The Plains of Passage (Earth's Children 4)
Page 159
When Ayla went out, she noticed Cavoa leaving the large earthlodge as she entered. She smiled at the young woman, who smiled nervously back, and when she went in, she thought S'Armuna looked at her strangely. Jondalar's carving had created some worry, it seemed. Ayla waited until another person had left the lodge, and S'Armuna was alone.
"I have something I want to give you before I leave. I discovered this when I was living alone in my valley," she said, opening her palm to show her the stone. "I thought you might be able to make use of it for your Fire Ceremony."
S'Armuna looked at it, then looked up at Ayla questioningly.
"I know it doesn't look like it, but there is fire inside this stone. Let me show you."
Ayla went to the fireplace, got out the tinder they used, and arranged small shavings of wood loosely around dried cattail fluff. She placed sticks of kindling nearby, then bent down low and struck the iron pyrite with flint. A large hot spark was drawn off and fell on the tinder, and when she blew on it, a small flame miraculously appeared. She added kindling to keep it going, and when she looked up she saw the stunned woman gaping at her incredulously.
"Cavoa told me she saw a munai with your face, and now you make fire appear. Are you ... who they say you are?"
Ayla smiled. "Jondalar made that carving, because he loved me. He said he wanted to capture my spirit, and then he gave it to me. It's not a donii, or a munai. It's just a token of his feeling, and I will be happy to show you how to make fire appear. It's not me, it's something in the firestone."
"Should I be here?" The voice came from the entrance, and both women turned to look at Cavoa. "I forgot my mitts and came back for them."
S'Armuna and Ayla looked at each other. "I don't see why not," Ayla said.
"Cavoa is my acolyte," S'Armuna remarked.
"Then I'll show both of you how the firestone works," Ayla said.
When she had gone through the process again and let them both try it, they were feeling more relaxed, though they were no less amazed at the properties of the strange stone. Cavoa even felt brave enough to ask Ayla about the munai.
"That figure I saw . . ."
"Jondalar made it for me, not long after we met. It was meant to show his feeling for me," Ayla explained.
"You mean, if I wanted to show a person how important I think that person is, I could make a carving of that person's face?" Cavoa said.
"I don't see why not," Ayla said. "When you make a munai, you know why you are making it. You have a special feeling inside you about it, don't you?"
"Yes, and certain rituals go along with it," the young woman said.
"I think it's the feeling you put into it that makes the difference."
"So I could carve someone's face, if the feeling I put into it was good."
"I don't think there would be anything wrong with that at all. You are a very fine artist, Cavoa."
"But, perhaps, it would be best," S'Armuna cautioned, "if you did not make the whole figure. If you just made the head, there would be no confusion."
Cavoa nodded in agreement; then both of them looked at Ayla, as though waiting for her approval. In the recesses of their private thoughts, both women still wondered who this visitor really was.
Ayla and Jondalar woke the next morning with every intention of leaving, but outside the lodge a dry snow was blowing so fiercely that it was hard even to see across the settlement.
"I don't think we'll be leaving today, not with a blizzard in the making," Jondalar said, though he hated the thought of the delay. "I hope it blows over soon."
Ayla went to the field and whistled for the horses, to make sure they were all right. She was relieved to see them appear out of the haze of wind-driven snow, and she led them to an area nearer the Camp that was protected from the wind. As she walked back, her mind was on their return trip to the Great Mother Ri
ver, since she was the one who knew the way. She didn't hear her name whispered at first.
"Ayla!" The whisper was louder. She looked around and saw Cavoa on the far side of the small lodge, staying out of view and beckoning to her.
"What is it, Cavoa?"
"I want to show you something, to see how you like it," the young woman said. When Ayla got close, Cavoa took off her mitt. In her hand was a small roundish object, the color of mammoth ivory. She placed it carefully in Ayla's palm. "I just finished it," she said.
Ayla held it up and smiled with a look of wonder. "Cavoa! I knew you were good. I didn't know you were this good," she said, carefully examining the small carving of S'Armuna.