The Shelters of Stone (57 page)

They arrived at the blind canyon strewn with huge, sharp-angled boulders and started in, drawn to the slope of loose gravel at the far end.
Time had passed again. They were living with the Mamutoi now, and the Lion Camp was going to adopt her. They had gone back to her valley, so Ayla could get some of the things she had made to give as gifts for her new people, and were returning.
Jondalar stood at the foot of the slope, wishing there was something he could do to acknowledge this burial place of his brother. Perhaps Doni had already found him, since She called him back to Her so young. But he knew Zelandoni would try to find this resting place of Thonolan’s spirit and help guide him to the spirit world, if she could. But how could he tell her where this place was? He couldn’t even have found it without Ayla.

He noticed Ayla had a small leather pouch in her hand, one similar to the kind she wore around her neck. “You have told me his spirit should return to Doni,” she said. “I don’t know the ways of the Great Earth Mother, I only know of the Spirit World of the Clan totems. I asked my Cave Lion to guide him there. Maybe it is the same place, or
maybe your Great Mother knows of that place, but the Cave Lion is a powerful totem and your brother is not without protection.”

She held up the small pouch. “I made an amulet for you. You, too, were chosen by the Cave Lion. You don’t have to wear it, but you should keep it with you. I put a piece of red ochre in it, so it can hold a piece of your spirit and a piece of your totem’s, but I think your amulet should hold one more thing.”

Jondalar was frowning. He didn’t want to offend her, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted this Clan totem amulet.

“I think you should take a piece of stone from your brother’s grave. A piece of his spirit may stay with it, and you can carry it back in your amulet to your people.”

The knots of consternation on his forehead deepened, then suddenly cleared. Of course! That might help Zelandoni find this place in a spirit trance. Maybe there was more to Clan totems than he realized. After all, didn’t Doni create the spirits of all the animals? “Yes, I’ll keep this and put a stone from Thonolon’s grave into it,” he said.

He looked at the loose, sharp-edged gravel sloping against the wall in a tenuous equilibrium. Suddenly a stone, giving way to the cosmic force of gravity rolled down amid a spattering of other rocks and landed at Jondalar’s feet. He picked it up. At first glance, it appeared to be the same as all the other innocuous little pieces of broken granite and sedimentary rock. But when he turned it over, he was surprised to see a shining opalescence where the stone had broken. Fiery red lights gleamed from the heart of the milky white stone, and shimmering streaks of blues and greens danced and sparkled in the sun as he turned it this way and that.

“Ayla, look at this,” he said, showing her the opal facet of the small rock he had picked up. “You’d never guess it from the back. You’d think it was just an ordinary stone, but look here, where it broke off the colors seem to come from deep inside, and they’re so bright, it almost seems alive.”

“Maybe it is, or maybe it is a piece of the spirit of your brother,” she said.

Ayla became aware of Jondalar’s warm hand and the stone pressing against her palm. Its heat increased, not enough to cause discomfort, but enough to make her notice it.
Was it Thonolan’s spirit that was trying to be noticed? She wished she’d had a chance to get to know the man. The things she’d heard about him since she arrived indicated that he had been well liked. It was a shame that he’d died so young. Jondalar had often said that Thonolan was the one who had wanted to travel. He had gone on the Journey only because his brother was going, and because he didn’t really want to mate Marona.

“O Doni, Great Mother, help us to find our way to the other side, to your world, to the place beyond and yet within the unseen spaces of this world. As the dying old moon holds the new within its slender arms, the world of the spirits, of the unknown, holds this world of the tangible, of flesh and bone, grass and stone, within its unseen grasp. But with your help it can be seen, it can be known.”

Ayla heard the plea, sung in a strange muted chant by the huge woman. She had noticed that she was getting dizzy, though that was not quite the word to describe her sensations. She closed her eyes and felt herself falling. When she opened them again, lights were flashing from within her eyes. Though she had not really paid attention to them when she was looking at the animals, she realized now that she had seen other things, signs and symbols marked on the walls of the cave, some of which matched the visions in her eyes. It didn’t seem to matter now whether her eyes were open or closed. She felt that she was falling into a deep hole, a long dark tunnel, and she resisted the sensation, tried to keep control.

“Don’t fight it, Ayla. Let go,” the great donier said. “We are all here with you. We will support you, Doni will protect you. Let Her take you where She will. Listen to the music, let it help you, tell us what you see.”

Ayla dove through the tunnel headfirst, as though she were swimming underwater. The walls of the tunnel, of the cave, began to shimmer, then seemed to dissolve. She was looking through them, seeing into them, beyond them to a grassland and, in the distance, many bison.

“I see bison, huge herds of bison on a large open plain,” Ayla said. For a moment the walls solidified again, but the
bison stayed. They covered the walls where the mammoths had been. “They are on the walls, painted on the walls, painted in reds and black, and shaped to fit. They’re beautiful, perfect, so full of life, the way Jonokol makes them. Don’t you see them? Look, over there.”

The walls melted again. She could see into them, through them. “They’re in a field again, a herd of them. Heading toward the surround.” Suddenly Ayla screamed. “No, Shevonar! No! Don’t go there, it’s dangerous.” Then, with sorrow and resignation, “It’s too late. I’m sorry, I did everything I could, Shevonar.”

“She wanted a sacrifice, to show respect, so people know that sometimes they, too, must give of their own,” the First said. She was there with Ayla. “You cannot stay here anymore, Shevonar. You must return to Her now. I will help you. We will help you. We will show you the way. Come with us, Shevonar. Yes, it’s dark, but see the light ahead? The bright, glowing light? Go that way. She waits for you there.”

Ayla held Jondalar’s warm hand. She could feel that the strong presence of Zelandoni was with them, and a fourth companion, thé young woman with the limp hand, Mejera, but she was ambiguous, inconsistent. Occasionally. she would manifest quite strongly, then would fade to uncertainty.

“Now is the time. Go to your brother, Jondalar,” the large woman said. “Ayla can help you. She knows the way.”

Ayla felt the stone they held between them and thought about the beautiful, blue-toned milky surface with fiery red highlights. It expanded, filling the space around her until she dove into it. She was swimming, not on top but through the water, underwater, so fast that it felt as if she were flying. She was flying, speeding over the landscape, seeing meadows and mountains, forests and rivers, great inland seas and vast grassy steppes, and the profusion of animals those habitats supported.

The others were with her, letting her lead. Jondalar was closest, and she felt him most strongly, but she sensed the proximity of the powerful donier as well. The other woman’s presence was so faint, it was hardly noticed. Ayla took them
directly to the blind canyon on the rugged steppes far to the east. “This is the place I saw him. I don’t know where to go from here,” she said.

“Think of Thonolan, call to his spirit, Jondalar,” Zelandoni said. “Reach out to your brother’s elan.”

“Thonolan! Thonolan! I can feel him,” Jondalar said. “I don’t know where he is, but I can feel him.” Ayla had a perception of Jondalar with someone else, though she could not discern who. Then she sensed other presences, at first just a few, then many, calling out to them. Out of the throng, two stood out … no, three. One of them carried an infant.

“Are you still traveling, still exploring, Thonolan?” Jondalar asked.

Ayla heard no answer, but sensed laughter. Then, she had the feeling of an infinity of space to travel and places to go.

“Is Jetamio with you? And her child?” Jondalar queried.

Again, Ayla sensed no words, but felt a surge of love radiating from the amorphous form.

“Thonolan, I know your love of travel and adventure.” This time it was the First who spoke with her thoughts to the elan of the man. “But the woman with you wants to return to the Mother. She has followed you only out of love, but she is ready to go. If you love her, you should go and take her and her infant with you. It is time, Thonolan. The Great Earth Mother wants you.”

Ayla discerned confusion, a sense of being lost.

“I will show you the way,” the donier said. “Follow me.”

Ayla perceived herself being drawn along with the rest, speeding rapidly over a landscape that might have been familiar if the details were not so blurred, and if it were not getting so dark. She held tight to the warm hand on her right and felt her left hand being fervently clutched. A brightness appeared before them in the distance that was like a great bonfire, but different. It grew more intense as they approached.

They slowed. “You can find your way from here,” Zelandoni said.

Ayla sensed relief from the elans, and then separation. A somber darkness engulfed them, and with the absolute absence
of light, a silence, pervasive and complete, surrounded them. Then, faintly, in the unearthly quiet, she heard music: a fluctuating fugue of flutes, voices, and drums. She felt movement. They were accelerating at a tremendous rate, but this time it seemed to come from the hand on the left. Mejera was clutching hard, in fear, determined to return as fast as possible and dragging everyone else along in her wake.

When they stopped, Ayla felt both hands holding hers. They were in the immediate presence of the music, back in the cave. Ayla opened her eyes, saw Jondalar, Zelandoni, and Mejera. The lamp in their midst was sputtering, the oil almost gone and only one wick burning. In the darkness beyond, she saw the small fire of a lamp move, seemingly by itself, and shivered. Another lamp was brought forward and exchanged for the dying fight in the center. They were sitting on the leather pad, but now, even in her warm clothing, she felt chilled.

They let go of each other’s hands, though Ayla and Jondalar held on for a beat or two longer than the rest, and began to shift positions. The One Who Was First joined in with the singers and brought the musical fugue to a close. More lamps were lit and people started moving around. Some stood up and stamped their feet.

“I want to ask you something, Ayla,” the large woman said.

Ayla looked at her expectantly.

“Did you say you saw bison on the walls?”

“Yes, the mammoths had been covered over and made into bison, with the shape of the head and the hump on the back filled in and made to look like the large hump on a bison’s withers, and then the walls seemed to disappear and they became real bison. There were some other animals, the horses, and the reindeer facing each other, but I saw this place as a bison cave,” Ayla said.

“I think your vision is because of the recent bison hunt and the tragedy surrounding it. You were in the midst of it, and you treated Shevonar,” the First said. “But I think there is a meaning to your vision beyond that. They came to you
in great numbers in this place. Perhaps the Spirit of Bison is telling the Zelandonii that there has been too much hunting of bison and we need to suspend the hunting of them for the rest of the year to atone, to overcome the bad luck.”

There were murmurs of assent. It made the zelandonia feel better to think they could do something to placate the Bison Spirit and remove the ill fortune the unexpected death presaged. They would inform their Caves of the ban on bison hunting, almost grateful to have a message to bring them.

The acolytes gathered up the things that were brought into the cave, then the lamps were all relit and used to light their way out. The zelandonia left the chamber and retraced their steps. When they reached the ledge outside the cave, the sun was setting in a brilliant display of fiery reds, golds, and yellows in the west. On the way back from Fountain Rocks, no one seemed inclined to talk much about their experiences in the deep cave. As the various zelandonia left the group to return to their respective Caves, Ayla wondered what the others had felt and if it was the same thing that she had, but she was reluctant to bring it up. Though she had many questions, she wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to ask, or if she really wanted to know the answers.

Zelandoni asked Jondalar if he was satisfied that they had found his brother’s spirit and helped his elan to find his way. Jondalar said he thought Thonolan was content, and therefore he was, but Ayla thought it was more that he was relieved. He had done what he could, though it hadn’t been easy for him, now the burden of worrying about it was over. By the time Ayla, Jondalar, Zelandoni, and Jonokol reached the Ninth Cave, only the lonely flickering lights in the night sky and the small fires in their stone lamps and torches remained to light their way.

Ayla and Jondalar were both tired when they reached Marthona’s dwelling. Wolf was nervously excited and very happy to see Ayla. After comforting the animal and exchanging greetings, they had a light meal and not long after went to bed. It had been a difficult few days.

*   *   *

“Can I help you cook this morning, Marthona?” Ayla asked. They were the first two awake and were enjoying a quiet cup of tea together while everyone else still slept. “I’d like to learn how you like food prepared, and where you keep things.”

“I’d be happy to have your help, Ayla, but this morning we’ve all been invited to share a morning meal with Joharran and Proleva. Zelandoni has been invited, too. Proleva often cooks for her, and I think Joharran feels that he hasn’t had much time to talk with his brother since he returned. He seems particularly interested in learning more about that new spear-throwing weapon,” Marthona said.