The doctor gently lifted Debby’s head and began to drink it slowly.

“Help. Help,” the hermit repeated in heavily accented French, smiling. “Help not easy if you don’t know how, but it harder if you don’t know whom.”

Jean-Pierre looked stunned at the hermit, who was already walking toward David.

“What did he say?” the doctor asked Jean-Pierre in surprise.

“That… That we still need to figure out who needs help,” Jean-Pierre answered, continuing to follow the hermit with his gaze. “Who is he?”

“How would I know?” Dr Capri shrugged his shoulders. “When you came up, I just met him. He said his name was Bhrigu, and he lived around here.”

“Is that all?” Jean-Pierre was surprised.

“Yes,” said the doctor, finishing the rest of his drink.

The hermit went to the pile of firewood and scones near the entrance, chose a smaller scone of dung and put it to David’s ear.

“This help. Keep it here,” said Bhrigu, “soon you will hear everything.”

“Thank you,” David said, smiling and embarrassed, with eyes half-closed from fatigue.

“Good,” laughed Bhrigu, “very good.”

Jean-Pierre caught the hermit’s gaze and asked in French:

“Who are you, tell me, where are we now?”

Bhrigu came almost right up to Jean-Pierre and looked at him very intently. For several seconds he looked up from below, studying and examining the Frenchman’s facial features, eyes and hair.

“I am Bhrigu. We are all here. Tomorrow will be better. Right now, you need to rest.”

Jean-Pierre was not satisfied with this answer, and he wanted to continue, but the hermit took a step back and looked at the Frenchman’s mud-gray boots in surprise. Jean-Pierre involuntarily lowered his gaze and became embarrassed, and then moved his eyes to the old man’s feet. The bare tips of his toes were sticking out from under the recluse of the hermit. Bhrigu tweaked and straightened his toes. There were no shoes on his feet. Jean-Pierre looked up and met the elder’s good-natured glance. He smiled, nodded, and walked toward the stalactites. Jean-Pierre noticed that the doctor, Debby, and Yulia were asleep, lying down by the fire. He turned around, David was also asleep, sitting against the wall near the entrance.

Jean-Pierre turned toward the stalactites, but the hermit was not there. The Frenchman took a few steps and saw that behind the stalactites there was a low passage into another hall of the cave. He went inside and began to peer into the darkness. A few torches were burning, mounted on the walls, but they did not illuminate the cave completely. He saw the light reflect off something on the floor. After a few seconds, when his eyes became accustomed, the outline of the hermit, who was sitting with his back to the shore of the underground lake, became visible. The distant sound of water reached Jean-Pierre. He looked more closely and wanted to call out to Bhrigu, but he felt the fatigue building up again. He could no longer resist: he sat down on the ground, put his back against the wall and switched off.

Bernard Bajolet tapped his phone once more, wondering how to start the conversation. The number was already typed on the screen, but he hesitated to start the call. He pressed the button, and the call went through.

“Mademoiselle, good afternoon, my name is Bernard Bajolet, we work together with your husband,” he began.

“Yes, yes, monsieur Bonjour,” came Audrey’s voice.

“I don’t want to worry you, but I have information that the plane Jean-Pierre was on has disappeared from the radar.”

Audrey was silent. She stood at a loss in the middle of the kitchen, and her heart sank with fright and bitterness. Monsieur Bajolet was also silent for a while.

“I understand,” he began. “Please, Audrey, keep my number, I will let you know all the news. They haven’t found the plane, which means,” he hesitated, “that there is hope.”

The last words sounded unnatural and rude. He tried to correct himself, but stopped and decided not to continue to make her feel better, but to tell her the facts.

“The plane disappeared about two hours ago over the mountains in Nepal. The weather there is very bad right now, but a hiking rescue team has been sent there. They need time to get there.”

Bernard Bajolet was walking in a small circle the whole time he was talking, but suddenly he froze and, nodding, said:

“As soon as there is news, I will call you.”

“Okay,” the young woman said in a suppressed voice.

Audrey put the phone away and looked at the screen. It was counting down the time of the call. The seconds kept running: 43, 44. Suddenly, the numbers froze – Bernard Bajolet hung up.

Audrey looked around the kitchen. She looked at the refrigerator, at the table. There was no way her thoughts could break the dam of shock. “I have to call Madame Julie.” She picked up the phone and began searching for the number of Jean-Pierre’s mother, but there was no way she could do it. The letters began to blur, and her breathing became labored. She felt herself being pinned to the floor. She closed her eyes and held her breath, shaking her head from side to side. Then she gathered her strength and went to the room, opened her computer, and went to a news site. “Flight 274 Paris-Tokyo has gone off the radar. Circumstances are being clarified,” read Audrey.

Her instinct and habit triggered from the awareness of the threat, the fear, and the pain. She grabbed her phone and dialed Jean-Pierre’s number – ‘out of range’.

Audrey put the phone away. Picked it up again, put it away again. She got up and sat down several times. Tried to say something, to think about what to do. She walked a few laps around the room, closed the curtains, and lay down on the couch. Tears came to her eyes, but she held them back, trying to cope. Her breathing became short and her chin shook.

“No!” she burst out.

Jean-Pierre’s consciousness returned to his body. He felt light and refreshed when he heard familiar voices nearby. He opened his eyes and saw Debby floating in the water. The torches on the walls dimly illuminated a huge hall, most of which occupied the visible part of the underground lake. The water seemed a rich blue, and Jean-Pierre didn’t immediately realize he was awake. He got up and sat back, trying to see what was going on.

The huge hall of the cave went into darkness, hiding the calm subterranean lake. Only at the entrance to the cave was a small patch of land that disappeared into the blue water at an incline. The walls of the cave were slightly moist, the air fresh and warm. The opposite end of the lake was not visible because of the darkness and the huge stalactites and stalagmites that hung from the high vault of the cave and stuck out of the water like islands.

Debby and Yulia were swimming in the water. Debby was laughing, and Yulia was swimming beside her, holding her hands. On the shore stood Dr Capri and David. They were talking to Debby:

“Try to bend your leg at the knee,” Dr Capri said loudly.

Jean-Pierre perked up, the drowsiness abruptly gone, and he rose to his feet.

“What’s going on?” he shouted.

The doctor threw a disgruntled look at him, and David came closer and with a smile spread his hands to the sides as a sign of surprise:

“We have no idea ourselves,” he laughed. “Debby had a fever this morning. She moaned and Bhrigu suggested that we should put her in the water. After a few minutes, she came to. And look. It’s been half an hour, and she’s already swimming. I woke you up, but you slept tight.”

David led Jean-Pierre to the water’s edge. They looked in disbelief at the cheerful girls who were swimming in the water a few feet away. Debby waved to Jean-Pierre.

“Hello!” she shouted cheerfully. “Hello, my hero!”