The shelters of stone - Jean M. Auel [194]
“O Doni, Great Mother, help us to find our way to the other side, to your world, to the place beyond and yet within the unseen spaces of this world. As the dying old moon holds the new within its slender arms, the world of the spirits, of the unknown, holds this world of the tangible, of flesh and bone, grass and stone, within its unseen grasp. But with your help it can be seen, it can be known.”
Ayla heard the plea, sung in a strange muted chant by the huge woman. She had noticed that she was getting dizzy, though that was not quite the word to describe her sensations. She closed her eyes and felt herself falling. When she opened them again, lights were flashing from within her eyes. Though she had not really paid attention to them when she was looking at the animals, she realized now that she had seen other things, signs and symbols marked on the walls of the cave, some of which matched the visions in her eyes. It didn’t seem to matter now whether her eyes were open or closed. She felt that she was falling into a deep hole, a long dark tunnel, and she resisted the sensation, tried to keep control.
“Don’t fight it, Ayla. Let go,” the great donier said. “We are all here with you. We will support you, Doni will protect you. Let Her take you where She will. Listen to the music, let it help you, tell us what you see.”
Ayla dove through the tunnel headfirst, as though she were swimming underwater. The walls of the tunnel, of the cave, began to shimmer, then seemed to dissolve. She was looking through them, seeing into them, beyond them to a grassland and, in the distance, many bison.
“I see bison, huge herds of bison on a large open plain,” Ayla said. For a moment the walls solidified again, but the bison stayed. They covered the walls where the mammoths had been. “They are on the walls, painted on the walls, painted in reds and black, and shaped to fit. They’re beautiful, perfect, so full of life, the way Jonokol makes them. Don’t you see them? Look, over there.”
The walls melted again. She could see into them, through them. “They’re in a field again, a herd of them. Heading toward the surround.” Suddenly Ayla screamed. “No, Shevonar! No! Don’t go there, it’s dangerous.” Then, with sorrow and resignation, “It’s too late. I’m sorry, I did everything I could, Shevonar.”
“She wanted a sacrifice, to show respect, so people know that sometimes they, too, must give of their own,” the First said. She was there with Ayla. “You cannot stay here anymore, Shevonar. You must return to Her now. I will help you. We will help you. We will show you the way. Come with us, Shevonar. Yes, it’s dark, but see the light ahead? The bright, glowing light? Go that way. She waits for you there.”
Ayla held Jondalar’s warm hand. She could feel that the strong presence of Zelandoni was with them, and a fourth companion, the young woman with the limp hand, Mejera, but she was ambiguous, inconsistent. Occasionally. she would manifest quite strongly, then would fade to uncertainty.
“Now is the time. Go to your brother, Jondalar,” the large woman said. “Ayla can help you. She knows the way.”
Ayla felt the stone they held between them and thought about the beautiful, blue-toned milky surface with fiery red highlights. It expanded, filling the space around her until she dove into it. She was swimming, not on top but through the water, underwater, so fast that it felt as if she were flying. She was flying, speeding over the landscape, seeing meadows and mountains, forests and rivers, great inland seas and vast grassy steppes, and the profusion of animals those habitats supported.
The others were with her, letting her lead. Jondalar was closest, and she felt him most strongly, but she sensed the proximity of the powerful donier as well. The other woman’s presence was so faint, it was hardly noticed. Ayla took them directly to the blind canyon on the rugged steppes far to the east. “This is the place I saw him. I don’t know where to go from here,” she said.
“Think