Chapter 8 · The Boy in the Storm

They don't let me see the footage right away.

Steelhook's got me in a room with steel walls and one flickering overhead light. No windows. No sand. The air tastes like recycled nothing, and I can't stop checking my palms for burns that aren't there. Ashmark's outside the door—I heard him arguing with someone ten minutes ago, voices muffled through the metal, then silence.

I'm sitting on a chair that's bolted to the floor. My wrists aren't tied, but there's a woman in Ironspine gray standing by the door with her arms crossed. She hasn't said a word since they brought me in. Just watches.

"Can I get water or something?" I try.

Nothing.

"Look, I don't even know what I did. The sand just—"

"You'll see," she says. First words. Her voice is flat, like she's reading off a script she's bored of. "Commander's orders. You watch first. Then we talk."

"Watch what?"

She doesn't answer. The door opens behind her and Steelhook walks in, no Ashmark with him. He's got a tablet in one hand and that same look on his face—