The morning came with a mist so thick it swallowed the yellow door whole. I stood on the path between the houses, unable to see more than a few feet in any direction. The world had shrunk to the damp earth beneath my feet and the sound of the river somewhere ahead, hidden and patient.
Cassian emerged from the mist, his figure taking shape like a memory returning. "They are awake. The children are already dressed."
"The scouts?"
"Everyone. They are eager to see the other side."
I nodded, though he could barely see the motion. "Then we go. The mist will lift by midday."
We gathered at the edge of the garden. The scouts stood together, five adults and three children, their packs light but their eyes heavy with expectation. The man with graying hair stepped forward. His name was Orin. He
