I claim you, Rowan Whitethorn. I don't care what you say and how much you protest. I claim you as my friend.

And then I am going to rattle the stars.

Because I am lost," she whispered onto the earth. "And I do not know the way.

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's 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!

She had a flicker of memory from a time when, just for a moment, she'd been free; when the world had been wide open and she'd been about to enter it with Sam at her side. It was a freedom that she was still working for, because even though she'd tasted it only for a heartbeat, it had been the most exquisite heartbeat she'd ever experienced.

I like music," she said slowly, "because when I hear it, I . . . I lose myself within myself, if that makes any sense. I become empty and full all at once, and I can feel the whole earth roiling around me. When I play. I'm not . . . for once, I'm not destroying, I'm creating.