There was a sharp clack! as the rock she stepped onto toppled and smacked the cave floor. The noise echoed down an opening that seemed to run directly ahead. She took another step, almost reeling in her disorientation from the silence and pitch blackness. She fought back the urge to panic and scream for help. Then she realized that something had changed, an undercurrent of sound was emerging. She held her breath- listening. It was a violin, coming from somewhere down the shaft. " I'm here!" she called. No one answered, but the soft melody continued.

The melody sounded familiar, but she could give it no name. She walked slowly toward the sound of it, her hand with the pennywhistle extended before her, her free hand tracing the rock wall on her left. She felt the corridor making a slow bend right, and she sensed the music growing stronger, the aroma of lilies all around her now. She felt herself raise the penny whistle to her lips, and the strange melody began to flow from her into the pitch black of the mine. As she played, she heard the fiddler cease, as if to better hear her.