Estella Valehollow's Arc

Chapter 2 of 11

At dawn, a black bird struck the tower window and fell to the sill. Estella picked it up. A strip of cloth was tied to its leg, marked with the old coven's sign. She read the short message twice. They knew where she was. They were afraid of what she was becoming. She set the bird down beside the music box and stared at the runes glowing faintly in the snow below. By noon, a second bird came. It dropped a folded black veil at her feet, stiff with frost and stitched in silver with the coven's mark. Estella knew the cloth. They used it on traitors before the killing blow. Her hands did not shake. She carried the veil down to the circle and laid it on the center stone. She spoke one word. The runes flared red. The cloth caught and burned to ash in seconds. She watched the wind take it. They had named her a traitor. So be it. They would come for her now, and she would have to be ready before she could ever reach him. She walked to the edge of the ridge with a jagged crystal cradled in both hands. Its core pulsed blue and purple, cold against her palms. She drove the point into the frozen earth at the gate. She bled onto its base and whispered the binding. A low hum spread outward, sinking into the snow. Any sister who crossed that line would feel it in her teeth. Estella stood and looked back at the keep. The hunt for him would have to wait. First, she would meet the ones who came to stop her.