Dutch's Arc

Chapter 1 of 6

Dutch stepped through the tall arched doors of the academy with her ring tucked tight against her finger. Six weeks. That was all she had left to bond with a creature before the school sent her home. She kept her hand closed around the dark stone, the way her grandmother taught her, so the magic in her blood stayed quiet. A small white animal with ink-black paws waited at her boots. "Dowry," it said, voice clipped and certain. "Your guide. Follow." The stoat led her through the upper halls, naming classrooms and the hour each one opened. Dutch touched each doorframe to remember. Then Dowry took her down. The lower halls breathed cold. Dutch stopped at a stone room where the chill pressed against her teeth like a question. She pulled her hand back from the wall. Something in the dark pulled her ring forward instead, tasting the heirloom stone. Dowry's fur lifted. "Out. Now." The stoat hurried her back up the stairs and past the weeping angels carved at the dormitory gate — the markers students used to warn each other where the halls turned wrong. Dutch did not look back, though she felt eyes on the ring the whole climb. That night she locked her door. She set the ring beside her pillow and slept. When she woke, a red crystal sat on the bedside table, shimmering wet. It had not been there before. Something had stood over her in the dark, and it had left its mark.