The shelters of stone - Jean M. Auel [33]
“It seems I have you to thank for the return of at least one of my sons, Ayla,” Marthona said. “I am happy to have him and grateful to you.”
“If only Thonolan could have returned, it would indeed be a joyful occasion. But Marthona knew when he left that he would not return,” Willamar said, then, looking at his hearth mate, “I didn’t want to believe you, but I should have known. He wanted to see everything, and go everyplace. That alone would have kept him traveling. Even as a small child his curiosity was too great.”
The comment reminded Jondalar of a deep concern he had long felt. Perhaps now was the appropriate time.
“Zelandoni, I need to ask you, is it possible for his spirit to find his own way to the spirit world?” Jondalar’s habitual worried frown matched Joharran’s. “After the woman he mated died, Thonolan wasn’t himself, and he did not go to the next world with the proper assistance. His bones are still under that pile of gravel on the eastern steppes, he had no proper burial. What if his spirit is lost, wandering in the next world with no one to show him the way?”
The large woman frowned. It was a serious question, and one that had to be handled with delicacy, especially for the sake of Thonolan’s grieving family. “Didn’t you say something about some hurried ritual you performed, Ayla? Tell me about it.”
“There’s not much to tell,” she said. “It was the ritual Creb always used when a person died and their spirit left this world. I was more concerned about the man who was living, but I wanted to do something to help the other one to find his way.”
“She took me to the place later,” Jondalar added, “and gave me some powdered red ochre to sprinkle over the rocks of his grave. When we left the valley for the last time, we went back to the canyon where Thonolan and I were attacked. I found a very special stone that came from the pile that buried him. I brought it with me. I hoped it might help you to find his spirit if it still wanders, so you could help him find his way. It’s in my pack, I’ll get it.”
Jondalar got up, went to his pack, and quickly returned with a simple leather pouch attached to a length of thong so that it could be worn around the neck, although it showed little sign of such usage. He opened it and shook two objects out of it into his palm. One was a small chunk of red ochre. The other appeared to be a small, sharp-edged piece of ordinary gray rock shaped somewhat like a flattened pyramid. But when he picked it up and showed the bottom unseen surface, there were gasps and looks of surprise. That facet was lined with a thin layer of milky blue opal, shimmering with fiery red highlights.
“I was standing there, thinking of Thonolan, and this rolled down the gravel slope and landed at my feet,” Jondalar explained. “Ayla said that I should put it in my amulet—this pouch—and take it home with me. I don’t know what it means, but it felt—it feels—as if Thonolan’s spirit is somehow connected with it.”
He handed the stone to Zelandoni. No one else felt inclined to touch it, and Joharran actually shuddered, Ayla noticed. The woman studied it carefully, giving herself time to think and consider what to say.
“I think you are right, Jondalar,” she said. “This is connected with Thonolan’s spirit. I am not sure what it means, I need to study it more, and ask the Mother for guidance, but you were wise to bring it to me.” She was silent for a while, then added, “Thonolan’s spirit was adventuresome. Perhaps this world was too small for him. He may still be traveling in the next world, not because he’s lost, but because he may not be ready to find his place there, yet. How far east were you when his life on this world ended?”
“Beyond the inland sea at the end of the great river, the one that begins on the other side of the highland glacier.”
“The one they call the Great Mother River?”
“Yes.”
Zelandoni was silent again. Finally she spoke. “It may be, Jondalar, that Thonolan’s quest could only be satisfied in the next world, in the land