Joharran turned to face the hunters that were still standing around the wounded man, most of them from the Ninth Cave. "Rushemar, the sun is high and getting hotter. We have paid dearly for this day's kill, let's not waste it. The bison need to be gutted and skinned. Kareja and the Eleventh Cave have started, but I'm sure she could use some help. Solaban, maybe you could take a few people and help Brameval get wood and water, and whatever else Ayla needs, and when Kimeran and Thefona find a place, you can help move Shevonar."

"Someone should go to the other Caves and let them know we need help," Brameval said.

"Jondalar, can you stop on your way back and let them know what hap- pened?" Joharran asked.

"When you get to Two Rivers Rock, tell them to light the signal fire,"

Manvelar said."Thank you, Joharran," she said, then turned to Jondalar. "If you tell her what happened, I'm sure Zelandoni will know what to bring, but let me check my bag. There are a couple of herbs I'd like if she has them. And take Whinney with you. Then you can use the pole drag to bring things here, she's more used to it than Racer. Zelandoni could even ride here on it, and Shevonar's mate on Whinney's back, if they're willing."

"I don't know, Ayla. Zelandoni's pretty heavy," Jondalar said.

"I'm sure Whinney can handle it. You just have to come up with a com- fortable seat." Then she looked at Jondalar with a wry expression. "But you're right, most people aren't used to using horses for traveling. I'm sure the women would rather walk, but they will need tents and supplies. The pole drag will be good for that."

Ayla removed the carrying baskets before she put the halter on Whinney and gave the rope attached to it to Jondalar. He fastened the other end of it to the back of Racer's halter with enough lead so she could follow, and started out. But the mare was not accustomed to trailing behind the stallion she had borne. He had always followed her. Even though Jondalar was sitting on Racer's back, guiding him with a rein attached to his halter,Her ironic inner smile at the behavior of the horses was quickly dispelled when she looked at the man lying where he fell. "He'll need to be carried, Joharran," she said.

The leader nodded, then called on some people to help. They impro- vised a carrying device by first binding together a couple of spears to make a sturdy pole, then fastening pieces of clothing across two of them. By the time Thefona and Kimeran returned with news of a small shelter nearby, the man had been carefully moved to the stretcher and was ready to be carried. Ayla called Wolf to her as four men each lifted one end of a pole.

When they arrived, Ayla helped several people who had begun cleaning out the hollowed-out space at ground level in the nearby limestone wall, protected by a small overhanging ledge. The dirt floor was littered with dried leaves and debris blown in by the wind, and dried hyena droppings left sometime before by the scavenging carnivores who had used the place for a lair.

Ayla was pleased to find that water was close by. There was a smaller cave at the back of the sheltered depression and just inside it was a spring-they moved him to the bed and awoke again, grimacing and struggling to breathe. Ayla folded another bedroll and propped him up on it to try to make him more comfortable. He tried to smile his thanks, but coughed up blood instead. She wiped his chin with a piece of soft rabbit skin, an item she usually kept with her medicinals.

Ayla went through the limited supplies in her medicine bag and tried to think if there was anything she might have forgotten that would help allay his pain. Gentian roots might help, or a wash of arnica. Both could relieve the internal pain of bruises and other aches, but she had neither with her.

The fine hairs on the fruit of hops could be used as a sedative to help him relax, just by breathing the air near them, but they were not readily avail- able. Maybe something in smoke would help, since swallowing liquid was not going to be possible. No, it would probably make him cough, which would be worse. She knew it was hopeless, it was just a matter of time, but she had to do something, at least for his pain.

Wait, she thought. Didn't I see that plant from the valerian family on the way here? The one with the aromatic roots? One of the Mamuti at that Summer Meeting called it spikenard. I don't know the name in Zelandonii.

She looked up at the people around her and saw the young woman thatabout healing. She didn't have any kind of tattoo marks like the zelandonia did, but the people she came from might have different ways. Some people tried to fool others about what they knew, but the stranger didn't seem to be trying to impress anyone by bragging or talking big. Instead, she did things that were genuinely impressive, like the way she used that spear-throwing thing. Thefona had been thinking about Ayla, but was surprised when the woman called her name.

"Thefona, may I ask you something?" Ayla said.

"Yes," Thefona said, and thought, She does have a strange way of talking. Not her words, but the way they sound. Maybe that's why she doesn't talk much.

"Do you know much about plants?"

"Everyone knows something about plants," Thefona said.

"I'm thinking about one whose leaves resemble foxglove, but it has yel- low flowers, like dandelions. The name I know it by is 'spikenard,' but that's a Mamutoi word."add an explanation, though explaining her actions as a medicine woman was not something she usually did. "If it is what I think it is, it could be helpful. I've used the mashed roots as a poultice to help mend bone frac- tures, but it is easily absorbed and has soothing powers. If I mix it with a little datura and maybe some pulverized yarrow leaves, I think it might help ease his pain. I want to see if I can find it."

"Yes, of course I'll watch him," Thefona said, pleased, for some un- known reason, that the foreign woman had asked for her help.

Joharran and Manvelar were talking to Ranokol in quiet tones, but even though they were right next to her, Ayla hardly heard them. She was con- centrating on the wounded man and watching the water heating-far too slowly. Wolf was lying on the ground nearby, with his head between his paws, watching her every move. When the water began to steam, she added the spikenard roots so they would soften enough to be pounded into a mash for a poultice. She had been glad to find comfrey as well. A wet dressing of the fresh crushed roots and leaves was also good for bruises and fractures, and while she didn't think it would mend Shevonar's injuries, she was willing to try anything that might ease his pain.took a breath and winced with pain. It seemed to surprise him. "You were hurt, Shevonar, by a bison. Zelandoni is on her way, too. I am trying to help until she gets here. I put a poultice on your chest to draw out some of the pain."

He nodded, but even that was an effort.

"Do you want to see your brother? He's been waiting to see you."

He nodded again, and Ayla got up and went to the men waiting nearby.

"He's awake. He'd like to see you," she said to Ranokol.

The young man quickly got up and went to his brother's bed. Ayla fol- lowed, along with Joharran and Manvelar.

"How are you feeling?" Ranokol said.

Shevonar tried to smile, but it turned into a grimace of pain as an unex- pected cough brought up a drool of red out of the corner of his mouth. A look of panic filled his brother's eyes, then he noticed the plaster on his brother's chest.Get this off him!" he screamed.

"No, Ranokol," Shevonar said. The voice of the injured man could hardly be heard. "Not her fault. Helps." He tried to sit up, then collapsed, uncon- scious.

"Shevonar. Wake up, Shevonar! He's dead! Oh Great Mother, he's dead!" Ranokol cried, slumping down on the bed beside his brother.

Ayla checked Shevonar's pulse, while Joharran pulled Ranokol away.

"No. He's not dead, yet," she said. "But he doesn't have long. I hope his mate arrives soon."

"He's not dead, Ranokol, but he could have been," Joharran said an- grily. "This woman may not be zelandoni, but she knows how to help.

You're the one who is making him worse. Who knows if he'll wake up again to say his last words to Relona."

"No one can make him worse, Joharran. There is no hope for him. He may go anytime. Don't blame a man grieving for his brother," Ayla said, then moved to get up. "Let me make some tea, to settle everyone."reached for her medicine bag to see what she had to make tea. Perhaps chamomile, she thought, with dried linden flowers or licorice root to sweeten it.

The long afternoon wore on. People came and went, but Ayla didn't no- tice them. Shevonar regained consciousness and asked for his mate, then slipped back into a restless sleep several times. His stomach was dis- tended and hard, and the skin was almost black. She felt sure he was try- ing to hold on just to see her again.

Somewhat later, Ayla picked up her waterbag to get a drink, found it empty, then put it down and forgot about her thirst. Portula had come into the small shelter to see how things were. She still felt self-conscious about her part in Marona's trick and tried to stay out of the way, but she saw Ayla pick up the waterbag, shake it, and find it empty. Portula hurried to the pool, filled her own waterbag, and returned with the cold water.

"Would you like a drink, Ayla?" she asked, holding out her dripping wa- terbag.did get a warm and comfortable hunting outfit. Though I doubt that was what Marona intended, I will get use out of it, so let's just forget about it."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Portula said. "There isn't anything anyone can to do help. I'm surprised he is still with us. He asks for his mate when he wakes up. Joharran told him she is on her way," Ayla said. "I think he's holding on for her. I only wish I could do more to make it easier for him, but most medicines that alleviate pain have to be swallowed. I've given him a skin soaked with water to wet his mouth, but with his injury, I'm afraid if he drank anything, it would make it worse."

Joharran was out in front of the shelter looking south, the way Jondalar had gone, anxiously waiting for his return with Relona. The sun was falling low in the west, and darkness would follow soon. He had sent people to collect more wood so they could build up a large bonfire to help guide them; they were even taking some from the surround. The last time Shevonar woke, he eyes were glazed, and the leader knew death was near.

The young man had put up such a brave struggle to cling to a last shred of life, Joharran hoped his mate would arrive before he lost the battle. Fi-his eyes again and shook his head slightly, trying to make himself wake up.

"Shevonar, it's me. I came as fast as I could. Talk to me. Please talk to me." Relona's voice cracked in a sob.

The injured man opened his eyes and fought to focus on the face bending near. "Relona," he said. It was barely audible. The start of a smile was erased by an expression of pain. He looked again at the woman and watched her eyes fill with tears. "Don't cry," he whispered, then closed his eyes and struggled to breathe.

Relona's eyes were pleading when she looked up at Ayla, who looked down, then back up, and shook her head. She glanced around in panic, desperately searching out someone else who would give her another an- swer, but no one would return her gaze. She looked back at the man and watched him strain to take a breath, then saw blood spill from the corner of his mouth.

"Shevonar!" she cried, and reached for his hand."No, no. Shevonar, Shevonaaar," Relona cried. She laid her head on his chest and heaved great sobs of sorrow and grief. Ranokol was standing beside her with tears running down his cheeks, looking bewildered, dazed, at a loss. He didn't know what to do.

Suddenly they were startled by a loud and eerie howl at close quarters that sent shivers down their backs. As one, they looked at Wolf. He was standing on all four legs with his head thrown back, wailing a spine-tingling wolf song.

"What's he doing?" Ranokol said, quite upset.

"He is grieving for your brother," said the familiar voice of Zelandoni. "As we all do."

Everyone was relieved to see her. She had arrived with Relona and several others, but had stayed back to observe when Shevonar's mate rushed ahead. Relona's sobs turned to a wailing moan, a keening of her grief. Zelandoni joined her in her anguished lament, then several others.

Wolf howled along with them. Finally, Ranokol broke down sobbing andwolf howl, joining in the keening wolf song of grief.

After a while, the donier helped Relona up and led her to a fur that had been spread on the ground near the fire. Joharran helped the man's brother to a place on the other side of the hearth. The woman sat there rocking back and forth, making a low moaning sound, indifferent to everything around her. Ranokol just sat staring blankly at the fire.

The Zelandoni of the Third spoke quietly with the huge Zelandoni from the Ninth Cave, and shortly after returned with a steaming cup of liquid in each hand. The donier of the Ninth Cave took one cup from the Third and urged it on Relona, who drank it without objection, as though she didn't know, or care, what she did. The Third's other cup was brought to Ranokol, who ignored the proffered drink, but after some urging he finally drank it.

Soon both of them were lying on the furs near the fire, asleep.

"I'm glad to see her quieted," Joharran said, "and him, too."

"They needed to grieve," Ayla said."But you must be tired," Joharran said. "You hardly left his side for a moment."

"I wish I could have done more for him. I couldn't think of anything to help him," Ayla said, shaking her head and looking dejected.

"But you did," said the older man who was the Zelandoni of the Third.

"You eased his pain. No one could have done more, and he wouldn't have held on to life without your help. I would not have used a poultice in that way. To ease aches or bruises, yes, but for internal injuries? I don't think I would have thought of it. Yet it did seem to help."

"Yes. It was a perceptive way to treat him," the Ninth's Zelandoni said.

"Have you done that before?"

"No. And I wasn't sure it would help, but I had to try something," Ayla said.

"You did well," the donier said. "But now you should have something to eat, and rest."furs over there," Joharran said, showing her the place.

Ayla lay down, thinking to rest a while until Jondalar came back. She was asleep almost as soon as she closed her eyes. When the fuel collec- tors returned with the wood, nearly everyone was asleep. They put it in a pile near the fireplace, then went to the sleeping places they had chosen.

Jondalar noticed the wooden bowl she usually took with her and used to heat small amounts of water with hot stones for medicinal teas. She had also constructed a makeshift framework of antlers, shed the previous sea- son, to support a waterbag directly over a flame. Although the deer bladder held water, it seeped a little, which prevented it from catching on fire when it was used for heating water or cooking.

Joharran stopped his brother to talk for a few moments. "Jondalar, I want to learn more about those spear-throwers. I saw that bison fall from your spear, and you were farther away than most. If we'd all had that weapon, we wouldn't have had to get so close, and Shevonar might not have been trampled."

"You know I'll show anyone who wants to learn, but it does take prac- tice," Jondalar said."It's still hard to get used to the idea of using animals for anything be- sides meat or fur," Joharran said. "I wouldn't have believed you could if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. But it's that spear-thrower I want to know more about. We'll talk tomorrow."

The brothers bade a good night to each other, then Jondalar went to where Ayla was sleeping and joined her. Wolf looked up. He watched her breathing quietly in the glow from the fire, then looked back at the wolf. I'm glad he's always there watching out for her, he thought, and stroked his head, then he slipped in beside her. He was sorry Shevonar had died, not only because he was a member of the Ninth Cave, but because he knew how hard it was on Ayla when someone died and there was nothing she could do. She was a healer, but there were some wounds no one could heal.

Zelandoni had been busy all morning, preparing the body of Shevonar to be carried back to the Ninth Cave. Being near someone whose spirit had left the body was very disturbing for most people, and his burial would in- volve more than the usual ritual. It was considered very bad luck if some- one died while hunting. If they were alone, the bad luck was obvious, theThe One Who Was First was thinking about what might be needed, per- haps a prohibition on the hunting of bison for the rest of the season to as- suage the ill fortune might be required. Ayla saw her relaxing with a cup of tea near the fire, sitting on a stack of several thickly stuffed pads that had been brought for her on Whinney's pole drag. She seldom sat on low cushions, finding it more and more difficult and cumbersome to get up as she grew more corpulent with each year.

Ayla approached the donier. "Zelandoni, can I talk to you?"

"Yes, of course."

"If you're too busy, it can wait. I just wanted to ask you something," Ayla said.

"I can spare a little time now," Zelandoni said. "Get a cup for tea and join me." She motioned to Ayla to sit on a mat on the ground.

"I just wanted to ask you if you know of anything more that I could have done for Shevonar. Is there any way to heal internal wounds? When I lived with the Clan, there was a man who had been accidentally stabbed with astepped on by a full-grown bison, Ayla," Zelandoni said. "Some lumps and swellings can be lanced to drain, or small objects cut out, slivers or that broken piece of the knife that your Clan woman removed, but that was a brave thing for her to do. It is dangerous to cut into the body. You are cre- ating an injury that often is bigger than the one you are trying to fix. I have cut in a few times, but only when I was sure it would help and there was no other way."

"That's how I feel," Ayla said.

"It's also necessary to know something about what the inside of the body is like. There are many similarities between the inside of a human body and the inside of an animal's body, and I have often butchered an animal very carefully to see what it looks like and how they are connected.

It's easy to see the tubes that carry blood from the heart, and the sinew that moves the muscles. Those things are very similar in all animals, but some things are different, an aurochs's stomach is different from a horse's, for example, and many things are arranged differently. It can be useful and quite interesting."and 'spleen.' I don't know the words in Zelandonii. They bleed heavily when damaged. Do you know which ones I mean?" Ayla said.

"Yes, I do," the First said.

"The blood had no place to go. I think that's why he turned black and got so hard. It filled him up inside until something burst," the young woman said.

"I examined him, and I agree with your assessment. The blood filled his stomach and some of his intestines. I believe part of the intestines burst,"

the donier said.

"The intestines are the long tubes that lead to the outside?"

"Yes."

"Jondalar taught me that word. They were damaged on Shevonar, too, I think, but it was the blood filling him up inside that made him die."Ayla nodded and lowered her head.

"You did everything you could, Ayla. We will all walk in the world of the spirits someday. When Doni calls us, young or old, we have no choice. Not even a Zelandoni is gifted enough to stop it, or even to know when it will happen. That is a secret Doni shares with no one. She allowed the Spirit of the Bison to take Shevonar in exchange for the bison we took. It is a sacri- fice She sometimes demands. Perhaps She felt we needed to be reminded that Her Gifts should not be taken for granted. We kill Her creatures so that we may live, but we need to appreciate the Gift of Life She has given us when we take the lives of Her animals. The Great Mother is not always gentle. Sometimes Her lessons are hard."

"Yes. That is what I have learned. I do not think the Spirit World is a gentle place. The lessons are hard, but valuable," Ayla said.

Zelandoni did not reply. She had found that people often kept talking to fill the gap if she did not respond immediately, and she learned more from her silence than she would have from asking questions. After a time, Ayla did continue.to bear it."

The donier was surprised at the depth of understanding Ayla's com- ments showed. Were the people that she called Clan really capable of such perception? If she had said the Great Earth Mother instead of the Spirit of the Cave Lion, the words could have come from a Zelandoni.

Finally, The One Who Was First continued. "Nothing could be done for Shevonar, except to ease his pain, and you did that. Using a poultice was an intriguing approach. Did you learn that from your Clan woman?"

"No," Ayla said, shaking her head. "I've never done that before. But he was in so much pain, and I knew with his injuries I couldn't give him any- thing liquid to drink. I thought of using smoke. I've burned mullein to make a smoke that alleviates certain coughs, and I know plants that are sometimes burned in sweatlodges, but I was afraid that it might make him cough, and with his damaged breathing sacs, I didn't want to do that. Then I noticed the bruising, though it was more than that, I think. The bruise on his skin turned almost black after a while, but I know that certain plants can ease the pain of bruising when put on the skin, and I happened to notice some on themore you could have done. The Mother decided to call him, and no one can thwart Her will."

"You're right, of course, Zelandoni. I didn't think there was any hope, but I wanted to ask anyway. I know you have much to do, and I don't want to take any more of your time," Ayla said as she got up to leave. "Thank you for answering my questions."

Zelandoni watched the young woman as she started to walk away.

"Ayla," she called. "I wonder if you would do something for me."

"Of course, anything, Zelandoni," she said, "When we get back to the Ninth Cave, will you dig up some red ochre?

There is an embankment near The River by the big rock. Do you know where that is?"

"Yes, I saw the ochre when Jondalar and I went swimming. It's very bright red, more red than most. I'll get some for you."shelter, near the bridge up to Down River, to be ritually washed and dressed in his ceremonial clothing and jewelry by Zelandoni, Relona, and several others.

"Ayla," Zelandoni called as she was walking back to Marthona's dwell- ing. "We're going to be needing that red ochre you said you would get for me."

"I'll go get it right away," Ayla said.

"Come with me. I'll give you a special basket and something to dig it with," the woman said. Zelandoni led her to her dwelling and held the drape aside so Ayla could enter. She had never been inside the donier's home before, and she looked around with interest. Something about it reminded her of Iza's hearth, perhaps the many drying leaves and other parts of plants that were hanging from cords strung across the back end of the main room. There were several raised beds against the wall panels in the front part, though she was sure that was not where the large woman slept. There appeared to be two other rooms partitioned off. Glancing through the opening, she saw that one of them appeared to be a cooking area. She guessed the other might be a sleeping room.but where he could watch the activities. When he saw Ayla, he immediately ran to her. The donier stopped.

"I think it might be wise if you kept Wolf away from the body of Shevonar," she said. "For his own protection. Until the man is safely buried in sacred ground, his life spirit is floating free and very confused. I know how to protect people, but I'm not sure how to defend a wolf, and I am con- cerned that Shevonar's elan might try to inhabit this animal. I have seen wolves go mad, and foam at the mouth. I believe they are trying to fight off something, maybe something evil or a bewildered spirit. The bite of such an animal will kill like a deadly poison."