Seven’s back slammed into the marble balcony so hard that she saw stars. She only had one thought as the creature pinned her there, her head dangling precariously over the magma, Pocket squealing as he slid out of her shirt.

  The sword.

  She held onto it with every last bit of her strength, ignoring the creature’s other arm as it closed around her throat. Ignoring the searing heat of the lava against her neck. Ignoring the alarming feeling of her Luck draining by the second.

  There had to be a way to fight back. Had to be a way to win.

  There was always a way to win.

  And, like it or not, she’d taken this gamble. Had bet on herself for once. Had taken this job at LMC, had promised Emmet she’d come back to finish the job.

  Seven wasn’t a quitter. And I’m not about to let this thing kill me, she thought blearily. “Dimensional portal or not,” she muttered through gritted teeth.

  The creature leaned forward, and Seven yelped as venom dripped onto her shirt shoulder, hissing as it burned the shirt away and seared into her chest. Bravado or not, she hadn’t been prepared to die working for LMC. And this was certainly very different from playing at a table for a few chips.

  Seven pushed the thought out of her mind and focused on the problem at hand. She’d have one shot to kill the thing. One burst of Luck, perhaps, before she’d be completely drained. She focused it into her sword arm, which was currently pinned beneath one of the beast’s great claws.

  She willed it into her hand, feeling that warmth and strength course through muscle and bone both, solidifying them, strengthening them. Just a little more, she thought as the thing roared again and its claws pierced into her forearms. Seven ignored the pain and willed every bit of Luck she had into her left arm, praying to the Thirteen and any other gods out there that it would work.

  She took a deep, shuddering breath, and the world went quiet.

  Seven ripped her sword arm free and plunged it as hard as she could through the beast’s mouth, sword and all.

  It roared, shuddered, then went still.

  Then it collapsed on top of her.

  Shit, she thought, feeling that weight engulf her, pinning her to the marble. Had she used all of her Luck? She plunged into that power again, feeling it alarmingly empty, but then she found the dredges of it—just enough to let her turn the creature over, crawl away, and collapse on the cold marble nearby.

  Seven sat like that for several seconds, her breath coming in thick gasps, the world going blurry as her vision tunneled. Blearily, she glanced at her sword arm. There was a gash there, filled with venom.

  This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Well that explains it, she thought, feeling sick. She could barely move, but she unhooked her canteen from her belt and poured a messy splash of it over her arm, hoping it would be enough. The pain ebbed a bit, but her vision didn’t clear.

  A tiny shriek of excitement broke through the darkness, and Seven opened her eyes again to find Pocket bouncing on her chest.

  “May I file a claim on your mattress yet?” he demanded.

  “Am I dead yet?” Her words came out slurred. Pocket tilted his little head at her, studying her.

  “I can never really tell. I think the red stuff is supposed to be on the inside. But Seven, look! Shards!”

  That, at least, got her attention. She sat up on one elbow, wincing at the pain she felt…well, everywhere, really, and blinked, trying to clear her vision.

  The beast’s body lay nearby, reeking of that sickly sweet metallic smell she hadn’t been able to identify when she’d first stepped off the lift. It was a miracle it hadn’t plunged into the lava nearby. But the bigger miracle was hovering over the creature’s head, floating in the air above it like some sort of prize to be claimed.

  Shards.

  Real shards. Whole shards, the pieces nearly large enough to be dice. Shards so bright, in fact, that she had to shield her eyes. She’d only seen dice or shards so powerful once before—in her family’s dice vault, just before she’d been banned.

  It was impossible not to be mesmerized by the things. Besides the fact that she could barely see straight, there were three of them, all dazzlingly bright, the crimson burning within them like tiny glowing stars. Shards with that kind of fire in them might even weather her cursed hands, for Luck’s sake—not that it was a chance she wanted to take.

  She’d long ago figured out that most dice wouldn’t survive her touch at all, but she couldn’t help but wonder if she just hadn’t found one strong enough; after all, she’d successfully palmed the spelunker dice, and while it was draining quickly, it was useable. There was something that would allow her to use dice—she just wasn’t sure what it was yet. And yet, she double-checked the integrity of her gloves before approaching the shards. Just in case.

  Seven forced herself onto her hands and knees, the room spinning, and claimed the shards with gloved hands, shoving them into the shard bag she’d spent precious chips on back in town. The bag had seemed a hopeless gamble at the time—worthless if she didn’t find anything of note—but now she was glad she’d sprung for the extra features.

  A tiny little dice-powered pop-up sprang into life before her eyes, and she squinted at it, trying to read the display with vision that swam. A tiny grin spread across her face.

  “Fireball, steel claw, and venom attacks,” she read off, grinning. “Imagine the damage we could do if we could make dice out of them.” She shook her head, then added, “Pocket, I think we might do okay down here after all.”

  “What exactly do you consider ‘okay’? You can’t even use the dice you might be able to make with those shards. If you’re thinking of hunting down these things—“

  “Maybe not, but with that kind of fire in the shards, I’ll have a way to fight back,” she said, stuffing the bag away in her larger bag. “And if the things guarding this place drop that kind of loot, who knows what else we’ll find.” She shook her head, feeling strangely optimistic as her shard counter pinged a number she couldn’t read. “We could be out of here in a day, even.”

  “Is that why your head’s swaying?” Pocket asked. “With excitement?”

  Seven didn’t have time to respond before her vision frayed at the edges, then went dark.

  Also, if you'd like to read ahead, or sign up for free for news and updates, you can find my .

  NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s and publisher’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.