““Sam swore violently and began yanking on the grate cover again. “Come on,” he whispered, more to himself than to her. “Come on.” The water was around her waist now, and over her chest a moment after that. Rain continued streaming in through the grate, blinding her senses. “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. She’d never given much thought to how she’d die, but drowning somehow felt fitting. It was a river in her native country of Terrasen that had almost claimed her life nine years ago—and now it seemed that whatever bargain she’d struck with the gods that night was finally over. The water would have her, one way or another, no matter how long it took.””
