Ruth was still standing on the threshold of the house of mystery, watching us.

She waved her hands, flitted in, was hidden from us.

And Drake still silent, we pushed on.
The walls of the gateway were close.

The sparse vegetation along the base of the cliffs had ceased; the roadway itself had merged into the smooth, bare floor of the canyon.

From vertical edge to vertical edge of the rocky portal stretched a curtain of shimmering mist.