Deeper in, the trees open into a hollow strung with lanterns.
Something enormous and patient adjusts its spectacles.
THE RITE OF THREE QUESTIONS
She will ask you three things. A gathering that still lives in your body. What you actually want. What you’d make if fear paid rent somewhere else. Answer with your voice or your keys — she hears both, and she can tell when you’re giving the party answer.
When the third true answer lands, the way opens.
“Go warm, little flame. The wood already likes you better than most.”