The Assassin and the Pirate Lord by Sarah J. Maas

close that stopping … stopping was impossible.
    They were going to die.
    But the slaves didn’t cease rowing.
    The dozen pirates were climbing the stairs. Sam had been trained to engage multiple men in combat, but a dozen pirates … Damn Rolfe and his men for delaying her!
    Sam glanced toward the stairs. He knew about the pirates, too.
    With a quarter of a mile left, she could see everything with such maddening clarity. Sam remained atop the tower. A level below him, perched on a platform jutting out over the sea, sat the two catapults. And in the bay, the two ships that rowed with increasing speed. Freedom or death.
    Sam slung himself down to the catapult level, and Celaena staggered a step as she saw him hurl himself against the rotating platform on which the catapult sat, pushing, pushing, pushing until the catapult began to move—not toward the sea, but toward the tower itself, toward the spot in the stone wall where the chain was anchored.
    She didn’t dare take her attention from the tower as Sam heaved the catapult into position. A boulder had already been loaded, and in the glare of the rising sun, she could just make out the rope stretched taut to secure the catapult.
    The pirates were almost at the catapult level. The two ships rowed faster and faster, the chain so close that its shadow loomed over them.
    Celaena sucked in a breath as pirates poured onto the catapult landing, weapons held high.
    Sam raised his sword. Light from the sunrise gleamed off the blade, bright as a star.
    A warning cry broke from her lips as a pirate’s dagger flipped toward Sam.
    Sam brought his sword down on the catapult rope, doubling over. The catapult snapped so fast she could hardly follow the motion. The boulder slammed into the tower, shattering stone, wood, and metal. Rock exploded, dust clouding the air.
    And with a boom that echoed across the bay, the chain collapsed, taking out a chunk of the tower—taking out the spot where she’d last seen Sam.
    Celaena, at the tower at last, paused to watch as the white sails of the slaves’ ships unfurled, glowing golden in the sunrise.
    The wind filled their sails and set them cruising, flying swiftly from the mouth of the bay and into the ocean beyond it. By the time the pirates fixed their ships, the slaves would be too far away to catch.
    She murmured a prayer for them to find a safe harbor, her words carrying on the wings of the wind, and wished them well.
    A block of stone crashed near her. Celaena’s heart gave a lurch. Sam.
    He couldn’t be dead. Not from that dagger, or those dozen pirates, or from the catapult. No, Sam couldn’t be
so
stupid that he’d get himself killed. She’d … she’d … Well, she’d kill him if he was dead.
    Drawing her sword despite the ache in her arm, she made to rush into the half-wrecked tower, but a dagger pressed against her neck halted her in her tracks.
    â€œI don’t think so,” Rolfe whispered in her ear.

Chapter Ten
    â€œYou 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.
    â€œWhy 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?
    â€œDo 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