The Shelters of Stone (92 page)

She and Wolf walked along the left side of the large room with the white walls, then she went into the narrow gallery at the back with the walls that widened out as they rose and came together in the curved white ceiling. She stepped down into the widened area around the round column, which came down from the roof but didn’t reach the floor. She was beginning to feel cold and reached into her pack to take out the soft leather hide of a giant deer and put it around her shoulders. It was from the deer that she had brought down with her spear-thrower before the bison hunt that killed Shevonar. So much had happened since then, it felt as though it was long ago. But it wasn’t, she thought.

She walked to the end of the narrow corridor after it turned around the hanging pier, then came back and sat down. She liked the roominess of the space. Wolf came and rubbed his head against her free hand. “I think you want some attention,” she said, shifting her torch to her left hand and scratching behind his ears. When he left to explore again,
her mind wandered back to the meeting earlier with the other women who were going to be mated and the zelandonia, and the discussions after most of the other women left.

She thought about kinship signs and remembered that Marthona’s was the horse and wondered what hers was. She found it interesting that in the spirit world horses and aurochs and bison were power animals that were more important than wolves or cave lions, or probably cave bears. It was a place where things were reversed, backward, maybe inside out, or upside down. As she sat there a feeling started to come over her, a feeling that she’d had before. She didn’t like it and tried to fight it, but she had no control over it. She seemed to be remembering something, remembering her dreams, but it was more than memory and more than dreamlike, it was as though she were reliving her dreams and memories, with a vague sense of remembering things that hadn’t happened.

She felt an anxious worry, she had done something wrong, and drained the liquid left in the bowl. She followed flickering lights through a long endless cave, then bathed in firelight she saw the mog-urs. She felt sickened and petrified with fear, she was falling into a black abyss. Suddenly Creb was helping her, supporting her, easing her fears. Creb was wise and kind. He understood the spirit world.

The scene changed With a tawny flash, the feline sprang for the aurochs and wrestled the huge reddish-brown wild cow, bawling in terror, to the ground. Ayla gasped and tried to squeeze herself into the solid rock of the tiny cave. A cave lion roared, and a gigantic paw with claws outstretched reached in and raked her left thigh with four parallel gashes.

“Your totem is the Cave Lion,” the old Mog-ur said

It changed again. The line of fires showing the way down the corridor of a long, winding cave cast light upon beautiful draped and flowing formations. She saw one that resembled the long flowing tail of a horse. It turned into a dun-yellow mare who flowed into the herd She nickered and swished her dark tail, seeming to beckon. Ayla looked to see where she was going and was startled to see Creb stepping out of the shadows. He motioned her on, urging her to hurry. She heard a horse whinny The herd was galloping away toward the edge of the
cliff. She was in a panic, ran after them. Her stomach churned into a knot of fear. She heard the sound of a horse screaming as it was falling over the edge, tumbling end over end, upside down.

She had two sons, brothers whom no one would guess were brothers. One was tall and blond like Jondalar, the other, older one, she knew was Dure, though his face was in shadow. The two brothers approached each other from opposite directions in the middle of an empty, desolate, windblown prairie. She felt great anxiety; something terrible was about to happen, something she had to prevent. Then, with a shock of terror, she knew one of her sons would kill the other. As they drew closer, she tried to reach them, but a thick viscous wall held her trapped. They were almost upon each other, arms raised as though to strike. She screamed.

“Wake up, child!” Mamut said. “It is only a symbol, a message.”

“But one will die!” she cried.

“It is not what you think, Ayla, “Mamut said. “You must find the real meaning. You have the Talent. Remember, the spirit world is not the same, it is reversed, upside down.”

Ayla jerked when the torch dropped. She grabbed for it and picked it up before the fire died, then glanced up at the hanging pillar that looked as though it supported something, but didn’t even reach the ground. It was reversed, upside down. She shivered. Then, for an instant, the pillar turned into a transparent, viscous wall. On the other side a horse was tumbling end over end, upside down, falling off the edge of a cliff.

Wolf was back, nosing at her and whining, running out, then coming back and whining again. Ayla stood up and watched the wolf, still trying to clear her head. “What do you want, Wolf? What are you trying to tell me? Do you want me to follow you? Is that it?”

She started out of the back gallery, and when she reached the opening, she saw another torch coming down the slope into the cave. The person carrying the torch obviously saw her, too, though her torch was starting to sputter and die. She hurried, but took only a few more steps before her light went out. She stopped, then noticed that the light coming toward
her was moving faster. She felt relieved, but before the person reached her, her eyes began to adjust to the dark. She could see a little by the faint light that reached the back of the large chamber from outside, and thought she could probably find her way, if she had to, but she was glad someone was coming. She was surprised, however, when she saw who it was.

“It’s you!” they both said together.

“I didn’t know anyone was in here, I don’t want to disturb you.”

“I’m so glad to see you,” Ayla said at the same time, then smiled. “I really am glad to see you, Brukeval. My torch died.”

“I noticed,” he said. “Why don’t I walk you out? That is, if you are ready to go.”

“I’ve been in here too long,” she said. “I’m cold. I’ll be glad to feel the sun. I should have paid attention.”

“It’s easy to get distracted in this cave. It’s so beautiful, and feels so … I don’t know, special,” he said, holding the light high between them as they started out.

“It does, doesn’t it?”

“It must have been exciting for you to be the first one to see it. We’ve been on these slopes so many times, I couldn’t even say all the counting words, yet no one found it until you came,” Brukeval said.

“Just to see it is exciting, being the first one doesn’t matter. I think it must be just as exciting for anyone the first time they see it. Have you been here before?” Ayla asked.

“Yes. Everyone was talking about it, so before it got dark, I got a torch and came to see it. I didn’t have time to see much, the sun was going down. Just enough to make me decide to come back today,” Brukeval said.

“Well, I’m grateful you did,” Ayla said as they started up the slope of the entranceway. “I probably could have gotten out, a little light reaches back there, and Wolf would have helped me, but I can’t tell you how relieved I was to see your torch corning toward me.”

Brukeval looked down and noticed the wolf. “Yes, I’m
sure he would have. I didn’t see him before. He’s special, too, isn’t he?”

“He is to me. Have you met him yet? There’s a kind of formal introduction that I do with him. He understands then that you are a friend,” Ayla said.

“I’d like to be your friend,” Brukeval said.

The way he said it made Ayla look at him, quickly, in her unobtrusive Clan woman way. She felt a chill and a sense of foreboding. There seemed to be more in his statement than a wish for friendship. She sensed a yearning for her and then decided she didn’t want to believe it. Why should Brukeval yearn for her? They hardly knew each other. She smiled at him, partly to cover her disquiet, as they walked out of the cave.

“Then let’s introduce you to Wolf,” she said.

She took Brukeval’s hand and went through the process of giving Wolf his scent in the context of her approval.

“I don’t think I ever told you how much I admired you that day you faced Marona down,” he said when she was through. “She can be a cruel and vicious woman. I know, I lived with her when I was growing up. We’re considered cousins, far cousins, but her mother was the closest relation to my mother after she died, who could nurse a baby, so she was stuck with me. She accepted the responsibility, but she didn’t like it.”

“I admit, I don’t care much for Marona,” Ayla said, “but some people think she may not be able to have children. If that is true, I feel sorry for her.”

“I’m not sure if she can’t, or just doesn’t want to. Some think she just makes sure that she loses it whenever she’s Blessed. She wouldn’t make a decent mother anyway. She doesn’t know how to think of anyone but herself,” Brukeval said. “Not like Lanoga. She’ll be a wonderful mother.”

“She already is,” Ayla said.

“And thanks to you, there’s a good chance Lorala will live,” he said. The way he was looking at her made Ayla uncomfortable again. She looked down and petted Wolf as a distraction.

“It’s the mothers who are nursing her, not me,” she said.

“But no one else bothered to find out that the baby wasn’t getting any milk, or cared enough to get help for Lorala. I’ve seen how you are with Lanoga. You treat her like she’s worth something.”

“Of course she’s worth something,” Ayla said. “She’s an admirable girl, and she’s going to be a wonderful woman.”

“Yes, she is, but she’s still part of the lowest-ranked family in the Ninth Cave,” Brukeval said. “I’d mate her and share my status with her, it doesn’t do me any good, anyway, but I doubt if she’d want me. I’m too old for her, and too … well … no woman wants me. I do hope she finds someone worthy of her.”

“So do I, Brukeval. But why do you think no woman wants you?” Ayla protested. “I understand you have a ranking in the Ninth Cave that is near the first, and Jondalar says that you are an excellent hunter who contributes a lot to the Cave. Jondalar thinks a lot of you, Brukeval. If I were a Zelandonii woman looking for a likely mate, and if I weren’t going to mate Jondalar, I would consider you. You have so much to offer.”

He watched her carefully, trying to make sure that she wasn’t saying those things just so she could twist them around in her next breath into a condescending sarcasm the way Marona used to do. But Ayla seemed sincere and her feelings genuine.

“Well, you’re not looking, I’m sorry to say,” Brukeval said, “but if you ever decide to start, let me know.” Then he smiled, trying to make it seem like a joke.

From the first moment he saw her, Brukeval knew she was the woman he had always dreamed of. The trouble was, she was going to mate Jondalar. What a lucky man, he thought, but then, he always was lucky. I hope he appreciates what he has, but if he doesn’t, I would. I’d take her in a heartbeat, if she would have me.

They looked up when they heard the sound of voices and saw several people coming from the direction of the camp of the Ninth Cave. The two tall men who looked so much alike
were immediately identifiable. Ayla waved and smiled at Jondalar and Dalanar. They all recognized her and waved back. The two tall young women with them couldn’t have looked more different, and though they were considered cousins, it was far cousins, but they both had a close connection to Jondalar. The complex family ties of the Zelandonii had been explained to Ayla, and she thought about their relationships as she watched them approach.

Among the Zelandonii, only children of the same woman were called brothers and sisters; children of the same man’s hearth were considered cousins, not siblings. Folara and Jondalar were sister and brother because they shared the same mother, though the men of their hearths were different; Joplaya was his close cousin because although Dalanar was the man of the hearth to both of them, they had different mothers. But while a sibling relationship wasn’t acknowledged, it was understood. Close cousins, especially the ones also called hearth cousins, were too close to mate with each other.

The last person who was with them was Echozar, Joplaya’s Promised. He was as distinctive in his general shape and size as the tall men were, especially to Ayla. Joplaya and Echozar would be mated during the same Matrimonial as she and Jondalar, and couples who shared the same ceremony often developed strong friendships. She wished that could be true, but they lived far apart and it was not likely. As they got closer, Ayla noticed that Joplaya glanced at Jondalar now and then, and surprisingly, she didn’t mind. She felt an empathetic sorrow for her. She understood Joplaya’s melancholy. She, too, had once been Promised to the wrong man, but for Joplaya there would be no last-moment reprieve.

Close cousins were often raised together, or lived nearby and knew they were close kin and not available to be considered for mating. But when Jondalar went to live with the man of his hearth, after the fight in which he knocked out the two front teeth of the man now known as Madroman, he was already a teenager. The daughter of Dalanar’s hearth, Joplaya, was a little younger, but neither had known each other while they were growing up.

Dalanar was delighted to have both his hearth children together and wanted them to get to know each other. He decided that one way was to train them both in the art of flint-knapping, which would give them something in common to talk about. It was, in fact, a very good idea, but he didn’t know what effect the youngster who was so much like himself would have on Joplaya. She had always adored the man of her hearth, and when Jondalar came, it was all too easy to transfer that overpowering love to her close cousin. Jerika saw it, but both Dalanar and Jondalar were unaware of it. Joplaya always couched her feelings about him in terms of jokes, and they, knowing that close cousins couldn’t mate, took it at face value and assumed that she was only teasing.

There were relatively few people in Dalanar’s Cave of Lanzadonii, and none that offered much to a beautiful and intelligent young woman. After Jondalar left on his Journey, Jerika urged Dalanar to take the Lanzadonii Cave to Zelandonii Summer Meetings occasionally. They both hoped that Joplaya would find someone, and a great many young men were interested in her, but she felt different and self-conscious because people stared at her. And she could find no one with whom she was as comfortable as she had been with her cousin Jondalar.