Chapter 15 · Sand in the Pendant

The pendant caught the arena lights wrong. That silver chain, the way it swung when the guy stepped into the ring—I knew the weight of it. I'd watched Mom tuck it under her collar every morning for years before the shelter went dark.

My opponent grinned. Scar across his jaw, built like he'd been eating double rations his whole life. The kind of guy Steelhook loved. "Ruin, right?" he said. "Heard you got a mouth on you."

I couldn't look away from the pendant. It was hers. The little glass vial inside, the one she'd filled with red sand from the last surface run she ever made. Gone for ten years and this asshole was wearing it like a trophy.

"Where'd you get that," I said. Not a question.

He touched it, casual. "This? Found it in a salvage pile. Why, you want it?"

The crowd was screaming but I couldn't hear them anymore. Just the sound of sand hissing against the arena barriers, the storm winds testing the shield dome overhead. My hands were shaking. I could feel the sand in the arena floor pulling toward me, waiting.

"Yeah," I said. "I want it.