“A little more,” Yulia whispered in Debby’s ear, “don’t be afraid, everything will be fine soon.”

David lifted the stretcher above his head to keep Debby from rolling down. They slowly began to climb the narrow, winding stairs. David’s hands began to shake from fatigue, and he set the door on his head. The wind died down, and the scalding snow stopped falling. They climbed the last step, and David collapsed to the ground with fatigue.

“We need to walk a few more meters,” said Dr Capri, “let me do it.”

David nodded and relented. Sweat ran down his face.

He wiped his sleeve and looked at the stairs they had just climbed. The makeshift steps were of varying heights and stooped from time. In some places, snow covered the stairs. David tried to see the valley they had come from, but the weather was still bad and nothing was visible. The wind rustled and drove a wad of fog in front of David’s eyes. He looked around, and a peak flashed between the clouds. Majestic and calm. It seemed unaffected by the storm. It was illuminated by the sun, and only the fuzzy top showed that the strong wind had blown thousands of tons of snow off the ridge of the giant.

“David,” Dr Capri’s voice was heard, “you will freeze there. Please go deeper into the cave. You have a lighter, don’t you?”

“Yes,” David answered, still breathing heavily, and wiped his face again with his sleeve.

He rose with great effort, stepped into the gloom of the cave, and saw Jean-Pierre trying to wake Debby up. Dr Capri watched him and looked intently at Debby. Yulia was sitting on the cold floor, breathing tiredly. Out of the darkness came the hermit.

“Cold here, but warm in other place. Deeper to go we need. Please,” he looked at the oblivious Debby and then nodded to himself, “Water there. For her we need it.”

“The important thing now is to make a fire and keep her warm. Let’s go a bit more,” Jean-Pierre said, looking at Debby, and took hold of one edge of the door.

The cave was quite wide. Jean-Pierre, David, and Dr Capri took the stretcher and followed the hermit. He walked ahead with Yulia and talked with her nonchalantly about something.

The second hall of the cave was slightly larger than the first and quite spacious. There were several stalactites on the wall opposite the narrow entrance. In the center was a place to keep the fire going, which smoldered slightly. To the left of the entrance were semblances of shelves on which lay books and some dried flowers and plants. On the right was a pile of twigs and a few dry scraps of dung. Near the entrance hung a lamp with several lights burning. The temperature in the cave was very comfortable. First Yulia and then everyone else felt their bodies go limp and relax from the warmth.

The men placed the stretcher next to the smoldering fire.

“Water,” the hermit said, pointing to the iron pot, “good to drink.”

Dr Capri took a small steel pot that stood on a stone near the fire. He poured water on his hand and wiped Debby’s face, touched her tangled hair, and tried to pour some water into her mouth. Debby coughed. That cough made everyone smile and relax even more. Debby began to greedily gulp down the water with her mouth. She drank as if she had taken her last sip of water at her home in Stamford. The water quickly ran out.

David stepped back tiredly and sat down, leaning against the wall near the entrance to the cave. He was tired, his legs and arms disobeying him. Yulia sat beside the stretcher, while the doctor and the Frenchman attended to Debby. They began to examine her leg again. Debby was whispering something incomprehensible and would not open her eyes. The hermit tossed some dry pieces into the fire and listened to Debby’s inarticulate words.

He looked at the girl and the doctor and Jean-Pierre, who were fiddling around her.

“Better will be,” he nodded, “rest and water needed. Tomorrow we can see.”

“Tomorrow?” Jean-Pierre was indignant. “We need to get her out of here as quickly as possible.”

“Storm just begun,” Bhrigu said, pointing to the exit.

Jean-Pierre looked at the doctor and Yulia. They looked back tiredly. Jean-Pierre got up and walked toward the exit. He needed to see for himself what was going on outside.

Now he had a backup in the form of this cave, but he needed to assess the situation for a full plan.

“Cure I will make,” said Bhrigu. “Rest you must.”

The hermit went to the semblance of a rack near one of the walls and began to look there for something. He sang softly and seemed completely convinced that Debby had a cold rather than a closed leg fracture and painful shock. He pinched off parts of some dried plants and put them on the wooden plate. Occasionally he looked at Debby and nodded, continuing to purr something.

Jean-Pierre walked to the exit of the cave. The wind increased, and the snow flew parallel to the ground. Jean-Pierre felt how difficult it was for him to walk to the stairway. Fatigue and pain throughout his body made him stop. He walked to the top of the stairs and looked up at the sky. A blizzard was howling and beating desperately against the rocks. It seemed as if the weather was only getting worse. Jean-Pierre looked at his hands, which were shaking with exhaustion and exertion. The cold wind was blowing his breath away.

In his mind, options of what might happen swirled. He realized that with every hour of delay, Debby would lose her chances of survival. Jean-Pierre looked at his watch. The hands were not moving. He put it to his ear and didn’t hear the familiar ticking. The cold was creeping under his dirty and wet from sweat and snow shirt, pushing the Frenchman back into the cave.

“We won’t find the soldiers. The helicopter won’t take off, but maybe at least we can send a signal. We’ll have to put up some kind of sign here tomorrow. Debby. What if she doesn’t make it to morning? What if there’s internal bleeding or…” Images of what might happen to Debby began to flicker in his mind. He felt a burning sensation in his chest from the fact that there was nothing he could do.

Jean-Pierre picked up a stone the size of his fist and threw it as hard as he could into the fog.

“Don’t try to not calm down before morning!” he said angrily in French, and went back to the second cave.

“Do you have a radio?” Jean-Pierre asked Dr Capri. “Communication with the military?”

“No,” replied the doctor.

“What, you don’t have any…” Jean-Pierre started to speak loudly, but he was interrupted by Yulia.

“Radios and cell phones don’t work here,” she said calmly. “We’re scientists, and that’s why we are here.”

“Why don’t they work?” Jean-Pierre asked incomprehensibly. “I’m the assistant head of the General Directorate of Foreign Security of France, tell me everything, what’s the reason you’re here?”

“Listen,” Dr Capri stood up to defend Yulia, “your friend is in a very serious condition right now. I think we need to focus on how we can help her.”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about!” Jean-Pierre said even louder. “We can help her if we understand what’s going on.”

David opened his eyes from his slumber. The hermit took the second pot off the fire and poured the contents into a smaller steel cup, smelled the aroma, smiled, and walked over to Jean-Pierre.

“Help,” Bhrigu said, smiling, and handed the cup to Jean-Pierre, “drink.”

Jean-Pierre looked at Bhrigu and wanted to refuse, but almost without thinking, took the cup and automatically, quenching his thirst, took a few sips. Bhrigu took the cup and went to Yulia.

“Drink. It warms you.”

Yulia tried to smile and bow. She took a few sips, too, and felt the warmth and pleasant light taste spreading through her stomach. Her hands warmed and her face relaxed.

Bhrigu took the cup and returned to the fire. He poured more decoction and held it out to the doctor.