The Shelters of Stone (Earth's Children 5)

“You can carry that a step further, Ayla. You know part of your purpose is to bring forth the next generation, but what is the purpose of having another generation? What is the purpose of life?”

“I don’t know. What is the purpose of life?” Ayla asked.

Zelandoni laughed. “If I could answer that, I’d be equal to the Great Mother Herself, Ayla. Only She can answer that question. There are many who claim our purpose is to honor Her. Perhaps our purpose is just to live, and to care for the next generation so that they may live. That may be the best way to honor Her. The Mother’s Song says She made us because She was lonely, that She wanted to be remembered, and acknowledged. But there are those who say there is no purpose. I doubt if that question can be answered in this world, Ayla. I’m not sure if it can be answered in the next.”

“But at least women know they are necessary for there to be a next generation. How must it feel not to have even that much purpose?” Ayla said. “How would it feel to think life would go on just the same whether you were here or not, whether your kind, your gender, was here or not?”

“Ayla, I have never had any children. Should I feel my life has no purpose?” Zelandoni asked.

“It’s not the same. Perhaps you could have had children, and if you could not, you are still a woman. You still belong to the gender that brings forth life,” Ayla said.

“But we are all human. Including men. We’re all just people. Both men and women continue on to the next generation. Women have boys as often as they have girls,” the donier said.

“That’s just it. Women have boys as often as girls. What do the men have to do with it? If you felt that you and all of your kind had no part in creating that next generation, would you feel as human? Or would you feel less important? Something added on at the last moment, something unnecessary?” Ayla was leaning forward, strongly making her point’s, passionate in her feelings about them.

Zelandoni pondered the question, then looked at the serious face of the young woman with the sleeping baby in her arms. “You belong to the zelandonia, Ayla. You argue as well as any of them,” she said.

Ayla pulled back. “I don’t want to be a Zelandoni,” she said.

The heavy woman eyed her with speculation. “Why not?”

“I just want to be a mother, and Jondalar’s mate,” Ayla said.

“Don’t you want to be a healer anymore? You are as skilled as anyone, including me,” the donier said.

Ayla frowned. “Well, yes, I want to keep on being a healer, too.”

“You said you assisted your Mamut a few times in some of his other duties, didn’t you find it interesting?” said the One Who Was First.

“It was interesting,” Ayla conceded, “especially learning things I didn’t know, but it was frightening, too.”

“How much more frightening would it have been if you had been alone and unprepared? Ayla, you are a daughter of the Mammoth Hearth. Mamut had a reason for adopting you. I can see it, I think you can, too. Look inside yourself. Have you ever been frightened by something strange and unfamiliar when you were alone?”

Ayla refused to look at Zelandoni, looking away, and then down, but she nodded just slightly.

“You know there is something different about you, something few people have, don’t you? You try to ignore it, put it out of your mind, but it’s difficult sometimes, isn’t it?”

Ayla glanced up. Zelandoni was staring at her, forcing her to look back, holding her eyes the way she had done the first time they met. Ayla struggled to look away, but couldn’t quite do it. “Yes,” she said softly. “It is difficult sometimes.” Zelandoni released her hold, and Ayla looked down again.

“No one becomes Zelandoni unless they feel the call, Ayla,” the woman said gently. “But what if you should feel the call and not be prepared? Don’t you think it would be better to have some training, just in case? The possibility is there, no matter how much you may want to deny it to yourself;’

“But doesn’t the preparation in itself make it more likely?” Ayla asked.

“Yes. It does. But it can be interesting. I’ll be honest with you. I want an acolyte. I don’t have too many years left. I want the one who follows me to be trained by me. This is my Cave. I want the best for it. I am First Among Those Who Serve The Great Earth Mother. I don’t say this often, but I am not First without reason. If a person is gifted, no one could train her better than I can. You are gifted, Ayla. You are, perhaps, more gifted than I am. You could be First,” Zelandoni said.

“What about Jonokol?” Ayla asked.

“You should know the answer to that. Jonokol is an excellent artist. He was happy to remain an acolyte. He never wanted to become a Zelandoni, until you showed him that cave. You know he’ll be gone by next summer. He will move to the Nineteenth Cave as soon as he can get the Zelandoni of the Nineteenth to accept him, and find an excuse to leave me. He wants that Cave, Ayla, and I think he should have it. He will not only make it beautiful, in that cave, he will bring to life the world of the spirits,” Zelandoni said.

“Look at this, Ayla!” Jondalar said, holding a flint point. He was full of excitement. “I heated the flint the way Wymez does, very hot. I knew I had it right when it cooled because it felt shiny and slick, almost as if it had been oiled. Then I retouched it bifacially, using the pressure techniques he developed. It still isn’t up to his quality, but I think with practice, I may get close. I can see all kinds of possibilities. I can remove those long thin flakes, now. That means I can make points almost as thin as I want, and get a long straight edge for a knife or a spear, without the curve that you always get when you start with a blade detached from a core. I can even straighten those blades more easily with careful retouching on

the inner side of both ends of a curved blade. I can make any kind of notch I want. I can make shouldered points with a tang for halting. You can’t believe the control it gives me. I can do anything I want. It’s almost like bending the stone to your will. That Wymez is a genius!”

Ayla smiled at him going on and on. “Wymez may be a genius, Jondalar, but you are just as good,” she said.

“I only wish I were. Remember, he developed the process. I’m only trying to copy it. It’s too bad he lives so far away. But I am grateful for the time I had with him. I wish Dalanar were here. He said he was going to experiment this winter, too, and I’d really like to discuss it with him.”

Jondalar examined the blade again, looking it over critically. Then he looked up and smiled at her. “I almost forgot to tell you. I am definitely going to be taking on Matagan as an apprentice for more than this winter. Since he came to visit, I’ve been able to judge, and I think he does have talent and ability with the stone. I had a long talk with his mother and her mate, and Joharran is agreeable.”