Cave
Kamchatka Wilderness
Soviet Union
1960
Lizavet removed the flute from her mouth. They were suddenly surrounded by a strange pulsating silence where each and every moment sounded thunderously loud. The water glowed, and rippled, reflecting the stone star map above them. Somewhere the cave dripped water, the wind caressed a rock formation in a strange lonely melodic howl.
Lizavet watched the bridge. "Move across it carefully. Slide your feet as if skating. It has been flooded with ice. Travel one at a time. Emily, you must go first. Papa, next. Korotkiy... and then me."
"Why are you going last?" Shorty asked.
"I can bring the ice back if it breaks. It may look solid, but the water is slowly draining away from where I have called it. I do not have the authority to declare the borders of the seas." Lizavet answered matter of factly, as if there was no danger to any of them. "Emily must see the way. Papa must be present to receive the seventh sword. You do not have these skills, Korotkiy."
"Ok," Emily rose to her feet, her back brushing the ceiling.
"There is one more thing," Lizavet whispered. "You must trust the ice, and yourself. Nature senses fear. So do the apkallu. And we are in their domain. They would have heard my song."
"I haven't seen any gathering," Indy murmured.
"Sometimes peaceful music keeps them away. But there is a reason you mistook the spirals for eyes, Papa," Lizavet explained. "They are watching. They are always watching."
Emily crouched, "Drag my feet, push them forward, like skating on ice. Got it."
"And be without fear."
She grinned. "That's always something I aspire to."
Then she charged forward.