The Shelters of Stone

by Jean M. Auel

“Don’t worry about it, Ayla. We were going to dig one anyway,” Proleva said. “And a lot of people were still here. Most of them have gone to the main camp now, but it’s always easier when everybody does it together. This just gave us a reason.”

  “Let’s go see your cave,” Jondalar said.

  “You know, if we all go there together, the whole camp will follow us,” Willamar said.

  “We could all go up separately, and meet at the spring,” Rushemar said. He was one who had helped dig the roasting pit and was waiting for Salova to finish feeding Marsola before going to the main camp. Salova, who was nearby, smiled at him. Her mate was not one to say much, but when he did, it usually showed his intelligence, she thought. She looked around for Marsola, who was sitting on the ground nearby. She’d have to get the baby’s carrying cloak if they were going to go hiking around, but it did sound exciting.

  “That’s a good idea, Rushemar, but I think I have a better one,” Jondalar said. “We can get to the back of that slope by going up our little creek and around the back. That scree slope behind the pond is not very far from there. I climbed to the top of it, looking to see if there was any flint in that pile of rocks, and got a good look at the lay of the land.”

  “That’s perfect! Let’s go,” Folara said.

  “I would like to show it to Zelandoni and Jonokol, too,” Ayla said.

  “And since this is their territory, I think it would be appropriate to ask Tormaden, the leader of the Nineteenth Cave, to join us,” Marthona added.

  “You’re right, of course, mother. By all rights, they should explore it first,” Joharran said. “But since they never found it in all the time they’ve lived here, I think we can make it a joint adventure. I’ll go ask Tormaden to come with us.” The leader smiled. “But I won’t tell him why. FU just tell him Ayla found something and wants to show it to us.”

  “Why don’t I come with you, Joharran, and stop by the zelandonia lodge and ask Zelandoni and Jonokol to join us,” Ayla said.

  “How many want to go?” Joharran asked. Everyone who was there indicated their interest, but since most of the two hundred or so people who belonged to the Ninth Cave were in the main camp area, it wasn’t as huge a crowd as it might have been. Using the counting words, he estimated about twenty-five people and thought a group that size ought to be manageable, especially since they would be going another way “All right, I’ll go with Ayla to the main camp. Jondalar, you take everyone else the back way, and we will meet you on the down slope behind the spring.”

  “And take something to cut through those thorny stems, Jondalar, and some torches and your fire kit,” Ayla said. “I only went into the first big room, but I noticed a couple of passageways leading off from it.”

  Zelandoni and several of the zelandonia, including some new acolytes, were in the middle of preparing for the meeting with the women who were about to be mated; The One Who Was First was always busy at Summer Meetings. But when Ayla asked to speak to her privately, she sensed from the young woman’s demeanor that it could be important. Ayla told her about the cave and mentioned that several people from the Ninth Cave were going to be meeting behind the spring as soon as they could get there to go to see it. When the woman hesitated, Ayla insisted that Jonokol had to come, if no one else. That piqued the curiosity of the First, and she decided that perhaps she should go after all.

  “Zelandoni of the Fourteenth, will you take charge of this gathering?” the First Donier said to the one who had always wanted to be First. “I have to attend to a Ninth Cave matter.”

  “Of course,” the older woman said. She was curious—they all were—about what could be so important that the First would leave in the middle of a significant meeting, but she was also pleased that she had been called upon to fill in for her. Perhaps the First was beginning to appreciate her.

  “Jonokol, come with me,” Zelandoni of the Ninth said to her First Acolyte. That created even more curiosity, but no one would dream of asking, not even Jonokol, though he was glad that he might find out.

  Joharran had a little trouble finding Tormaden, and then convincing him to drop everything and come, especially since the leader of the Ninth wouldn’t tell him what it was about.

  “Ayla found something that we think you should know about, since it’s your territory,” Joharran told him. “Several people from the Ninth Cave are already aware of it—they were there when she told me about it—but I think you should know before the whole Summer Meeting does. You know how fast word can get out.”

  “You really think it’s that important?” Tormaden said.

  “I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t,” Joharran said.

  Going to see the cave Ayla found had become a Ninth Cave adventure, and some people wanted to bring food or gathering baskets as well as torches and make an outing of it. Most of them felt lucky that they had still been at their camp when Ayla came and told them about it, and were therefore able to get a first look at a new cave, one that the interesting woman that Jondalar had brought home with him claimed was so beautiful. They assumed the beauty would be in the stalactitic formations, that it would be another cave like the one named Pretty Hollow that was near the Ninth Cave.

  It was some time later when they all finally met. Joharran and Tormaden were the last to arrive, but the ones who came first, the group from the Ninth Cave, waited behind the crest down the slope a ways. A crowd of people standing at the top of the ridge would have been noticed from the main camp, and they didn’t want to be conspicuous. A little secrecy added to the excitement, but every so often someone would go up to the spring and, staying behind trees, check to see if Ayla and the two zelandonia were coming, or Joharran and the Nineteenth Cave’s leader.

  After short courtesy greetings were exchanged—Ayla had formally met Tormaden and the Nineteenth Cave soon after they arrived—she and Wolf started traversing down the trail through the hillside of blackberry vines full of ripening berries, leading the rest, with the wolf at her heel. She had signaled the animal to stay close, and he seemed to prefer it. With so many people, Wolf was feeling protective of her, and she didn’t want the large carnivore to alarm anyone, although most of the Ninth Cave were getting quite used to him. They loved the reaction he caused in the rest of the people at the Meeting, and the inevitable attention they received because of him.

  At the bottom, she turned toward the dry streambed. When they arrived, they first saw the remains of her fire, but soon noticed the hole cut through the thick, woody, running vines. Rushemar, Solaban, and Tormaden immediately set to work enlarging the hole, while Jondalar quickly started a fire. They were all getting more curious about the cave, Jondalar in particular. Once they got a few torches lit, they all tromped toward the dark hole that had been cut through the greenery.

  Tormaden was very surprised. He could see it was a cave, but he’d had no idea it was there. They only used the back hillside when the berries were ripe. It was a huge wild berry patch that covered the entire hill and had been there as long as anyone knew. Just picking from the path, which was renewed every year, and from around the edges provided more fruit than all of them could pick, even during a Summer Meeting. No one had bothered to hack their way in very far, or to cut through and find a cave.

  “What made you decide to cut through the brambles here, Ayla?” Tormaden asked as they started into the dark hole.

  “Wolf did,” she said, looking down at him. “He is the one who found it. I was out looking for something for a morning meal tomorrow, perhaps a hare or a grouse. Wolf often helps me hunt, he has a good nose. He disappeared behind this pile of rubble and under the vines and was a long time coming out. I wondered what was there. I cut through and discovered it was a cave, then came out and Ut a torch and went back in.”

  “I thought there had to be a reason,” he said, aware of both her unusual way of speaking and her. She was a beautiful woman, especially when she smiled.

  With Ayla and the wolf in the lead, and Tormaden behind her, e
ach holding a torch, they started into the opening one at a time. Zelandoni and Jonokol were behind him, followed by Joharran, Marthona, and Jondalar. Ayla realized that the people had intuitively ranked themselves in the order that they used for very special or formal occasions, like a funeral, except that she had ended up in front, which made her a bit uneasy. She didn’t think she deserved to be first in such a line.

  She waited until everyone was in the cave. The last one in was Lanoga carrying Lorala, daughters of Laramar’s mate, Tremeda, the family that was always last. She smiled at them and received a shy smile in return from Lanoga. Ayla was glad she had decided to come. Lorala was getting the rounded look that a baby her age should have, and becoming more of a handful for her surrogate mother, but Lanoga seemed very pleased about it. She had taken to sitting with the young mothers of the Cave and, hearing them brag about their babies, had begun to talk a little about Lorala’s accomplishments.

  “The floor is slippery, so be careful,” Ayla said as she started out, leading the group underground. With several torches, it was easier to see that the entrance gallery widened as the floor sloped down. She became aware of the cool dampness of the cave, the earthy smell of wet clay, a muffled sound of dripping water, and the breathing of the people behind her, but no one really spoke. The cave seemed to inspire silence, an expectant hush even from the babies.

  When she felt the floor level out, she slowed and lowered her torch. The others did the same, watching their feet and where they were going. When all of them had reached the level area, Ayla lifted her torch and held it high. As the rest of them did the same, first there were involuntary sounds of surprise, ooohs and aaahs, and then stunned silence as the people were truly overcome by the glorious white walls of crystallized calcite molded to the shape of the rock, shimmeringly alive in the torchlight. The beauty of the cave had nothing to do with stalactites, the cave had almost none, but the cave was beautiful, and more, it was filled with a powerful aura that was magical, supernatural, and spiritual.

  “O Great Earth Mother!” said the Zelandoni Who Was First. “This is Her sanctuary. This is Her womb.” Then she began to sing, in her own gloriously rich and vibrant voice:

  “Out of the darkness, the chaos of time.

  The whirlwind gave birth to the Mother sublime.

  She woke to Herself knowing life had great worth,

  The dark empty void grieved the Great Mother Earth.”

  “The Mother was lonely. She was the only.”

  The walls resonated with her voice, creating a feeling of accompaniment. Then someone started playing a flute and actually did accompany her. Ayla looked to see who it was. A young man who was a stranger was making the music. Though he looked vaguely familiar, she knew he was not from the Ninth Cave. From his clothing she recognized that he was Third Cave, and then she knew why he seemed to be someone she knew. He resembled the leader of the Third Cave, Manvelar. She tried to recall if she had met him, and the name Morizan came to mind. He was standing beside Ramila, the plump, attractive, brown-haired young woman who was one of Folara’s friends. He must have been visiting their camp and came along with them.

  The people had joined in singing the Mother’s Song, and they had reached a part that seemed especially profound:

  “When She was ready, Her waters of birth,

  Brought back the green life to the cold barren Earth.

  And the tears of Her loss, abundantly spilled,

  Made dew drops that sparkled and rainbows that thrilled”

  “Birth waters brought green. But Her tears could be seen.”

  “With a thunderous roar Her stones split asunder,

  And from the great cave that opened deep under,

  She birthed once again from Her cavernous room.

  And brought forth the Children of Earth from Her womb.”

  “From the Mother forlorn, more children were born.”

  “Each child was different, some were large and some small,

  Some could walk and some fly some could swim and some crawl.

  But each form was perfect, each spirit complete,

  Each one was a model whose shape could repeat.”

  “The Mother was willing. The green earth was filling.”

  Suddenly Ayla perceived a feeling that she’d had before, but not for a long time: a sense of foreboding came over her. Ever since the Clan Gathering, where Creb had learned in some inexplicable way that she was different, she had sometimes felt this peculiar fear, this strange disorientation, as though he had changed her. She felt a tingling, a prickling, a goosebump-raising nausea and weakness, and she shivered as her memory of a darkness deeper than any cave became real. In the back of her throat she tasted the dark cool loam and growing fungus of ancient primeval forests.

  An angry roar shattered the silence, and the watching people jumped back with fear. the huge cave bear pushed at the gate to the cage and sent it crashing to the ground the maddened bear was loose! Broud was standing on his shoulders; two other men were clinging to his fur. Suddenly one was in the monstrous animal’s grip, but his agonized scream was cut short when a powerful bear hug snapped his spine. the mog-urs picked up the body and, with solemn dignity carried it into a cave. Creb, in his bearskin cloak, hobbled in the lead.

  Ayla stared at a white liquid sloshing in a cracked wooden bowl. She felt an anxious worry she had done something wrong. There wasn’t supposed to be any liquid left in the bowl. She held it to her lips and drained it. Her perspective changed, a white light was inside her, and she seemed to be growing larger and looking down from high above at stars blazing a path. the stars changed to small flickering lights leading through a long endless cave. Then a red light at the end grew large, filling her vision, and with a sinking, sickening feeling, she saw the mog-urs sitting in a circle, half-hidden by stalagmite pillars.

  She was sinking deeper into a black abyss, petrified with fear. Suddenly Creb was there with the flowing light inside her, helping her, supporting her, easing her fears. He guided her on a strange trip back to their mutual beginnings, through salt water and painful gulps of air, loamy earth, and high trees. Then they were on the ground, walking upright on two legs, walking a great distance, going west toward a great salty sea. They came to a steep wall that faced a river and a flat plain, with a deep recess under a large overhanging section; it was the cave of an ancient ancestor of his. But as they approached the cave, Creb began fading, leaving her.

  The scene grew hazy, Creb was fading faster, was nearly gone. She scanned the landscape, searching desperately for him. Then she saw him at the top of the cliff, above his ancestor’s cave, near a large boulder, a long, slightly flattened column of rock that tilted over the edge, as though frozen in place as it was about to fall. She called out, but he had faded into the rock. Ayla felt desolate; Creb was gone and she was alone. Then Jondalar appeared in his place.

  She sensed herself moving with great speed over strange worlds and felt the terror of the black void again, but it was different this time. She was sharing it with Mamut, and the terror overcame both of them. Then faintly, from far away, she heard Jondalar’s voice, full of agonized fear and love, calling to her, pulling ber back and Mamut as well, by the sheer strength of his love and his need. In an instant she was back, feeling chilled to the bone.

  “Ayla, are you all right?” Zelandoni said.“You’re shivering.”

  27

  I’m fine,” Ayla said. “It’s just cool in here. I should have brought something warmer.” Wolf, who had been exploring the new cave, had appeared at her side and was pushing against her leg. She reached down and felt his head, then kneeled down and hugged him.

  “It is cool, and you are pregnant. You feel things more,” Zelandoni said, but she knew there was more to it than Ayla was saying. “You know about the meeting tomorrow, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Marthona told me. She will be coming with me, since I have no mother of my own to come,” Ayla said.

  “Do you want her to come?
” Zelandoni asked.

  “Oh, yes. I was grateful that she offered. I didn’t want to be the only woman there without a mother, at least someone who is like a mother,” Ayla said.

  The First nodded. “Good.”

  People were getting over their first feelings of awe at the new cave and were beginning to move around in it. Ayla saw Jondalar walking the length of the large room with purposeful strides, and smiled. She knew that he used his body to measure, she had seen him do it before. The width of his clenched fist was one measurement, the length of his hand another. He used his open arms to gauge spaces, and he often paced off distances by naming his steps with the counting words. That was why she had started doing it. He looked into the gallery at the back, holding his torch high, but didn’t enter.

  A cluster of people were watching him. Tormaden, the leader of the Nineteenth Cave, was talking to Morizan, the young man from the Third Cave. They were the only two people who were not from the Ninth Cave. Willamar, Marthona, and Folara were standing next to Proleva and Joharran and his two closest advisers and their mates. Dark-haired Solaban and his pale blond mate, Ramara, were talking to Rushemar and Salova, who was holding little Marsola on her hip. Ayla noticed that neither Proleva’s son, Jaradal, nor Ramara’s son, Robenan, was with them and guessed that the two boys who played together had gone off to do something at the main camp. Jonokol was smiling at Ayla as she walked toward them with Zelandoni and the wolf. Jondalar came back and joined them.

  “I would guess this room is the height of three tall men to the ceiling,” he said, and about the same or a little more across, about six of my strides. Probably the length is something short of three times that much, around sixteen steps, but I have a long stride. The darker stone of the lower part of the walls comes to about here,” he held his hand about mid-chest height, “that’s about five of my feet, one after another.”

  Jondalar had judged the distances fairly well. He was six feet six inches tall, and the white walls, which began at the middle of his chest, were around five feet up and went all the way to the nineteen-foot ceiling. The room was about twenty-two feet across and fifty-five feet in length, with some water pooled in the middle. The space was not large enough to hold everyone at the Summer Meeting, but more than enough to hold an entire Cave, except perhaps the Ninth, and certainly big enough for the entire zelandonia.