The people of the Cave of the Sacred Hot Springs were anticipating the Festival to Honor the Mother with great enthusiasm. In the deep of winter, when life was usually most dull and boring, Ayla and Jondalar had arrived and provoked enough excitement to keep the Cave stimulated for a long time, and with the inevitable storytelling that would result, the interest would last for years. From the moment they rode up, sitting on the backs of horses and followed by the Wolf Who Liked Children, everyone had been buzzing with speculation. They had enthralling stories to tell about their travels, arresting new ideas to share, and fascinating devices like spear-throwers and thread-pullers to demonstrate.
Now everyone was talking about something magical that the woman would show them during the ceremony, something having to do with fire, like their burning stones. Losaduna had mentioned it while they were eating their evening meal. The visitors had also promised to give a demonstration of the spear-thrower in the field outside the cave so everyone could see its possibilities, and Ayla was going to show what could be done with a sling. But even the promised demonstrations did not pique their curiosity as much as the mystery involving fire.
Ayla discovered that constantly being the center of attention could be as exhausting, in a different kind of way, as constantly traveling. All evening people had plied her with eager questions and sought her opinion and ideas on subjects about which she had no knowledge. By the time the sun was setting, she was tired and didn't feel like talking any more. Soon after dark she left the gathering around the fire in the central part of the cave to go to bed. Wolf went with her and Jondalar followed shortly afterward, leaving the Cave free to gossip and speculate in their absence.
In the sleeping area allocated to them within the ceremonial and dwelling space of Losaduna, they puttered around with preparations for the next day, then crawled into their furs. Jondalar held her and considered making the initial overtures that Ayla considered his "signal" to couple, but she seemed nervous and distracted, and he wanted to save himself. One never knew what to expect at a Mother Festival, and Losaduna had hinted that it might be a good idea to hold back and wait to honor the Mother until after the special ritual they had planned.
He had spoken with the One Who Served the Mother about his concerns regarding his ability to have children born to his hearth, whether the Great Mother would find his spirit acceptable for a new life. They had decided on a private ritual before the festival to appeal directly to the Mother for Her help.
Ayla lay awake long after she heard the heavier breathing of sleep from the man beside her, tired but unable to fall asleep herself. She shifted position frequently, trying not to disturb Jondalar with her restless turnings. Though she dozed off, sound sleep was slow in coming, and her thoughts drifted in strange patterns as she wavered between wakeful imaginings and fitful dreams…
The meadow was freshly green with the lush new growth of spring, brightened by the varied hues of colorful flowers. In the distance, the ivory-white scarp face of a rock wall, pocked with caves and textured with black streaks sweeping up and around into roomy cliff overhangs, almost gleamed in the light blazing down from high in the clear azure sky. Reflected sunlight glinted from the river that flowed along its base, hugging close one moment, then veering away, generally tracing the contours of the wall without following it exactly.
About halfway down the field that spread out across level ground away from the river, a man stood watching her, a man of the Clan. Then he turned and headed toward the cliff, leaning on a staff and dragging a foot, yet walking at a good pace. Though he didn't say or signal a word, she knew he wanted her to follow him. She hurried toward him, and when they came abreast, he glanced at her with his one good eye. It was a deep liquid brown, full of compassion and power. She knew his bearskin cloak covered the stump of an arm that had been amputated at the elbow when he was a boy. His grandmother, a medicine woman of renowned reputation, had cut off the useless, paralyzed limb when it became gangrenous after he was mangled by a cave bear. Creb had lost his eye during the same encounter.
As they neared the rock wall, she noticed a strange formation near the top of a overhanging cliff. A longish, somewhat flat, column-shaped boulder, darker than the creamy matrix of limestone that held it, leaned over the edge as if frozen in place just as it started to tumble down. The stone not only gave the feeling that it would fall any moment, making her uneasy, but she knew something about it was important; something she should remember, something she had done, or was supposed to do – or wasn't supposed to do.
She closed her eyes trying to recall. She saw darkness, thick, velvet, palpable darkness, as utterly lacking in light as only a cave deep in a mountain could be. A tiny flickering of light appeared in the distance and she groped her way along a narrow passage toward it. As she neared, she saw Creb with other mog-urs, and she suddenly felt great fear. She didn't want that memory and quickly opened her eyes.
And found herself on the bank of the small river that wound its way along the base of the wall. She looked across the water and saw Creb trudging up a path toward the falling stone formation. She had gotten behind him and now didn't know how to cross the river to catch up. She called after him, "Creb, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to follow you into the cave."
He turned around and beckoned to her again, signaling great urgency. "Hurry," he signed from across the river, which had become wider and deeper, and full of ice. "Don't wait any longer! Hurry!"
The ice was expanding, taking him farther away. "Wait for me! Creb, don't leave me here!" she cried.
"Ayla! Ayla, wake up! You're dreaming again," Jondalar said, shaking her gently.
She opened her eyes and felt a great sense of loss and a strangely intense fear. She noticed the hide-covered walls of the dwelling space and a reddish glow from the fireplace as she looked at the shadowed silhouette of the man beside her. She reached out and clung to him. "We have to hurry, Jondalar! We have to leave here right away," she said.
"We will," he said. "As soon as we can. But tomorrow is the Mother Festival, and then we have to decide what we need to take to cross the ice."
"Ice!" she said. "We have to cross a river of ice!"
"Yes, I know," he said, holding her and trying to calm her. "But we have to plan how we're going to do it with the horses and Wolf. We'll need food, and a way to get water for all of us. The ice is frozen solid up there."
"Creb said to hurry. We have to leave!"
"As soon as we can, Ayla. I promise, as soon as we can," Jondalar said, feeling a nagging edge of worry. They did need to leave and get across the glacier as soon as possible, but they couldn't go before the Mother Festival, could they?
Though it did little to warm the freezing air, the late afternoon sun streamed through the branches of trees, which broke up the coruscating rays but did not block the blinding western light. To the east, the glaciered mountain peaks, reflecting the brilliant orb that was descending into fiery clouds, were suffused with a soft rosy glow that seemed to emanate from within the ice. The light would soon be failing, but Jondalar and Ayla were still in the field outside the cave, although he was watching along with everyone else.
Ayla took a deep breath, then held it, not wanting to obstruct her view with the steamy fog of her breath while she took careful aim. She shifted the two stones in her hand, then placed one in the pocket of the sling, whirled it around and flung it, letting go of one end. Then, starting at the end she still held, she quickly ran it through her hand to retrieve the loose end, dropped the second stone in the cup, whirled and cast it. She could cast two stones faster than anyone had ever imagined.
"Oooh!" "Look at that!" People who had been standing at the large mouth of the cave during the demonstrations of spear-throwing and rock-slinging let out the breaths they, too, had been holding and made comments of surprise and appreciation. "She broke up both snowballs from all the way across the field." "I thought she was good with the spear-thrower, but she's even better with that sling."
"She said it would take practice to learn to throw spears with accuracy, but how much practice did it take to throw rocks like that?" Larogi said. "I think it would be easier to learn to use the spear-thrower."
The demonstration was over, and as night was closing in, Laduni stepped in front of the people and announced that the feast was almost ready. "It will be served at the central hearth, but first, Losaduna will dedicate the Festival to the Mother at the Ceremonial Hearth, and Ayla is going to give another demonstration. What she is going to show you is remarkable."
As the people excitedly began making their way back into the cave away from the large open mouth, Ayla noticed Madenia talking with some friends and was glad to see that she was smiling. Many had commented on how pleased they were to see her joining in the group's activities, though she was still shy and withdrawn. Ayla could not help thinking what a difference it made when people cared. Unlike her experience, where everyone felt Broud had the right to force her any time he wanted, and thought she was odd for resisting and hating him, Madenia had the support of her people. They took her side. They were angry at those who had forced her, understood what an ordeal it had been, and wanted to correct the wrong that had been done to her.
Once everyone was settled inside the enclosed space of the Ceremonial Hearth, the One Who Served the Mother came out of the shadows and stood behind a lighted fireplace surrounded by a circle of almost perfectly matched round stones. He picked up a small stick with a pitch-dipped end, held it to the fire until it caught, then turned around and walked to the stone wall of the cave.
With his body blocking the view, Ayla could not see what he was doing, but when a glowing light spread out around him, she knew he had lit a fire of some kind, probably a lamp. He made some motions and began chanting a familiar litany, the same repetition of the various names of the Mother that he had chanted during Madenia's cleansing ritual. He was invoking the spirit of the Mother.
When he backed away and turned to face the gathering, Ayla saw that the glow came from a stone lamp he had lit in a niche in the cave wall. The fire cast dancing shadows, larger than life, of a small dunai and highlighted the exquisitely carved figure of a woman with substantial motherly attributes – large breasts and rounded stomach, not pregnant but well endowed with reserves of stored fat.
"Great Earth Mother, Original Ancestor and Creator of All Life, Your children have come to show appreciation, to thank You for all Your Gifts, great and small, to honor You," Losaduna intoned, and the people of the Cave joined in. "For the rocks and stones, the bones of the land that give of their spirit to nourish the soil, we have come to honor You. For the soil that gives of its spirit to nourish the plants that grow, we have come to honor You. For the plants that grow and give of their spirit to nourish the animals, we have come to honor You. For the animals that give of their spirit to nourish the meat-eaters, we have come to honor You. And for all of them that give of their spirit to feed and clothe and protect Your children, we have come to honor You."
Everyone knew all the words. Even Jondalar, Ayla noticed, had joined in, though he said the words in Zelandonii. She soon began repeating the "honor" part, and though she didn't know the rest, she knew they were important, and once she heard them, she knew she would never forget them.
"For Your great glowing son who lights the day, and Your fair shining mate who guards the night, we have come to honor You. For Your life-giving birth waters that fill the rivers and seas and rain down from the skies, we have come to honor You. For Your Gift of Life and Your blessing of women to bring forth life as You do, we have come to honor You. For the men, who were made to help women to provide for the new life, and whose spirit You take to help women create it, we come to honor You. And for Your Gift of Pleasures that both men and women take in each other, and that opens a woman so she can give birth, we have come to honor You. Great Earth Mother, Your children come together on this night to honor You."
The silence that filled the cave after the communal invocation ended was profound. Then a baby cried, and it seemed entirely appropriate.
Losaduna stepped back and seemed to fade into the shadows. Then Solandia got up, picked up a basket that was near the Ceremonial Hearth, and poured ashes and dirt on the flames in the round fireplace, killing the ceremonial fire and plunging them into near darkness. There were a few surprised oohhs and aahhs from the crowd, as people sat forward expectantly. The only light came from the small oil lamp that was burning in the niche, which made the dancing shadows of the Mother figure seem to grow, until they seemed to fill the entire space. Though the fire had never been put out like that before, the effect was not lost on Losaduna.
The two visitors and the people who lived at the Ceremonial Hearth had practiced earlier, and each knew what to do. When everyone had quieted down, Ayla walked into the darkened area toward a different fireplace. It had been decided that the capabilities of the firestone would be shown to the best advantage, and with the most dramatic effect, if Ayla started a new fire at a cold hearth as quickly as possible after the Ceremonial fire was out. A quick-starting tinder of dried moss had been placed in the second fireplace, kindling beside it, and some larger sticks of wood for burning. Brown coal would then be added to keep the fire going.
When they were practicing, it had been discovered that wind helped to blow up the spark, particularly the draft that whipped in when the hide door of the Ceremonial space was opened, and Jondalar was standing beside it. Ayla knelt down and, holding the iron pyrite in one hand and a piece of flint in the other, struck them together, creating a spark that could be clearly seen in the darkened area. She struck the two together again, holding them at a slightly different angle, which caused the spark she drew off to fall on the tinder.
That was the signal to Jondalar, who opened the entry door. As the cold draft blew in, Ayla, bending close to the bare spark smoldering in the dried moss, blew gently. Suddenly the moss flared up and enveloped the tinder, bringing on a chorus of surprised and excited remarks. Kindling was then added. In the darkened shelter, the flame cast a reddish glow illuminating everyone's face and seemed larger than it actually was.
The people began talking, rapidly and excitedly, full of wonder, and it relieved the tension Ayla had built with the suspense. Within moments – to the Cave it seemed almost instantaneous – a fire had been kindled. Ayla heard a few of the comments. "How did she do it?" "How could anyone start a fire so fast?" A second fire was kindled from the first in the Ceremonial Hearth; then the One Who Served the Mother stood between the two areas of glowing flames and spoke.
"Most people who have not seen it do not believe that stones will burn, unless we have one to show, but burning stones are the Great Earth Mother's gift to the Losadunai. Our visitors have also been given a gift, a firestone; a stone that will make a fire-starting spark when it is struck with a piece of flint. Ayla and Jondalar are willing to give us a piece of firestone, not only to use, but also so that we will recognize it if we find any. In return, they want enough food and other supplies to get them over the glacier," Losaduna said.
"I've already promised that," Laduni said. "Jondalar has a Future Claim on me, and that's what he asked for – not that it's much of a claim. We'd give them food and supplies anyway." There was a refrain of agreement from the gathering.
Jondalar knew that the Losadunai would have given them food, just as Ayla and he would have given the Cave a firestone, but he didn't want them to feel sorry later about giving up food supplies that could leave them stretched thin if spring and the new growing season came late. He wanted them to feel they were getting the best of a good bargain, and he wanted something else. He stood up then.
"We have given Losaduna a firestone for everyone's use," he said, "but there is more to my claim than it seems. We need more than food and supplies for ourselves. We don't travel alone. Our companions are two horses and a wolf, and we need help to get them across the ice. We will need food for ourselves, and for them, but even more important, we will need water. If it were just Ayla and me, we could wear a waterbag full of snow or ice under our tunics next to our skin to melt enough water for us, and maybe for Wolf, but horses drink a lot of water. We can't melt enough for them that way. I will tell you the truth; we need to find a way to carry or melt enough water to get us all across the glacier."
There was a chorus of voices full of suggestions and ideas, but Laduni quieted them. "Let's think about it and meet tomorrow with suggestions. Tonight is Festival."
Jondalar and Ayla had already brought delicious excitement and mystery to enliven the usually quiet winter months of the Cave, and to give them stories to tell at Summer Meetings. Now there was the gift of the firestone and, as a bonus, the challenge of solving a unique problem, a fascinating practical and intellectual puzzle that would give them all a chance to stretch their mental muscles. The travelers would have willing and eager assistance.
Madenia had come to the Ceremonial Hearth to see the firestone demonstration, and Jondalar could hardly help noticing that she had been watching him closely. He had smiled at her several times, to which she had responded by blushing and looking away. He walked over to her as the gathering was breaking up and leaving the Ceremonial Hearth.
"Hello, Madenia," he said. "What did you think of the firestone?"
He felt the attraction he often had for shy young women before their First Rites, who didn't know what to expect and were a little afraid, especially those he had been called upon to introduce to the Mother's Gift of Pleasures. He had always enjoyed showing them Her Gift during their First Rites, and he had a special feeling for it, which was why he was called upon so often. Madenia's fear was well grounded, not the amorphous worries of most young women, and he would have considered it an even greater challenge to bring her around to knowing the joy rather than the pain.
Jondalar looked at her with his amazingly vivid blue eyes, and he wished they were staying long enough to participate in the Losadunai summer rituals. He genuinely wanted to help her to overcome her fears, and was truly attracted to her, which brought out the full power of his charm, his sheer male magnetism. The handsome and sensitive man smiled at her then and left her nearly breathless.
Madenia had never experienced a feeling like it before. Her whole being felt warm, almost on fire, and she had an overwhelming urge to touch him, and to have him touch her, but the young woman had no idea what to do with such feelings. She tried to smile; then, embarrassed, she opened her eyes wide and gasped at her audacity. She backed away and almost ran to her dwelling space. Her mother saw her leaving and followed after her. Jondalar had seen Madenia's reaction before. It was not unusual for shy young women to respond to him that way, and it only made her more endearing.
"What did you do to that poor child, Jondalar?"
He looked at the woman who had spoken, and turned his smile on her.
"Or need I ask? I remember a time when that look very nearly overpowered me. But your brother had his charm, too."
"And left you blessed," Jondalar said. "You are looking well, Filonia. Happy."
"Yes, Thonolan did leave a piece of his spirit with me, and I am happy. You seem happy, too. Where did you meet this Ayla?"
"It's a long story, but she saved my life. It was too late for Thonolan."
"I heard a cave lion got him. I'm sorry."
Jondalar nodded, and closed his eyes with the inevitable frown of pain.
"Mother?" a girl said. It was Thonolia, holding hands with Solandia's eldest daughter. "Can I eat at 'Salia's hearth and play with the wolf? He likes children, you know."
Filonia looked at Jondalar with an apprehensive frown.
"Wolf won't hurt her. He does like children. Ask Solandia. She uses him to entertain her baby," Jondalar said. "Wolf was raised with children and Ayla has trained him, and you're right. She is a remarkable woman, particularly with animals."
"I guess it's all right, Thonolia. I don't think this man would let you do anything that might harm you. He is the brother of the man you're named after."
There was a loud commotion. They looked to see what the trouble was, as the girls ran off together.
"When is someone going to do something about that… that Charoli? How long does a mother have to wait?" Verdegia complained to Laduni. "Maybe we need to call a Council of Mothers, if the men can't handle it. I'm sure they would understand the feelings in a mother's heart, and pass judgment fast enough."
Losaduna had joined Laduni, to lend him support. Calling a Council of Mothers was usually a last resort. It could have serious repercussions and was used only when no other way could be found to solve a problem. "Let's not be hasty, Verdegia. The messenger we sent to talk to Tomasi should be back any time. Certainly you can wait a little longer. And Madenia is much better. Don't you think so?"
"I'm not so sure. She ran away to our hearth and won't tell me what's wrong. She says it's nothing, and tells me not to worry about it, but how can I help it?" Verdegia said.
"I could tell her what's wrong," Filonia said under her breath, "but I'm not sure Verdegia would understand. She's right, though. Something does have to be done about Charoli. All the Caves are talking about him."
"What can be done?" Ayla asked, joining the two.
"I don't know," Filonia said, smiling at the woman. Ayla had come to see her baby and had obviously enjoyed holding him. "But I think Laduni's plan is a good one. He thinks all the Caves should work together to find and bring the young men back. He would like to see the members of that band separated from each other, and away from Charoli's influence."
"It does seem like a good idea," Jondalar said.
"The problem is Charoli's Cave, and whether Tomasi, who is related to Charoli's mother, would be willing to go along with it," Filonia said. "We'll know better when the messenger gets back, but I can understand how Verdegia feels. If anything like that ever happened to Thonolia…" She shook her head, unable to go on.
"I think most people understand how Madenia and her mother feel," Jondalar said. "People are mostly decent, but a bad one can make a lot of trouble for everyone else."
Ayla was remembering Attaroa and thinking the same thing.
"Someone's coming! Someone's coming!" Larogi and several of his friends came running into the cave shouting the news, making Ayla wonder what they had been doing outside in the cold and dark. A few moments later they were followed in by a middle-aged man.
"Rendoli! You couldn't have come at a better time," Laduni said, his relief obvious. "Here, let me take your pack and get you something hot to drink. You made it back in time for a Mother Festival."
"That's the messenger Laduni sent to Tomasi," Filonia said, surprised to see him.
"Well, what did he say?" Verdegia demanded.
"Verdegia," Losaduna said. "Let the man rest and catch his breath. He just got here!"
"It's all right," Rendoli said, shrugging off his pack and accepting a cup of hot tea from Solandia. "Charoli's band raided the Cave that lives near the barrens where they've been hiding. They stole food and weapons and almost killed someone who tried to stop them. The woman is still badly hurt, and she may not recover. All the Caves are angry. When they heard about Madenia, it was the final blow. In spite of his kinship with Charoli's mother, Tomasi is ready to join with the other Caves to go after them and put a stop to them. Tomasi called for a meeting with as many Caves as possible – that's what took me so long getting back. I waited for the meeting. Most of the nearby Caves sent several people. I had to make some decisions for us."
"I'm sure they were good ones," Laduni said. "I'm glad you were there. What did they think of my suggestion?"
"They have already taken it, Laduni. Each Cave is going to send out scouts to track them – some have already left. Once Charoli's band is found, most of the hunters of each Cave will go after them and bring them back. No one wants to put up with them any more. Tomasi wants to have them before the Summer Meeting." The man turned to look at Verdegia. "And they would like you to be there to make a charge and a claim," he said.
Verdegia was almost appeased, but still not happy about Madenia's reluctance to participate in the ceremony that would officially make her a woman, and, with luck, able to bear children – her potential grandchildren.
"I'll be glad to charge and claim," Verdegia said, "and if she won't agree to First Rites, you can be certain I won't forget it."
"I am hopeful that by next summer, she will change her mind. I do see progress since the cleansing ritual. She is out mingling with people more. I think Ayla helped," Losaduna said.
After Rendoli went to his dwelling space, Losaduna caught Jondalar's eye and nodded to him. The tall man excused himself and followed Losaduna into the Ceremonial Hearth. Ayla would have liked to follow them, but she sensed from their manner that they wanted to be alone.
"I wonder what they are going to do," Ayla said.
"I would guess it's some kind of personal ritual," Filonia said, which made Ayla even more curious.
"Have you brought something you made?" Losaduna asked.
"I made a blade. I didn't have time to haft it, but it is as perfect as I could make it," Jondalar said, taking a small leather-wrapped package from inside his tunic. He opened it to reveal a small stone point with an unretouched edge that was sharp enough to shave with. One end was worked to a point. The other end had a tang that could be fitted into a knife handle.
Losaduna looked it over carefully. "This is excellent workmanship," he commented. "I feel certain it will be acceptable."
Jondalar breathed a sigh of relief, though he hadn't realized he was so concerned.
"And something of hers?"
"That was harder. We have been traveling with only the bare essentials, for the most part, and she knows where she puts everything she has. She has a few things packed away, gifts from people, mostly, and I didn't want to disturb them. Then I remembered that you said it didn't matter how small it was, so long as it was very personal," Jondalar said, picking up a tiny object that was also in the leather package, then went on to explain. "She wears an amulet, a small decorated pouch with objects from her childhood inside. It's very important to her, and the only time she takes it off is when she's swimming or bathing, and not always then. She left it behind when she went to the sacred hot springs, and I cut away one of the beads that decorate it."
Losaduna smiled. "Good! That's perfect! And very clever. I've seen that amulet, and it is very personal to her. Wrap them back up together and give me the package."
Jondalar did as he was told, but Losaduna noticed a questioning look when he handed it to him.
"I cannot tell you where I will put it, but She will know. Now, there are some things I must explain to you, and some questions I must ask," Losaduna said.
Jondalar nodded. "I will try to answer."
"You want a child to be born to your hearth, to the woman, Ayla, is that right?"
"Yes."
"You do understand that a child born to your hearth may not be of your spirit?"
"Yes."
"How do you feel about that? Does it matter to you whose spirit is used?"
"I would like it to be of my spirit, but… my spirit may not be right. Maybe it isn't strong enough or the Mother can't use it, or maybe She doesn't want to. No one is ever sure whose spirit it is, anyway, but if a child was born to Ayla, and born to my hearth, that would be enough. I think I would almost feel like a mother myself," Jondalar said, and his conviction was obvious.
Losaduna nodded. "Good. Tonight we honor the Mother, so this is a very propitious time. You know that those women who honor Her most are the ones who are most often blessed. Ayla is a beautiful woman, and she will have no trouble finding a man or men to share Pleasures with."
When the One Who Served the Mother saw the tall man's frown, he realized that Jondalar was one of those who found it difficult to see the woman he chose choose someone else, even though it was only for ceremony. "You must encourage her, Jondalar. It honors the Mother and is most important if you are sincere in wanting Ayla to have a child born to your hearth. I have seen it work before. Many women become pregnant almost immediately. The Mother may be so pleased with you, She might even use your spirit, especially if you also honor Her well."
Jondalar closed his eyes and nodded, but Losaduna saw his jaw clench and grind. It was not going to be easy for the man.
"She has never taken part in a Festival to Honor the Mother. What if she… doesn't want anyone else?" Jondalar asked. "Should I refuse her?"
"You must encourage her to share with others, but the choice is, of course, hers. You must never refuse any woman, if you can help it, at Her Festival, but especially not the one you have chosen to be your mate. I wouldn't worry about it, Jondalar. Most women get into the spirit of it and have no trouble enjoying the Mother Festival," Losaduna said. "But it is strange that Ayla wasn't raised to know the Mother. I didn't know there were any people who don't acknowledge Her."
"The people who raised her were… unusual in many ways," Jondalar said.
"I'm sure that's true," Losaduna said. "Now, let's go ask the Mother."
Ask the Mother. Ask the Mother. The phrase went through Jondalar's thoughts as they walked toward the back of the ceremonial space. He suddenly remembered being told that he was favored by the Mother, so favored that no woman could refuse him, not even Doni Herself; so favored that if he ever asked the Mother for anything, She would grant his request. He had also been warned to be wary of such favor; he might get what he asked for. At that moment, he fervently hoped it was true.
They stopped at the niche where the lamp still burned. "Pick the dunai up and hold her in your hands," the One Who Served the Mother instructed.
Jondalar reached into the niche and gently picked up the Mother figure. It was one of the most beautifully made carvings he had ever seen. Her body was perfectly shaped. The figure in his hand looked as if the sculptor had carved it from a living model of a well-proportioned woman who was quite substantial in size. He had seen naked women often enough, in the normal course of living in close quarters, to know how one looked. The arms, resting on top of the ample breasts of the figure, were only suggested, but even so, fingers were defined, as well as the bracelets on her forearms. Her two legs came together into a kind of peg that went into the ground.
The head was most surprising. Most of the donii he had seen had hardly more than a knob for the head, sometimes with a face defined by the hairline but no features. This one had an elaborate hairstyle of rows of tight knobby curls that went all the way around the head and face. Except for the difference in shape, there was no difference between the back and the front of the head.
When he looked closely, he was surprised to see that it had been carved out of limestone. Ivory or bone or wood were much easier to work, and the figure was so perfectly detailed and beautifully made that it was hard to believe someone had made her out of stone. Many flint tools must have been dulled to make this, he thought.
The One Who Served the Mother had been chanting, Jondalar realized. He had been so involved in studying the donii that he hadn't noticed it at first, but he had learned enough Losadunai that when he listened carefully, he understood some of the names of the Mother, and he knew that Losaduna had started the ritual. He waited, hoping his appreciation of the material aesthetic qualities of the carving would not distract from the greater spiritual essence of the ceremony. Although the donii was a symbol for the Mother and, it was thought, offered a resting place for one of Her many spirit forms, he knew the carved figure was not the Great Earth Mother.
"Now, think about it clearly, and in your own words, from your heart, ask the Mother for what you want," Losaduna said. "Holding the dunai will help you to concentrate all your thoughts and feelings into your request. Don't hesitate to say anything that comes to you. Remember, what you are asking for is pleasing to the Mother of All."
Jondalar closed his eyes to think about it, to help himself concentrate. "O Doni, Great Earth Mother," he began. "There have been times in my life when I thought… some things I did may have displeased You. I did not mean to displease You, but… things happened. There was a time when I thought I would never find a woman I could really love, and I wondered if it was because You were angry about… those things."
Something very bad must have happened in this man's life. He is such a good man, and he seems so confident; it is hard to believe that he could suffer from so much shame and worry, Losaduna thought.
"Then, after traveling beyond the end of Your river, and losing… my brother, whom I loved more than anyone, You brought Ayla into my life, and finally I knew what it meant to fall in love. I am grateful for Ayla. If there was no one else in my life, no family, no friends, I would be content as long as Ayla was there. But, if it would please You, Great Mother, I would like… I would wish for… one thing more. I would ask for… a child. A child, born to Ayla, born to my hearth, and, if it is possible, born of my spirit, or born of my own essence as Ayla believes. If it is not possible, if my spirit is not… enough, then let Ayla have the baby she wants, and let it be born to my hearth, so it can be mine in my heart."
Jondalar started to put the donii back, but he wasn't quite through. He stopped and held the figure in both hands. "One more thing. If Ayla should ever become pregnant with a child of my spirit, I would like to know that it is the child of my spirit."
Interesting request, Losaduna thought. Most men might like to know, but it doesn't really matter that much. I wonder why it's so important to him? And what did he mean by a child of his essence… as Ayla believes? I'd like to ask her, but this is a private ritual. I can't tell her what he has said here. Maybe we can discuss it from a philosophical point of view sometime.
Ayla watched the two men leave the Ceremonial Hearth. She felt sure they both had accomplished what they meant to do, but the shorter man had a questioning expression and an unsatisfied set to his shoulders, and the tall one had stiffened and looked rather unhappy, but determined. The strange undercurrent made her even more curious about what went on inside.
"I hope she will change her mind," Losaduna was saying as they drew near. "I think the best way for her to overcome her terrible experience is to go ahead with her First Rites. We will have to be very careful who we choose for her, though. I wish you were staying, Jondalar. She seems to have developed an interest in you. I think it's good to see her warming toward a man."
"I would like to help, but we just can't stay. We have to leave as soon as we can, tomorrow or the next day, if possible."
"You're right, of course. The season could turn any time. Be wary if you notice either one of you getting irritable," Losaduna said.
"The Malaise," Jondalar said.
"What is Malaise?" Ayla asked.
"It comes with the foehn, the snow-melter, the spring wind," Losaduna said. "The wind comes out of the southwest, warm and dry, and hard enough to uproot trees. It melts snow so fast that high drifts can be gone in a day, and if it hits when you are on the glacier, you may not make it across. The ice could melt beneath your feet and drop you into a crevasse, or it could send a river across your path, or open a crack in front of you. It comes so fast that the evil spirits that like the cold can't get out of its way. It cleans them out, sweeps them out of hidden places, pushes them on ahead. That's why the evil spirits ride the headwinds of the snow-melter and usually arrive just before it. They bring the Malaise. If you know what to expect and can control them, they can be a warning, but they're subtle, and it's not easy to turn the evil spirits to your advantage."
"How do you know when the evil spirits have come?" Ayla asked.
"As I mentioned, watch out if you start feeling irritable. They can make you sick, and if you are already sick, they can make it worse, but more often they just make you want to argue or fight. Some people go into a rage, but everyone knows that it's caused by the Malaise, and people are not held to blame – unless they do serious damage or injury, and even then much is excused. Afterward, people are glad for the snow-melter because it brings new growth, new life, but no one looks forward to the Malaise."
"Come and eat!" It was Solandia who spoke; they hadn't seen her coming. "People are already going back for second portions. If you don't hurry, there won't be any left."
They walked toward the central hearth where a large fire was burning, whipped up by drafts coming in the mouth of the cave. Though not fully dressed for the intense cold outside, most people wore warm clothes in the unscreened areas of the cave that were open to the cold and winds. The roast haunch of ibex was rare in the middle, though keeping it hot was cooking it a bit more; fresh meat was welcome. There was also a rich meaty soup, made with dried meat, mammoth fat, a few bits of dried roots, and mountain bilberries; nearly the last of their stored vegetables and fruits. Everyone could hardly wait for the fresh greens of spring.
But the hard cold winter was still upon them, and as much as he wished for spring, Jondalar wished even more for the winter to last a little longer, just until they got across the glacier that still lay beyond them.