The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [164]
“I am sorry, Janella. The Great Mother is calling Jonlotan back to Her. He was so full of life, such a joy, that Doni can’t bear to be without him. She loves him too much,” the man said.
“But I love him, too. Doni can’t love him more than I do. He’s so young. Why does She have to take him now?” Janella sobbed.
“You will see him again, when you return to the Mother’s breast, and walk the next world,” the Fifth said.
“But I don’t want to lose him now. I want to see him grow up. Isn’t there anything you can do? You are the most powerful Zelandoni there is,” the boy’s mother pleaded, looking at the First.
“You can be sure that if there were, I would be doing it. You don’t know how much it hurts me to say it, but there is nothing I can do for someone with such a severe injury,” the One Who Was First said.
“The Mother has so many, why does She want him, too?” Janella sobbed.
“That is one question to which we are not given to know the answer. I am sorry, Janella. You should go to him while he still breathes, and comfort him. His elan must find his way to the next world now and I’m sure he is frightened. Though he may not show it, he will be grateful for your presence,” the large, powerful woman said.
“Since he’s still breathing, do you think he might wake up?” Janella asked.
“It is possible,” the First said.
Several people helped the woman up and led her to her dying son. Ayla picked up her child, held her close for a moment, and thanked Hollida, then walked toward the shelter in which they were staying. The two Zelandonia joined her.
“I wish there were something I could do. I feel so helpless,” the Zelandoni of the Fifth Cave said.
“We all do at a time like this,” the First said.
“How long do you think he’ll live?” he asked.
“You never know. He could linger for days,” the Zelandoni of the Ninth Cave said. “If you want us to stay, we will, but I wonder how extensive this earthquake was, and if it was felt at the Ninth Cave. We have a few people who didn’t go to the Summer Meeting …”
“You should go and see how they are,” the Fifth said. “You are right. There’s no telling how long the boy will linger. You may be the First, but you are still responsible for the Ninth Cave, and seeing to their well-being. I can do whatever is necessary here. I have before. Sending someone’s elan to the next world is not my most favorite part of taking care of one’s Cave, but it needs to be done, and it is important that it be done right.”
Everyone slept outside of the stone shelters that night, mostly in tents. They were too apprehensive to go inside, where rocks might still fall, except to run in and retrieve something they needed. There were a few aftershocks, and a little more rock shook loose from the walls and ceilings of the shelters, but nothing as heavy as the piece that fell on the boy’s head. It would be a while before anyone would feel like being in a stone shelter, though when the cold and snow of the periglacial winter arrived, people would forget the peril of falling rocks and be glad for some protection from the weather.
The procession of people, horses, and a wolf started out in the morning. Ayla and the First stopped in to see the boy, but more to see how his mother was bearing up. They both had mixed feelings about leaving. They wanted to stay and help the mother of the injured boy cope with her loss, but they were both concerned about those who had stayed behind at the stone shelter of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandoni.
They traveled south, following The River as it wound along its sinuous course downstream. The distance was not too great, though they had to cross back over The River and climb up the highland and back down again because the curving stream forced the water against the rock walls in one section, but the horses made the trek both easier and faster. By late afternoon, they were in sight of the sheer limestone cliff with the column near the top that appeared to be falling, which housed the large abri