Question

At dawn I dropped my sewing kit—carved in the shape of a walnut, a keepsake from Gran’s travels—into the pocket of my newly mended dress. Next, I wrote Gran a letter, assuring her I’d venture through the Pathways with caution, marking my trail with unobtrusive white threads. Then I tiptoed out of the cottage and ran half a mile to a line of striped stones that forms an enchanted border across the isle.

Only one person can enter the Pathways each day—a useless ancient spell, given nobody does so. That said, we don’t view it as an evil place: it’s another world, not ours to roam. My strong legs felt weak as I made myself step over the stones into a field, lush despite the drought.

Rich in countless shades of green, it might have been an idyllic spot but for the unsettling mystery of scores of paths, seemingly always deserted, cutting intricate patterns through thick moss. Some wide, some too narrow for my small feet, they braided together, veered apart, made elegant loops around nothing. They all curved into a nearby wood, so I chose a trail at random. Trotting its elaborate windings—it felt wrong to step on the moss—I thought of the saying “Foolish as a mortal in the Pathways.” Now I was that fool.

After I plunged into the forest, tensing at even a buzzing fly, my road branched in a dozen directions. I marked my new route and crept along it. Suddenly footsteps pattered behind me. I whirled around but saw no one, and I continued on to explore eleven of the paths. One led to an empty cave; the rest petered out. I came across a raven, and a flame-colored beetle larger than my sewing kit. Other creatures remained as elusive as the lost magic. This very absence felt like an ominous presence. Walking the twelfth path’s twistings, I expected at any minute to hear an ailing dragon’s groans. Instead, the sound of running water soothed me. Several more bends in the road, and my eyes opened wide. Ahead lay a river spanned by a stone bridge studded with ironbound doors that looked as if they led down into an enormous cottage below. And above the bridge’s cobbled walkway hovered a smattering of stray magic!

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Adapted from Stray Magic, by Maggie Murphy, ©️️ by Cricket Media, Inc. Reproduced with permission.

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Questions
How does the narrator’s perspective impact the story?

The narrator has a third-person omniscient perspective, so the reader knows the thoughts of all characters.

The narrator has a third-person limited perspective, so readers only know the thoughts and feelings of Gran.

The narrator has a first-person perspective, so readers get an objective and unbiased description of the Pathways.

The narrator has a first-person perspective, so readers know they are nervous while traveling through the Pathways.

Answer 1

The correct choice is: "The narrator has a first-person perspective, so readers know they are nervous while traveling through the Pathways."

The passage uses "I" and describes the narrator’s feelings (weak legs, tensing, tiptoed), so readers access the narrator’s nervous thoughts and sensations.