CHAPTER
10
“You make a move, and I’ll spill your throat on the ground,” Rolfe hissed, his
free hand ripping Celaena’s dagger from its sheath and tossing it into the brush.
Then he took her sword, too.
“Why not just kill me right now?”
Rolfe’s breathy laugh tickled her ear. “Because I want to take a long, long
while to enjoy killing you.”
She stared at the half-ruined tower, at the dust still swirling from the catapult’s
destruction. How could Sam have survived that?
“Do you know how much your attempt at playing hero cost me?” Rolfe
pushed his blade into her neck, and her skin split open with a stinging burst.
“Two hundred slaves, plus two ships, plus the seven ships you disabled in the
harbor, plus countless lives.”
She snorted. “Don’t forget the ale from last night.”
Rolfe shifted his blade, digging in and making Celaena wince despite herself.
“I’ll take that from your flesh, too, don’t worry.”
“How’d you find me?” She needed time. Needed something to work with. If
she moved the wrong way, she’d find herself with a cut throat.
“I knew you’d follow Sam. If you were so set on freeing the slaves, then you
certainly wouldn’t leave your companion to die alone. Though I think you
arrived a bit too late for that.”
In the dense jungle, the cries of birds and beasts slowly returned. But the
watchtower remained silent, interrupted only by the hiss of crumbling stone.
“You’re going to return with me,” Rolfe said. “And after I’m done with you,
I’ll contact your master to come pick up the pieces.”
Rolfe took a step, pivoting them toward the town, but Celaena had been
waiting.
Throwing her back into his chest, she hooked her foot behind his. Rolfe
stumbled, tripping over her leg, and she wedged her hand between her neck and
his dagger just as he remembered to act on his promise to slit her throat.
Blood from her palm splattered down her tunic, but she shoved the pain aside
and butted her elbow into his stomach. Rolfe’s breath whooshed out of him, and
he doubled over, only to meet her knee slamming into his face. A faint crack
sounded as her kneecap connected with his nose. When she hurled Rolfe to the
dirt, blood was on her pant leg—his blood.
She grabbed his fallen dagger as the Pirate Lord reached for his sword. He
scrambled to his knees, lunging for her, but she stomped her foot down upon his
sword, sending it crashing to the ground. Rolfe raised his head just in time for
her to knock him onto his back. Crouching over him, she held his dagger to his
neck.
“Well, that didn’t go the way you expected, did it?” she asked, listening for a
moment to ensure no pirates were about to come crashing down the road. But the
animals still hooted and screeched, the insects still hummed. They were alone.
Most of the pirates were probably brawling in the town.
Her hand throbbed, blood pouring out as she grasped the collar of his tunic to
lift his head closer to hers.
“So,” she said, her smirk widening at the blood dripping from his nose. “This
is what’s going to happen.” She dropped his collar and fished out the two papers
from inside her tunic. Compared to the pain in her hand, the injury on her arm
had faded to a dull pulsing. “You are going to sign these and stamp each with
your seal.”
“I refuse,” Rolfe seethed.
“You don’t even know what they say.” She pushed the tip of the dagger into
his heaving throat. “So allow me to clarify: one of these is a letter to my master.
It says that the deal is over, that you won’t be sending him slaves, and if you
catch him entering into another slave-trade agreement with anyone else, you’ll
bring your whole armada to punish him.”
Rolfe choked. “You’re insane.”
“Maybe,” she said. “But I’m not done yet.” She picked up the second letter.
“This one … I wrote this one for you. I did my best to try to write it in your
voice, but you’ll forgive me if it’s a tad more elegant than you’re used to being.”
Rolfe struggled, but she pushed the blade a little harder, and he stopped.
“Basically,” she said, sighing dramatically, “this one says that you, Captain
Rolfe, bearer of the magical map inked on your hands, will never, ever sell a
slave again. And if you catch any pirates selling or transporting or trading slaves,
you’ll hang, burn, or drown them yourself. And that Skull’s Bay is forevermore
a safe haven for any slaves fleeing Adarlan’s clutches.”
Rolfe practically had steam blowing out his ears. “I won’t sign either of them,
you stupid girl. Don’t you know who I am?”
̴Fine,” she said, angling the blade to sink into his flesh more easily. “I
memorized your signature when I was in your office that first day. It won’t be
hard to forge. And as for your seal ring …” She removed something else from
her pocket. “I also took that the first day in your office, just in case I needed it.
Turns out I was right.” Rolfe croaked as she held it up in her free hand, the
garnet flashing in the light. “I figure I can return to town and tell your cronies
that you decided to set sail after those slaves, and to expect you back in … I
don’t know—six months? A year? Long enough that they won’t notice the grave
I’ll dig for you right off the road here. Frankly, you’ve seen who I am, and I
should end your life for it. But consider it a favor—and a promise that if you
don’t follow my orders, I’ll change my decision to spare you.”
Rolfe’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Why?”
“You’ll have to clarify that.”
He took a breath. “Why go to so much trouble for slaves?”
“Because if we don’t fight for them, who will?” She pulled a fountain pen
from her pocket. “Sign the papers.”
Rolfe raised an eyebrow. “And how will you know that I’m holding true to
my word?”
She removed the dagger from his throat, using the blade to brush back a strand
of his dark hair. “I have my sources. And if I hear that you’re trading slaves, no
matter where you go, no matter how far you run, I will hunt you down. That’s
twice now I’ve disabled you. The third time, you won’t be so lucky. I swear that
on my name. I’m almost seventeen, and I can already wallop you; imagine how
good I’ll be in a few years.” She shook her head. “I don’t think you’ll want to try
me now—and certainly not then.”
Rolfe stared at her for a few heartbeats. “If you ever set foot in my territory
again, your life is forfeit.” He paused, then muttered, “May the gods help
Arobynn.” He took the pen. “Any other requests?”
She eased off him, but kept the dagger in her hand. “Why, yes,” she said. “A
ship would be nice.”
Rolfe only glared at her before he grabbed the documents.
When Rolfe had signed, stamped, and handed the documents to Celaena, she
took the liberty of knocking him out again. Swift blows to two points in his neck
did the trick, and he’d be out long enough for her to accomplish what she
needed: to find Sam.
She raced up the half-crumbling stairs of the tower, leaping over pirate
corpses and chunks of stone, not stopping until she found the crushed bodies of
the dozen pirates who were closest to Sam and the ruins of the catapults. Blood,
bone, squished bits of flesh that she didn’t particularly care to look at for too
long …
“Sam!” she shouted, slipping over a bit of debris. She heaved a slab of wood
off the side, scanning the landing for any sign of him. “Sam!”
Her hand began bleeding again, leaving smears of blood as she turned over
stone and wood and metal. Where was he?
It had been her plan. If one of them had to die for it, it should have been her.
Not him.
She reached the second catapult, its entire frame snapped in half from a fallen
piece of tower. She’d last seen him here. A slab of stone jutted up from where it
had hit the landing. It was large enough to have squashed someone beneath.
She hurled herself against it, her feet sliding against the ground as she pushed
and pushed and pushed. The stone didn’t move.
Grunting, gasping, she shoved harder. Still the stone was too large.
Cursing, she beat a fist against the gray surface, her injured hand aching in
protest. The pain snapped something open, and she struck the stone again and
again, clenching her jaw to keep the building scream inside of her.
“For some reason, I don’t think that’s going to make the rock move,” said a
voice, and Celaena whirled.
Emerging from the other side of the landing was Sam. He was covered head to
toe in gray dust, and blood leaked from a cut in his forehead, but he was …
She lifted her chin. “I’ve been shouting for you.”
Sam shrugged, sauntering over to her. “I figured you could wait a few
minutes, given that I saved the day and all.” His brows rose high on his ashcovered face.
“Some hero.” She gestured to the ruin of the tower around them. “I’ve never
seen such sloppy work.”
Sam smiled, his brown eyes turning golden in the dawn. It was such a Sam
look, the twinkle of mischief, the hint of exasperation, the kindness that would
always, always make him a better person than she was.
Before she knew what she was doing, Celaena threw her arms around him and
held him close.
Sam stiffened, but after a heartbeat, his arms came around her. She breathed
him in—the smell of his sweat, the tang of the dust and rock, the metallic odor of
his blood … Sam rested his cheek on her head. She couldn’t remember—
honestly couldn’t recall—the last time anyone had held her. No, wait—it had
been a year ago. With Ben, after she’d come back from a mission two hours late
and with a sprained ankle. He’d been worried, and given how close she’d come
to being captured by the royal guards, she was more than a bit shaken.
But embracing Sam was different, somehow. Like she wanted to curl into his
warmth, like for one moment, she didn’t have to worry about anything or
anybody.
“Sam,” she murmured into his chest.
“Hmm?”
She peeled away from him, stepping out of his arms. “If you ever tell anyone
about me embracing you … I’ll gut you.”
Sam gaped at her, then tipped his head back and laughed. He laughed and
laughed, until dust lodged in his throat and he launched into a coughing fit. She
let him suffer through it, not finding it very funny at all.
When he could breathe again, Sam cleared his throat. “Come on, Sardothien,”
he said, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “If you’re done liberating slaves
and destroying pirate cities, then let’s go home.”
Celaena glanced at him sidelong and grinned.
