The Assassin and the Underworld (Throne of Glass 0.4)(25)

Sam’s teeth flashed in the torchlight as he smiled. “And they’ll be preoccupied long enough for someone to slip in and find a good hiding spot in the cellar to wait out the rest of the time until seven thirty.”

“What a surprise they’ll have tomorrow, when they find their cellar door unlocked.”

“I think that’ll be the least of their surprises tomorrow.”

She picked up her torch. “It certainly will be.” He followed her back down the sewer walkway. They’d found a grate in a shadowy alley, far enough away from the house that no one would suspect them. Unfortunately, it meant a long walk back through the sewers.

“I heard you paid off Arobynn this morning,” he said, his eyes on the dark stones beneath their feet. He still kept his voice soft. “How does it feel to be free?”

She glanced at him sidelong. “Not the way I thought it would.”

“I’m surprised he took the money without a fight.”

She didn’t say anything. In the dim light, Sam took a ragged breath.

“I think I might leave,” he whispered.

She almost tripped. “Leave?”

He wouldn’t look at her. “I’m going down to Eyllwe—to Banjali, to be precise.”

“For a mission?” It was common for Arobynn to send them all over the continent, but the way Sam was speaking felt … different.

“Forever,” he said.

“Why?” Her voice sounded a little shrill in her ears.

He faced her. “What do I have to tie me here? Arobynn already mentioned that it might be useful to firmly establish ourselves in the south, too.”

“Arobynn—” she seethed, fighting to keep her voice to a whisper. “You talked to Arobynn about this?”

Sam gave her a half shrug. “Casually. It’s not official.”

“But—but Banjali is a thousand miles away.”

“Yes, but Rifthold belongs to you and Arobynn. I’ll always be … an alternative.”

“I’d rather be an alternative in Rifthold than ruler of the assassins in Banjali.” She hated that she had to keep her voice so soft. She was going to splatter someone against a wall. She was going to rip down the sewer with her bare hands.

“I’m leaving at the end of the month,” he said, still calm.

“That’s two weeks away!”

“Do I have any reason why I should stay here?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed as loudly as she could while still maintaining a hushed tone. “Yes, you do.” He didn’t reply. “You can’t go.”

“Give me a reason why I shouldn’t.”

“Because I’ll miss you, damn it!” she hissed, splaying her arms. “Because what was the point in anything if you just disappear forever?”

“The point in what, Celaena?” How could he be so calm when she was so frantic?

“The point in Skull’s Bay, and the point in getting me that music, and the point in … the point in telling Arobynn that you’d forgive him if he never hurt me again.”

“You said you didn’t care what I thought. Or what I did. Or if I died, if I’m not mistaken.”

“I lied! And you know I lied, you stupid bastard!”

He laughed quietly. “You want to know how I spent this summer?” She went still. He ran a hand through his brown hair. “I spent every single day fighting the urge to slit Arobynn’s throat. And he knew I wanted to kill him.”

I’ll kill you! Sam had screamed at Arobynn.

“The moment I woke up after he beat me, I realized I had to leave. Because I was going to kill him if I didn’t. But I couldn’t.” He studied her face. “Not until you came back. Not until I knew you were all right—until I saw that you were safe.”

Breathing became very, very hard.

“He knew that, too,” Sam went on. “So he decided to exploit it. He didn’t recommend me for missions. Instead, he made me help Lysandra and Clarisse. He made me escort them around the city on picnics and to parties. It became a game between the two of us—how much of his horseshit I could take before I snapped. But we both knew he’d always have the winning hand. He’d always have you. Still, I spent every day this summer hoping you’d come back in one piece. More than that—I hoped you’d come back and take revenge for what he’d done to you.”

But she hadn’t. She’d come back and let Arobynn shower her with gifts.

“And now that you’re fine, Celaena, now that you’ve paid off your debt, I can’t stay in Rifthold. Not after all the things he’s done to us.”

She knew it was selfish, and horrible, but she whispered, “Please don’t go.”

He let out an uneven breath. “You’ll be fine without me. You always have been.”

Maybe once, but not now. “How can I convince you to stay?”

“You can’t.”

She threw down the torch. “Do you want me to beg, is that it?”

“No—never.”

“Then tell me—”

“What more can I say?” he exploded, his whisper rough and harsh. “I’ve already told you everything—I’ve already told you that if I stay here, if I have to live with Arobynn, I’ll snap his damned neck.”