Primrose Egghart's Arc

Chapter 9 of 10

The path climbs steadily upward through trees that thin as they go, letting more light through. The creature still rests on Primrose's shoulder, its small weight familiar now. Then it stiffens. Its hand grips her collar, and before she can ask what's wrong, it launches into the air and shoots forward down the path. Primrose breaks into a run, trying to keep the lavender shape in sight as it darts between branches. Her basket bounces against her hip, the eggs inside rattling together. The creature doesn't slow or circle back. It flies straight ahead like something is pulling it forward, the same way the crystal egg pulled her basket before it hatched. She rounds a bend and sees the path end at a small wooden building with faded paint. The door stands open, swinging slowly on its hinges. The creature hovers just outside the doorway, wings beating fast, head turning back to look at her with wide purple eyes. Primrose slows to a walk as she reaches the building. Lavender leaves scatter across the ground in a wide spray, like something rushed through them in panic. Pink vines climb the white wooden gate beside the doorway, their blooms trembling in the breeze. The broken latch dangles loose. The creature won't go inside. It keeps darting toward the door and then jerking back, its whole body shaking. Primrose steps past it and peers through the opening. White and brown feathers cover the floor just inside, more than she can count, scattered like someone dropped an armload. They're still settling. The creature lands on her shoulder again and pulls at her hair, trying to turn her away from the door. But Primrose sees something else among the feathers. A shape. Small and oval and lavender with yellow stripes. The egg. The real one, the one that's been leading her all this time. It sits perfectly still in the center of the feathers, waiting. Not hiding. Not running. Just there. The creature's grip on her hair tightens, almost painful now. Primrose doesn't grab for the egg. She sets her basket down on the threshold where the egg can see it clearly, then steps back three paces. The creature releases her hair but stays tense on her shoulder. If the egg came here, it had a reason. If it wanted her to follow, it would have kept running. Instead it stopped in a place that scares even the creature who's been guiding her. Primrose understands now that finding the egg was never about catching it. It was about proving she could choose to wait instead. She sits down on the path, her fancy dress spreading around her, and folds her hands in her lap. The egg doesn't move. Neither does she. The door keeps swinging.