Rising Flames | Throne of Glass

4

Sprawled across the couch in the sitting room of Sam Cortland's apartment, Enya watched as the man prowled up and down the carpeted floor. The curtains were closed, offering no way to see what time of day it was. There were no clocks, either.

Sam finally broke the silence. 'Who are you searching for?'

'I didn't tell you it was a person.'

'Who?' he repeated.

'My sister.'

~

Sam sucked in a breath. Could there be a possibility that... 'When did you join the Mute Master?'

'I've been there since I was a babe. Why?'

'Nothing,' he said roughly. He knew Celaena was from Terrasen, but Erin came from the Red Desert. 'Do you know anyone who goes by the name of Celaena Sardothien?' Sam didn't let the hope consume him, though he was desperate to know - did she know?

Erin shook her head slowly. 'No. I've never heard that name before.' The candle flame of hope flickered. Sam was disappointed - thoroughly disappointed and bewildered - Celaena and Erin could've been twins, if he could be as daring to state so. But instead, he slumped slightly. 'You can go,' he said. 'I've asked all I need.'

It was stupid, to hope.

Erin rose slowly from the couch. He jerked his chin to the door. 'Your weapons are by the entrance.'

The flame guttered, dimming, growing smaller and smaller as Erin walked towards the door. It was no more than a spark as she shut the door behind her.

Sam put his head in his hands. Celaena, Celaena, Celaena. He needed to find a way to get her back, to make sure she came back alive. And Erin could've... could've...

To be honest, he wasn't so sure anymore.

~

Enya didn't know why Sam Cortland had taken such interest in her. Who even was this Celaena Sardothien? Maybe she should've lingered to ask for more details. Maybe he could've helped her. But she didn't get time to decide.

A rustle, then something slammed into the side of her head. The last thing Enya saw was a glint of silver, before darkness rushed in to greet her.

~

Enya found herself bound to a wall for the second time that day. This time, though, it was with iron manacles, and chains were wrapped round her ankles, too.

Screams echoed down the stone corridors, and despite herself, there was fear pricking the hairs on the back of her neck. 'You're awake.' The voice came from the shadows, a low, male purr.

She didn't deign to reply.

'Stubborn?'

The voice suddenly had an owner. A red-haired man stepped out into the dim torchlight. He had silver eyes - ones that promised pain - and long, slender fingers that clutched a pair of knives. 'Don't worry. I'll have you talking in no time.'

Poison and venom torture, mental torture - both were something that Enya was able to resist, but none of her elders in the Sessiz Suikast had ever been willing to inflict physical torture upon her. This was a weakness. And the man seemed to know it. He stepped closer.

Enya, much like her cousin Aedion, did not posses the ability to shift or any power; instead, her senses were heightened - hearing and smell especially. Right now, it reeked of death and blood and wickedness.

She gasped as a knife dug into her knee, through the fabric, and deep into the flesh. Pull yourself together. Don't- don't cry. Her skin seemed to splinter and crack as the man began to twist the knife.

No. No.

Enya opened her mouth in a wordless scream. The man pushed harder, and a shriek ripped through her teeth.

Too much. It was too much. Fire and lava and flame raced through her leg. Pain. It was like-

Another scream shattered the air as the man withdrew the knife, and began pressing the wound. And it was salt and iron dust he rubbed there. Blood soaked her pants, dribbling down her leg. Why was he so cruel? Even the Mute Master hadn't-

Too much. Too far. The man stopped, holding his fingers up to the light.

Blood - her blood - dripped down them, thick and red and dark. Enya retched, but nothing came out. The man smiled, and it was cold, cold like the stone around them, and evil. 'That was quite pathetic,' he commented. 'Your sister could hold out longer than this.'

Her sister?

'Bastard,' she managed to gasp out through the pain.

The man chuckled. 'She called me that plenty, too.'

'Who are you? Where am I?'

He tsked. 'Questions. Always the same questions. Perhaps I should've introduced myself first.' He studied the crimson stain on his index finger. 'My name is Arobynn Hamel, King of the Assassins, and owner of the Assassin's Guild.'

Sam said he formerly worked for this man, this organisation. It wasn't surprising that he left, seeing as their leader was like this.

'Tell me your name,' Arobynn whispered.

'Never,' she hissed.

Arobynn fingered her other knee. She wanted his fingers off - off her body. 'Stop touching me,' she snarled.

'What is your name?' He repeated. His fingers were now tracing the inside of her thighs. Enya couldn't dislodge them; if her feet were in the ground, it would've been simple to lash out, but the problem was that she was nowhere near the ground - in fact, she was currently suspended a foot off the floor. A sliver of fear wormed around in her gut at all the possible scenarios that could occur leading on from this.

Arobynn said, 'I will tell you a secret if you tell me your name.' A bargain. Fair, but...

'How do I know you're not lying?' Enya felt like a child compared to the man before her. His presence was stifling and uncomfortably dominating.

'I do not lie.'

Enya wasn't in a position to argue further. With a heavy heart, she accepted. 'My name is Erin-'

She hadn't even gotten past the first word when he struck her. The rusty, coppery tang of blood filled her mouth. 'Your name,' Arobynn growled. 'I do not want anything else.'

'Enya.' she ground out. 'Enya Ashryver-'

'Galathynius,' Arobynn finished, with a somewhat flummoxed look on his face. 'Wonderful. Now, to show you I am a man true to his word, listen carefully to this.'

He leaned in to her ear. Enya stilled, quieting her uneven breaths. 'Celaena Sardothien is who you seek. Find her, and your search is complete.'

How he knew who she was searching for, she had no idea. But Enya needed answers.

And there was only one person who would have them. Someone, not Arobynn, who could be willing to help.

Sam. She needed to find Sam.