The trees thinned all at once.
No warning. No sound.
One moment we were brushing through narrow, overgrown trails, ducking under moss-draped limbs — and the next, we stood at the edge of something ancient and waiting.
An orchard stretched out before us, but nothing about it was natural. The trees stood in perfect rows, twisted trunks of smooth stone coiling like frozen smoke. Their silver leaves shimmered even though no breeze stirred. Roots webbed across the ground like veins, pulsing faintly with a pale, living glow beneath the soil.
And the fruits?
Not fruits at all.
Faces.
Hollow-eyed. Mask-like. Some beautiful, some grotesque. All completely still.
The air carried a hush — like we weren't supposed to be here. Or maybe like we were expected.
"The Garden of Riddles," Alice said, stopping just short of where the grass gave way to silver roots. Her voice was lower than usual, careful. "From here on, speak only when spoken to. And when they ask… answer truthfully. Even if it hurts."
I glanced at Arisa. Her jaw was tight, fingers fidgeting at the hem of her sleeve. James looked pale, but he nodded once.
I shifted the Aurumglass in my bag, tucking it deeper — but I could still feel it. Still warm. Still watching.
We stepped in.
The moment we crossed the edge, the orchard changed. The air grew denser. The silence was deeper here, like sound was being swallowed whole.
The first mask dropped from a branch directly in front of me. It hovered at my eye level, turning slowly. Then it spoke in a voice I recognized — my own, but twisted. Flat. Hollow.
"What do you fear becoming?"
I stiffened. My mind spiraled through too many answers, but one rose above the rest like a bruise.
"A shadow of myself," I said quietly. "Someone who hurts people and justifies it."
The mask didn't move.
"Who do you blame for the past you carry?"
My throat tightened.
"Myself."
The mask paused — then slowly rotated again.
"Would you trade your truth for peace?"
I didn't even hesitate. "No."
The mask bobbed once… then floated away into the trees, vanishing between branches.
Arisa was next.
Her mask drifted toward her, sharp and narrow, like the face of a snake.
"What are you most proud of… and most ashamed of?"
She answered slowly. "Proud of how far I've come. Ashamed of what I had to bury to get here."
"Why do you keep pretending to be logical, when you feel everything?"
Her lips pressed into a tight line. "Because if I stop pretending, I'll break."
"What do you love most… that you can't save?"
She blinked hard, then whispered, "My brother."
The mask hovered for a moment longer, then vanished into the leaves.
James went last. His mask looked like it had been scorched by fire — melted at the edges.
"What have you never told anyone?"
He swallowed. "That I watched it happen. The accident. I could've said something, but I froze."
"Do you follow Alex because you trust him… or because you're scared of losing him?"
His shoulders tensed. "…Both."
"If it came to it — would you let him fall to save the rest?"
James didn't answer right away. Then: "No."
The mask flickered — and was gone.
We stood still for a few seconds, letting our breathing even out. My heart thudded in my ears. I glanced around. The masks didn't return. The orchard didn't resist us.
And then one more mask dropped.
Right in front of Alice.
It was small — smooth, expressionless — almost like a child's.
"What did you lose to get here?" it asked.
Just one question.
Only one.
Alice looked at it and said nothing for a long moment. Then finally:
"Everything."
The mask floated up, spun once, and dissolved into silver dust.
I didn't move — but inside, something twisted.
One question?
Why only one?
It made no sense. The garden had rules. Each of us had been asked three. That was the pattern. That was the cost.
But Alice… broke the pattern.
And the garden let her.
I watched her closely as we continued walking. She didn't look back at the vanished mask. Didn't show even a flicker of emotion.
The others didn't seem to notice — too shaken by their own answers.
But me?
The suspicion bloomed like a crack in glass.
She knows more than she's saying.
The thought stuck with me, like a splinter I couldn't pull free.
As we walked deeper into the orchard, I felt the Aurumglass pulse again — like it agreed.