CIRCLES OF STONE (THE MOTHER PEOPLE SERIES) (39 page)

She whirled at a
noise behind her.  Three-Legs had burst from the shelter and was galloping
headlong down the hill.  Clio sprang out after her, but Zena did not think
she had seen the gazelle, or saw anything else.  The wildness in the
child's eyes was stronger than Zena had ever seen it before. 

A prickle of
terror ran up her spine.  Something
was
wrong.  She was not
the only one who felt it.  Three-Legs felt it, and Clio... Clio, who was
so close to the earthforce.

Kropor appeared,
rubbing his eyes.  Behind him, an infant began to wail, and then another
started, and within moments, all of them were crying.  Kropor paid no
attention.  Grabbing Clio before she could run, he tied a stout rope
around her waist and followed as she began to dance and leap.  He always
did this now, when the moon attracted her, or when a storm came, so he could
keep her from hurting herself again.  But the moon was not full, and there
was no storm. 

A tremor shook the
earth under Zena's feet.  Another came, then another, and suddenly, she
knew.  This was the thing she had feared.

"Out!"
she screamed.  "Away from the rocks!"  She charged toward
the shelter.  Already, Bran and Lotan and the others were pulling the
children out. 

"Down,"
Bran yelled.  "Down to the fields below.  It is safest
there."

Within moments,
all of them but Clio and Kropor were huddled close together in a small hollow,
well below the cliffs.  They were just in time, for another, stronger
tremor shook the ground.  Rocks crashed above them, and dust and debris
rained down on their heads.  The earth seemed to swell and then suddenly
collapse, rolling them wildly in all directions.  Zena was jostled
forcefully against Toro, but when she reached for Sima, who had been nestled
against her, she was gone.  The heavy clouds had completely obscured the
moon now, and she could see nothing.

She jumped up to
look for Sima, but before she could take a step, still another tremor shook the
earth and knocked her down again.  Now she could not feel any of the
others around her, except for Toro.

She yelled Sima's
name and the names of each of the others.  Crashing rocks and ominous
rumblings drowned out her voice, but she kept calling anyway, hoping they would
finally hear and find their way to her.  Sima cried out from somewhere
below; then Zena heard Nyta's voice, and soon the others answered.  They
crawled toward her, unable to stand, as the earth continued to heave and
shake.  She counted them off as they appeared.  They were bruised and
frightened, but no one was badly hurt.

Only Lotan was
missing now.  No.  There was no sign of Metep either.  Bran and
Toro jumped up to look for them, while Zena stayed to guard the others. 
The tremors seemed to have stopped, but they could start again without warning.

The moon slid out
from behind the bulky clouds, and at just that moment, Bran's voice sounded
below her. 

"I have found
them.  Metep is not moving, but the infant is all right, and Lotan,
too." 

Bran and Toro appeared,
their figures ghostlike against the background of jumbled rock and thick dust
that still hung in the air.  They were carrying Metep, and Lotan limped
beside them.

Bran laid Metep
gently on the ground.  Her eyes opened briefly and she moaned.  Zena
passed her fingers over the young woman's skull, trying to feel what she could
not see.  There was blood, still sticky, and a cut.  Her shoulder was
cut, too.  Perhaps a rock had fallen on her?

"I cannot
tell until morning," she said, "unless we make a fire.  I think
the earthquake is finished."

The appearance of
Kropor carrying Clio, with Three-Legs trotting behind, seemed to confirm her
words.  If Clio had fallen asleep and Three-Legs had returned, the danger
was probably over. Clio especially would feel the earthquake's vibrations if
they still lingered beneath the ground.

Bran went to see
if there were any burning sticks left from their fire.  He returned
quickly, carrying only a basket.

"The
earthquake has swallowed our fire,"  he told them, his voice
tremulous with awe.  "It has swallowed the whole place, the fire, the
clearing, even the cliffs."

Zena closed her
eyes, tying to absorb the message.  The earth had opened up where they had
lain and swallowed everything.  It could have swallowed them as well.

"Great
Mother," she said simply,  "we thank You with all our hearts for
warning us." 

The others
murmured thanks, too, and all of them sat very still for a long moment,
thinking of this miracle.  Then they set about the practical task of
making another fire.  By its light, Zena could see that Metep's cuts were
not deep. 

"She will be
all right; I am almost certain of it," she told Toro, who was peering
anxiously over her shoulder.

They settled down
to try to sleep while they waited for the light to come again.  None but
the children succeeded very well, and Zena was glad when a faint glow from the
east told her the sun was almost up.  She rose slowly and went out to see
what had happened to the cliff.

No jagged peaks
showed against the pale sky; instead, there was nothing but rubble.  Zena
climbed up on the tumbled boulders and looked longingly to the north, where she
wanted so badly to go.  She stared, looked away, then stared again. 
Tears began to pour down her cheeks, and she gasped in wonderment. 

The route was
there.  The earthquake had carved it for her.  The cliff was gone,
and so was the chasm that had blocked their way.  Where they had been were
jumbled rocks, easy to cross, and then a long, gradual descent through rocky
hillsides into a valley, a valley so lustrous and beautiful her heart leaped
into her throat at the sight.  A river wound through it, sparkling in the
early morning sun;  there were trees and grasses, and animals of all
kinds.  Far beyond, so far she had to squint to see, stretched a great
body of water, so wide and vast it had no end.

Overcome with
emotion, Zena fell to her knees.  The cliffs had opened, so they could go
through. The Mother had given them a way.

For a long time,
she was too stunned to move or even speak. She looked up, as if seeking the
Mother somewhere in the vastness above.  The star was still there, faint
now against the pale sky.  She raised a hand to it in thanks, then she
rose slowly to her feet. 

Without volition,
her arms opened wide to embrace the scene below.  Her voice rang out,
strong and powerful, as she thanked the Mother.  The others heard, and
came running, and when they saw what Zena had seen, they, too, spread their
arms wide and chanted their thanks.  Stronger and stronger their voices
rose, until all the land reverberated with the sounds. 

Then, when they
were certain the Mother had heard them, and knew of the love and gratitude in
their hearts, their voices died away.  Gathering up the children, they
began the descent into the paradise that awaited them below.

CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN

Zena watched
flamingos drop from the sky and settle in a rosy cloud on the water. 
Thousands upon thousands of them came, so many that the lake turned deep pink
with their jostling bodies. Sweeping their heads from side to side in broad
swaths, they skimmed up the blue-green algae that grew thickly in the
salt-infested water.  Any other bird or animal that ventured into this lake
would die.  Only the flamingos could tolerate its salinity.  The
long-legged birds seemed to know they were safe.  They did not interrupt
their feeding to watch for predators, nor did they bother to hide the nests
they built on raised mounds above the shallow water.  There was no
need.  No other creature could reach them. 

At some unseen
signal, the flamingos rose again and flapped over Zena's head, their wings
flashing scarlet against the brilliant sky.  Shading her eyes with one
hand, she stared in wonderment.  She had seen the spectacle of their
flight many times before, but it still amazed her. Everything about the valley
they had found amazed her, and she thanked the Mother constantly for bringing
them to this wondrous place.  All they needed, and far more, was
here.  Another lake with fresh, clear water harbored an abundance of fish
and turtles and clams.  Just as bountiful was the wide river that wound
lazily through the center of the valley.  Along its banks grew
broad-leaved trees, their branches heavy with sumptuous fruit.  Smaller
trees nearby were laden with shiny black objects Zena had never seen
before.  Their taste was strange but delicious.  Streams bubbled down
from the hillsides, and clumps of bushes littered with berries decorated their
banks.  There were animals in abundance.  Like the fruit, they were
bigger and fatter than any Zena had ever seen.  Even the lions and tigers
they saw were larger than usual.  At first Zena and the others had been
alarmed, but the huge beasts paid no attention to them except to stare lazily
from time to time, for their stomachs were easily filled with larger and
tastier prey.

Beyond the valley
was the huge body of water Zena had seen in her vision.  A pale luminous
green near the shore, it deepened into turquoise, then shades of blue and slate
gray as it met the horizon.  There was no end to it, at least no end that
Zena could see.  It stretched away from the long, curving coastline at the
northern edge of the valley and disappeared into an unfathomable distance. 
Enormous fish leaped from its depths and twisted their sleek gray bodies in the
air, then tumbled back with a mighty splash.  The fine-grained earth was
here, too, sparkling white in the sun, just as she had seen it in the
vision.  The cool, moist granules crumbled beneath their feet, and rustled
softly as they slid back and forth with the surging water.  A multitude of
scurrying crabs and other tiny creatures hid beneath the porous surface. 
Bubbles twinkled above their fragile homes, making them easy to find.  The
children delighted in digging them out and watching them wave their miniature
claws in defiance or scramble frantically toward the safety of the water. 
Sometimes they brought the crabs back as food, but Zena cautioned them over and
over never to take more than they needed.  The Mother had brought them to
this paradise, and they must not abuse Her generosity. 

She rose, anxious
to resume her search.  She was looking for a place to build a new circle
of stones.  Deep in her heart, she had always known she must build one
when she arrived at her destination.  Like the circle of stones by the
river, it would be a place to give birth, but even more, this one would be a
place to honor the Mother.  Zena was determined to find exactly the right
location.  She wanted to create the feeling of peace and enclosure she
remembered so well, but she also wanted to be able to look out upon the valley
so that they would be constantly reminded of the abundance the Mother had
provided. 

For days, she had
been scouring the area near the clearing where they had constructed their
shelter, worried that her infant would be born before she had built the circle
of stones.  But so far, none of the places had felt right.  Her chest
tightened with anxiety lest she fail in her search and disappoint the
Mother.  Then she began to laugh at her stubbornness, at her slowness,
still, to understand the Mother's ways.  While she carried this burden of
anxiety in her heart, she would never find what she sought.  There was no
need to struggle; she needed only to let the Mother guide her. 

Zena relaxed and
began to wander peacefully through the quiet woods, the fragrant fields,
letting the Mother lead her as She would.  And just as the sun reached the
western horizon, she found it.  As soon as she came to the secluded glen,
she knew.  This was the place.  The Mother was here; Zena could feel Her
presence strongly, and she felt the same sense of peace she remembered from the
first circle of stones, where all her worries had seemed to melt away. 
She could see the valley, too, in all its splendor.  Tall trees enclosed
the little glen on three sides, but just as she had wanted, the fourth side was
open to a magnificent view of the valley and the great water to the east. 

She rested for a
moment, savoring her find.  Then she trudged off, heavy now with the
unborn child, to find the others, so they could begin work right away. 
Already, they had located suitable stones.  Together, they hauled them to
the glen. 

Zena picked up the
first stone and laid it carefully against the fragrant earth.  She bent to
pick up another, and a strange confusion overcame her.  She could not
think for a moment who she was, or why she was placing stones in this
way.  It was as if another person had entered her body, were picking up
one stone after another and arranging them carefully in a circle.  Too
absorbed in her movements to wonder at the strange feeling, she simply accepted
it and continued the task.  The others helped her, and soon the circle of
stones was complete. 

Zena shook her
head, to clear it.  Her confusion vanished, and she remembered what she
wanted to do next.

"Help me
bring this one now," she told Bran and Kropor, pointing to a flat slab of
rock she had found earlier. 

Together they
dragged it to a clear space near the open end of the glen.  The men helped
her to balance the slab on two upstanding rocks, so that it formed a
shelf.  There she placed the first statue Lett had made, where all could
see it when they came to speak to the Mother and listen for Her voice. 

A few days later,
the first contraction plunged through Zena's body.  She smiled.  This
was as it should be.  The circle of stones was ready, and the moon was
full, to help draw the infant forth.  Now her child could be born.

Another contraction
came, and then another.  Already, they were strong and close
together.  Zena sensed she would not have long to wait.  She called
to Nyta, to bring dry grasses and fresh water from the stream that bubbled
nearby.  Then she began to walk, around and around the circle, absorbing
the Mother's peace, savoring her joy at being in this glorious place. 
Each time she came to the open end of the glen, she paused to look out at the
valley, the glimmering water, and the beauty she saw there seemed to draw away
her pain, give her the strength to walk some more.