The Mammoth Hunters - Jean M. Auel [172]
“Is my amulet, Deegie. Holds Spirit of Cave Lion, of Clan, of me. Little pieces, like Ranec’s carving is little Whinney. Creb told me, if I lose amulet, totem cannot find me. I will die,” Ayla tried to explain.
Deegie thought for a moment, looking at Ayla. The whole effect was spoiled by the grubby little leather bag. Even the thong around her neck was frayed, but that gave her an idea.
“Ayla, what do you do when it wears out? That thong looks like it will break soon,” Deegie asked.
“I make new bag, new thong.”
“Then, it’s not the bag that is so important, but what’s inside it, right?”
“Yes …”
Deegie looked around and suddenly spotted the sewing sack Crozie had given Ayla. She picked it up, emptied the contents carefully onto a platform, and held it out to her. “Is there any reason you can’t use this? We can fasten it to a string of beads—one from your hair will be fine—and you can wear it around your neck.”
Ayla took the beautiful, decorated bag from Deegie, looked at it, then wrapped her hand around the familiar old leather pouch and felt the sense of comfort the Clan amulet gave her. But she wasn’t Clan any more. She hadn’t lost her totem. The Spirit of the Cave Lion still protected her, and the signs she had been given were still important, but she was Mamutoi now.
When Ayla went back to the Mammoth Hearth, she was every inch a Mamutoi woman, a beautiful, well-dressed Mamutoi woman of high status and obvious value, and every eye had approving looks for the newest member of the Lion Camp. But two sets of eyes showed more than approval. Love and longing gleamed from dark laughing eyes full of eager hope no less than from the miserably unhappy eyes of an impossibly vivid shade of blue.
Manuv, with Nuvie on his lap, smiled warmly at Ayla as she passed by on her way to put her other clothes away, and she beamed back, so full of joy and happiness she didn’t think she could contain it all. She was Ayla of the Mamutoi, and she was going to do everything she could to be completely one of them. Then she saw Jondalar talking to Danug, only from the back, but felt her elation collapse. Perhaps it was his stance, or the way he held his shoulders, but something at a subliminal level made her pause. Jondalar was not happy. But what could she do about it now?
She hurried to get the firestones. Mamut had told her to wait until later before giving them away. Appropriate ceremony would invest the stones with proper significance, and enhance their value. She picked up the small, yellow-gray metallic-colored nodules of iron pyrite and brought them with her to the hearth. On her way, she passed behind Tulie, who was talking to Nezzie and Wymez, and overheard her speaking.
“ … but I had no idea she had so much wealth. Just look at the furs alone. The bison hide, and the white fox pelts, and this snow leopard—you don’t see many of these around …”
Ayla smiled as her feeling of joy returned. Her gifts had been acceptable, and appreciated.
The old man of mystery had not been idle. While she was changing, Mamut was changing, too. His face was painted with zigzag lines that accented and enhanced his tattoo, and he wore as a cape the hide of a cave lion, the same cave lion whose tail Talut sported. Mamuts necklace was made of short hollowed-out sections of the tusk of a small mammoth interspersed with canine teeth of several different animals, including one of a cave lion that matched hers.
“Talut is planning a hunt, so I will Search,” the shaman told her. “Join me, if you can—and want to. In any case, be prepared.”
Ayla nodded, but her stomach churned.
Tulie came toward the hearth and smiled at her. “I didn’t know Deegie was going to give that to you,” she said. “I’m not sure if I would have approved earlier; she worked hard on it, but I must admit it becomes you, Ayla.”
Ayla just smiled, not sure how to respond.
“That’s why I gave it to her, Mother,” Deegie said, approaching with her skull instrument. “I was trying to work out the process of getting finished leather to come out so light.