Primrose Egghart's Arc

Chapter 2 of 7

The prints don't stop at the burrow. Primrose sees them now, trailing away through the grass in a line so clear she wonders how she missed it before. They press into the soft earth between dandelions and clover, each tiny mark pointing the same direction — away from the oak tree, away from all the places she already searched. She stands and follows them. Her basket stays behind, propped against the oak's roots with its blue grass arranged just so. If the egg comes back while she's gone, it will know she left something for it. The prints lead her past the spot where she found the yellow egg, then past the lavender rocks where two more hid in the crevices. They wind through tall grass that brushes her knees and across a patch of bare dirt where the marks show up darkest. The trail ends at a tree she's never really looked at before — a hollow tree with pale pink flowers covering its branches and a blue door set into its trunk. The prints circle the door three times, then stop. Primrose kneels and touches the last mark. It's fresh. She looks up at the door, then at the white gazebo just beyond it, wrapped in vines and yellow flowers. She walked past both these things twice today and never thought to check them. She doesn't try the door. Instead, she sits on the gazebo steps and waits. The egg led her here on purpose, showed her a path she could follow. Now it knows where she is. If it wants to be found, it will come out. If it wants to stay hidden, forcing the door won't change that. Primrose smooths her dress and watches the blue door. She understands something now she didn't before: the egg isn't running away from her. It's leading her somewhere, one step at a time.