin underneath. "Then let me call you Mine for a dance or two"She grinned but someone was suddenly between them, a tall, powerfully built person. Sam. He ripped the stranger's hand off of her wrist. "She's spoken for," he growled, all too close to the young man's maked face. The stranger's friend was behind him in an instant, his bronze eyes fixed on Sam.Celaena grabbed Sam's elbow. "Enough," she warned him.The masked stranger looked Sam up and down, then held up his hands. "My mistake," he said, but winked at Celaena before disappeared into the crowd, his armed friend close behind.Celaena whirled to face Sam. "What in hell was that for?""You're drunk," he told her, so close her chest brushed his, "And he knew it, too.""So?" Even as she said it, someone dancing wildly crashed into her and set her reeling. Sam caught her around the waist, his hands firm on her as he kept her from falling to the ground."You'll thank me in the morning." "Just because we're working together doesn't mean I'm suddenly incapable of handling myself." His hands were still on her waist."Let me take you home.
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.