"Because you will have to listen, and perhaps go through, if you are go- ing to help the First find the elan of your brother, Jondalar," the woman said, then she added, "The zelandonia have been trying to understand why Jonokol was inspired to make these figures here. I'm beginning to get an idea." The woman smiled enigmatically at Jondalar and Ayla, then turned to walk deeper into the cave.

"Oh, before you go on," Ayla said to the woman, touching her arm to detain her. "I don't know what to call you, can I ask your name?"

"My name isn't important," she said. "When I become Zelandoni, I will be giving it up anyway. I am the First Acolyte to the Zelandoni of the Sec- ond Cave."

"Then, I suppose I could call you Acolyte of the Second," Ayla said.

"Yes, you could, although the Zelandoni of the Second has more than one acolyte. The other two are not here. They have gone ahead to the Summer Meeting.""I've only been an acolyte since the last Summer Meeting, and like Jonokol, I still use my own name most of the time. Perhaps I should give you a formal greeting and introduction." He held out both his hands. "I am Mikolan of the Fourteenth Cave of the Zelandonii, Second Acolyte of the Zelandoni of the Fourteenth Cave. And I welcome you," he said.

Ayla took his hands in hers. "I greet you, Mikolan of the Fourteenth Cave of the Zelandonii. I am Ayla of the Mamutoi, Member of the Lion Camp, Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth, Chosen by the Spirit of the Cave Lion, Protected by the Cave Bear, Friend of the horses, Whinney and Racer, and the hunter, Wolf."

"I seem to have heard that some people to the east refer to their zelan- donia as the Mammoth Hearth?" the woman acolyte said.

"You are correct," Jondalar said. "They are the Mamutoi. Ayla and I lived with them for a year, but I'm surprised anyone here has heard about them.

They live far away."

She looked at Ayla. "If you are a daughter of the Mammoth Hearth, that explains some things. You are zelandoni!""I don't think I want to be," Ayla said.

"That may be," the First Acolyte of the Second said, then turned and continued leading them into the heart of Fountain Rocks.

Ahead, they began to see a glow, and as they approached, it grew al- most brilliant. After the total darkness of the cave with only a few small lights, their eyes had adapted, and any greater illumination was all but daz- zling. The corridor opened out and Ayla saw several people waiting in an enlarged area. It seemed almost crowded, and as she reached the area, and recognized people she had met, she realized that everyone there was zelandonia, except for Jondalar and her.

The large woman from the Ninth Cave was sitting on a seat someone had brought in for her. She got up and smiled. "We've been waiting for you," said the First. She gave both of them a hug that was held at a slight distance, and Ayla suddenly understood that it was a formal embrace, a greeting one gave to close associates in public.

One of the other Zelandonia nodded to Ayla. She responded with a nod to the short and slightly built man she identified as Zelandoni of the Elev-partially filled waterbag was on the ground beside a good-size wooden cooking bowl full of steaming water. Ayla watched a young woman use a pair of bentwood tongs to fish out a couple of cooking stones from the bot- tom of the cooking bowl, then add more from the fire. The steam billowed out as the hot rocks touched the water. When she looked up, Ayla recog- nized Mejera and smiled at her.

Then the One Who Was First added some material from a pouch. She's making a decoction, cooking it, not just steeping a tea, Ayla thought. There is probably some root or bark in that drink, something strong. The next time hot stones were added, the billowing steam filled the air with a strong aroma. The mint was easy to detect, but she smelled other odors and fla- vors, which she tried to identify, and suspected that the mint was there to cover the taste of something less pleasant.

A couple of people spread a heavy leather covering on the damp and rocky floor near the seat that the First had occupied. "Ayla, Jondalar, why don't you come over here and make yourselves comfortable," the large woman said, indicating the leather. "I have something for you to drink." The young woman who was tending the potion in the cooking bowl brought outsuddenly feeling rather anxious about drinking some unknown decoction that she knew was intended to help her find some other world. Her past experience with similar drinks had not been especially agreeable.

Zelandoni observed her closely for a while. She knew Jonokol well enough to understand that he would not have made the suggestion without good reason. He must have noted that the young woman was showing some distress, and she did seem to be agitated.

"Certainly, Jonokol. Why don't you show her the painted walls," the First said.

"I'd like to go with them," Jondalar said. He wasn't feeling very calm himself. "And maybe the torch carrier could come with us."

"Yes, of course," said the First Acolyte of the Second, picking up the torch she had put out. "I'll need to relight it."

"There is some fine work on the wall behind the zelandonia, but I don't want to bother them," Jonokol said. "Let me show you something interest- ing down this corridor."Kimeran's sister. She was an exceptional painter," Jonokol said.

"She was good, but I think the student has outdone the teacher," Jon- dalar said.

"Well, for the zelandonia, it is not so much the quality, although it is ap- preciated. It is the experience. These paintings are not just for looking at, you know," the First Acolyte of the Second said.

"I'm sure that's true," Jondalar said with a wry smile, "but for me, I think I like the looking more. I must admit, I'm not exactly waiting eagerly for this...

ceremony. I'm willing, of course, and I think it may be interesting, but for the most part, I'm happy to let the zelandonia have the experience."

Jonokol grinned at his admission. "You are not alone in that feeling, Jondalar. Most people would rather stay firmly in this world. Come, let me show you something else before we have to get serious."

The artist acolyte led them to another area on the right side of the pas- sage, where many more stalagmites and stalactites than usual had formed.

The wall was covered with the calcareous formations, but on top of thePleasure,'" Jondalar said.

"That is one interpretation," the woman acolyte said. "That could be a male attempting to mount the female in front, but I believe it is purposely ambiguous."

"Did your teacher paint these, Jonokol?" Ayla asked.

"No. I don't know who made them," Jonokol said. "No one does. They were done long ago, when the mammoths were painted. People say they were made by the ancestors, the forebears."

"There is something I want to show you, Ayla," the woman said.

"Are you going to show her the vulva?" Jonokol said with some surprise.

"That is not usually shown on a first visit."

"I know, but I think we should make an exception for her," the other acolyte said, holding up the lamp and leading the way to a place not far from the horses. When she stopped, she lowered the torch to throw lightformed an exact replica of a woman's sexual organ. The shape, the folds, even a depression that matched the entrance to her vagina, everything was there. Only the red color was added, to highlight it, to make sure they could find it easily.

"It is a woman!" Ayla said, astonished. "It is exactly like a woman! I have never seen anything like it."

"Now do you understand why this cave is so sacred? The Mother her- self made this for us. It is proof that this cave is the Entrance to the Mother's Womb," said the woman who was training to serve the Great Earth Mother.

"Have you seen this before, Jondalar?" Ayla asked.

"Only once. Zelandoni showed it to me," he said. "It is remarkable. It is one thing for an artist like Jonokol to look at a cave wall, see the figure that is in it, and bring it to the surface for everyone to see. But this was here just as it is. The added color only makes it a little easier to see."

"There is one more place I want to show you," Jonokol said.mammoth's stomach, rounded outward. Ayla had to look twice, then reach to touch to convince herself that they actually were concave, not convex, dips and not bumps.

"They are remarkable!" Ayla said. "They are painted so that they seem to be opposite of what they are!"

"These are new, aren't they? I don't recall seeing them before," Jondalar said. "Did you paint them, Jonokol?"

"No, but I'm sure you'll meet the woman who did," he said.

"Everyone agrees, she is exceptional," the woman acolyte said. "As is Jonokol, of course. We are lucky to have two artists who are so talented."

"A few small figures are just beyond here," Jonokol said, looking at Ayla, "a woolly rhinoceros, a cave lion, an engraved horse, but it's a very narrow passage and hard to reach. A series of lines marks the end."

"They are probably ready for us. I think we should go back," the woman said.She had already become disoriented, first from chewing the roots to soften them, then from the other preparations she had drunk during that night of special ceremony and celebration. When she noticed that there was some liquid left in the ancient bowl, she drank it so it wouldn't be wasted. The potent concoction had become stronger from soaking, and the effect on her was devastating. In her confused state, she had followed the light of the fires into the honeycombed depths of the cave, and when she'd come upon Creb and the other mog-urs, she hadn't been able to go back.

Creb was changed after that night, and she was never the same, either.

That was when the mysterious dreams started and the waking moments of strange feelings and enigmatic visions that took her to some other place and sometimes came as warnings. They had been stronger and more prevalent on their Journey.

And now, as she stared up at the wall, the solid stone suddenly felt tenuous, as though she could see through it or into it. Instead of the fire- lights barely glinting off the hard surface, the wall was soft and deep and utterly black. And she was there, inside that menacing, nebulous space, and couldn't find her way out. She felt exhausted and weak, and she hurt"What? Oh, Jondalar. I saw Wolf," she said, blinking her eyes and shaking her head to try to overcome her dazed confusion and vague sense of foreboding.

"What do you mean, you saw Wolf? He didn't come with us. Remem- ber? You left him with Folara," Jondalar said, his forehead creased with fear and concern.

"I know, but he was there," she said, pointing to the wall. "He came for me when I needed him."

"He has before," Jondalar said. "He saved your life, more than once.

Maybe you were remembering."

"Maybe," Ayla said, but she didn't really think that was it.

"Did you say you saw a wolf there, on that wall?" Jonokol said.

"Not exactly on it," Ayla said, "but Wolf was there."After her vivid memory of the time when she drank some liquid that al- tered her perceptions, and her moment of displacement when she saw Wolf in the wall, Ayla was, if anything, feeling less inclined to drink some kind of beverage that would put her into some other kind of reality, or next world; but she didn't feel that she had a choice.

"It's not easy to feel relaxed in a cave like this," Ayla said, "and it fright- ens me to think about drinking that tea, but if you think it is necessary, I am willing to do what you want."

The First smiled again, and this time it seemed genuine. "Your honesty is refreshing, Ayla. Of course it is not easy to relax here. That is not the purpose of this place, and you are probably right to have some fear of this tea. It is very powerful. I was going to explain to you that you will feel strange after you drink it, and its effects are not entirely predictable. The effects usually wear off in a day or so, and I don't know of anyone who has been harmed by it, but if you would rather not, no one will hold it against you.""You know I've always been uncomfortable with the spirit world, Zelan- doni," Jondalar said, "and in the last couple of days, what with digging graves and everything, I've been much closer to that place than I want to be until the Mother calls me. But I was the one who asked you to help Thonolan, and I can do no less than help you in any way I can. In fact, I'll be just as glad to get it all over with."

"Then why don't you both come over here and sit down on this leather pad, and we'll proceed," said the First Among Those Who Served The Great Earth Mother.

When they sat down the young woman ladled the tea into cups. Ayla glanced at Mejera and smiled. She smiled back, shyly, and Ayla realized that she was quite young. She seemed nervous, and Ayla wondered if it was the first time for her to be participating in this kind of ceremony. Proba- bly the zelandonia were using this occasion as a teaching experience.

"Take your time," they were told by Zelandoni of the Third, who was as- sisting the acolyte in handing them the cups. "It tastes strong, but with the mint, it's not too bad."later, after it was boiled. In any case, it wasn't a taste to savor, and she finally just drank it down.

She saw that Jondalar had done the same, and so did the First. Then she noticed that Mejera, who had boiled the water and ladled the beverage, had also drunk a cup.

"Jondalar, is this the stone you brought with you from Thonolan's bur- ial?" the First said, showing him the small, sharp-edged, ordinary-looking gray stone with one iridescent blue opal face.

"Yes, it is," he said. He would recognize that stone anywhere.

"Good. It is an unusual stone, and I'm sure it still carries a trace of your brother's elan. Take it in your hand, Jondalar, and then hold hands with Ayla so that the stone is held by both of you. Move close to my seat and with your other hand, take my hand. Now, Mejera, you move up close to me and take my hand, and Ayla, if you will come a little closer, you and Mejera can hold hands."stronger than he had thought. They were both nearly lost to the deep void, and Mamut warned her against ever using them again. Though she did have more of those roots with her, she didn't plan to take them.

The four who had consumed the drink were now facing each other, holding hands, the First sitting on a low padded stool, the rest sitting on the leather mat on the ground. The Zelandoni of the Eleventh brought an oil lamp and placed it in the middle of them. Ayla had seen similar lamps but found herself quite intrigued by it. She was already beginning to feel some effects from the drink as she stared at the stone that held fire.

The lamp was made of limestone. The general shape, including the bowl-like section and the handle extension, had been pecked out with a much harder stone, like granite. Then it was smoothed with sandstone and decorated with symbolic markings etched in with a flint burin. Three wicks were resting against the side of the bowl opposite the handle at different angles, each with one end sticking out of the liquid fat, and the rest of the absorbent material soaking in it. One was quick-starting and hot-burning lichen that melted the fat, the second was dried moss twisted into a sort of cord that gave good light, and the third was made of a dried strip of a po- rous fungus that absorbed the liquefied fat so well, it kept burning evendiminutive size, the light from the single lamp spread out and lit the faces of the four people holding hands with a warm golden glow. But beyond the circle deep and utter darkness filled every cranny, every crack and hollow, with a black so complete, it felt thick and stifling. Ayla began to feel appre- hensive, then she turned her head and caught the bare glimpse of a glow coming from the long corridor. Some of the lamps that had guided their way must still be lit, she thought, and let out a breath that she didn't know she was holding. She was feeling very strange. The decoction was taking effect quickly. It seemed as though things around her were slowing down or that she was going faster. She looked at Jondalar and found him staring at her, and she had the strangest sense that she almost knew what he was think- ing. Then she looked at Zelandoni and Mejera, and felt something, too, but it was not as strong as her feeling with Jondalar, and she wondered if she was imagining it.

She became conscious of hearing music, flutes, drums, and people singing, but not with words. She wasn't quite sure when or even from where it originated. Each singer maintained a single note, or series of repetitive notes, until he or she ran out of breath, and then would take a breath and start again. Most singers and the drummers repeated the same thing over and over, but a few exceptional singers varied their song, as did most ofher beautiful, rich contralto, was one who varied her tones in a melodic way. Mejera had a pure, high voice, and a simple, repetitive set of tones.

Jondalar also sang a repetition of tones, a chant he had obviously per- fected and was happy with. Ayla had never really heard him sing before, but his voice was rich and true, and she liked the sound. She wondered why he didn't sing more.

Ayla felt that she should join in, but she had attempted to sing when she lived with the Mamutoi and knew she simply didn't know how to carry a tune. She never learned as a child, and it was a little late to learn now.

Then she heard one of the men nearby who just crooned in a monotone. It reminded her of when she was living alone in her valley and used to hum a similar monotone at night while she rocked herself to sleep, the leather cloak that she had used to hold her son to her hip crumpled up into a ball and held close to her stomach.

Very softly, she began to hum her low-pitched monotone and found her- self rocking very slightly. There was something soothing about the music.

Her own humming relaxed her, and the sounds of the others gave her a comforting, protected feeling, as though they were supporting her andfirm grip, as she held his, and she was extremely conscious of the hard stone held between them, which was slightly disconcerting, but his hand made her feel secure.

Though she couldn't see it, she was sure the flat opal side was against her palm, which meant that the triangular ridge on the side opposite was in his. As she concentrated on it, the stone seemed to be warming, matching their body heat, adding to it, feeling as though it were becoming a part of them or they a part of it. She remembered the chill she'd felt when she first entered the cave, and that the cold intensified as they got farther into its depths, but at the moment, sitting on the padded leather and dressed in her warm clothes, she did not feel cold at all.

Her attention was caught by the fire in the lamp; it made her think of the pleasant heat of fire in a hearth. She stared at the small flickering flame, became fixated on the bit of incandescence to the exclusion of everything else. She watched the small yellow light as it fluttered and trembled. With every breath she took, she seemed to control the flame.

As she watched closely, she saw that the light wasn't entirely yellow. To keep still while she studied it, she held her breath. The small fire wasing with the lamp, moving to the meter of the music. As it danced over the glossy surface of the melted tallow, its light reflecting from the fuel, the flame grew more radiant. It filled her eyes with its softly glowing lumines- cence until she could see nothing else.

It made her feel airy, weightless, carefree, as though she could have floated up into the warmth of the light. Everything was easy, effortless. Sme smiled, laughed softly, the found herself looking at Jondalar. She thought about the life that he had started growing inside her, and a sudden flood of intense love for him welled up and overflowed. He could not help but re- spond to her glowing smile; as she watched him begin to smile back, she felt happy and loved. Life was full of joy, and she wanted to share it.

She beamed at Mejera and was rewarded with a tentative smile in re- turn, then turned to Zelandoni and included her in the beneficience of her happiness. In a dispassionate corner of her mind that seemed to have dis- tanced itself from her, she seemed to be watching everything with a strange clarity.

"I am getting ready to call Shevonar's elan and direct him to the spirit world," the One Who Was First interrupted her singing to say. Her voiceeyes close. When she opened them, she seemed to be seeing something that was far away. Then her eyes rolled back, showing only whites, and closed again as she slumped forward in her seat.

The young woman whose hand she was holding was shaking. Ayla wondered if it was from fear or if Mejera was simply overwhelmed. She turned to look at Jondalar again. He seemed to be looking at her and she started to smile, but then she realized that he, too, was staring into space, not seeing her at all but something far away inside his mind. Suddenly, she found herself back in the vicinity of her valley again.

Ayla heard something that chilled her blood and set her heart racing: the thundering roar of a cave lion-and a human scream. Jondalar was there with her, inside her, it seemed; she felt the pain of a leg being mauled by the lion, then he lost consciousness. Ayla stopped, her blood pounding in her ears. It had been so long since she had heard a human sound, yet she knew it was human, and something else. She knew it was her kind of hu- man. She was so stunned that she couldn't think. The scream pulled at her-it was a cry for help.There were two men. She pushed aside the lion she had raised and knelt to examine them. Her main concern was as a medicine woman, but she was astonished and curious as well. She knew they were men, though they were the first men of the Others she could remember seeing.

She knew immediately that the man with the darker hair was beyond hope. He lay in an unnatural position, his neck broken. The toothmarks on his throat proclaimed the cause. Though she had never seen him before, his death upset her. Tears of grief filled her eyes. It wasn't that she loved him, but that she felt she had lost something beyond value before she ever had a chance to appreciate it. She was devastated that the first time she saw people of her own kind, one was dead.

She wanted to acknowledge his humanity, to honor him with a burial, but a close look at the other man made her realize that it would be impos- sible. The man with the yellow hair still breathed, but his life was pumping out of him through a gash in his leg. His only hope was to get him back to the cave as quickly as possible so she could treat him. There was no time for a burial.at the dead man and felt sorrow for the fact of his death. With the formal silent motions of the Clan, she addressed the World of the Spirits.

She had watched Creb, the old Mog-ur, consign the spirit of Iza to the next world with his eloquent flowing movements. She had repeated the same gestures when she found Creb's body in the cave after the earth- quake, though she had never known the full meaning of the holy gestures.

That wasn't important-she knew the intent...

Using the sturdy spear as a lever, in much the same way as she would have used a digging stick to turn over a log or extract a root, she prised free the large stone and jumped hack out of the way as a cascade of loose rock covered the dead man...

When they neared an opening between jagged rock walls, Ayla dis- mounted and examined the ground. It held no fresh spoor. There was no pain, now. It was a different time, much later. The leg was healed, a large scar was all that remained of the wound. They had been riding double on Whinney. Jondalar got down and followed her, but she knew he didn't really want to be there."Red earth, Jondalar. For his grave. "

He nodded, unable to speak. He felt the pressure of tears and made no effort to check them. He poured the red ochre into his hand and broadcast it on the rocks and gravel, then spread a second handful. She waited while he stared at the rocky slope with wet eyes, and when he turned to go, she made a gesture over Thonolan's grave.

They arrived at the blind canyon strewn with huge, sharp-angled boul- ders and started in, drawn to the slope of loose gravel at the far end. Time had passed again. They were living with the Mamutoi now, and the Lion Camp was going to adopt her. They had gone back to her valley, so Ayla could get some of the things she had made to give as gifts for her new people, and were returning. Jondalar stood at the foot of the slope, wishing there was something he could do to acknowledge this burial place of his brother. Perhaps Doni had already found him, since She called him back to Her so young. But he knew Zelandoni would try to find this resting place of Thonolan's spirit and help guide him to the spirit world, if she could. But how could he tell her where this place was? He couldn't even have found it without Ayla.She held up the small pouch. "I made an amulet for you. You, too, were chosen by the Cave Lion. You don't have to wear it, but you should keep it with you. I put a piece of red ochre in it, so it can hold a piece of your spirit and a piece of your totem's, but I think your amulet should hold one more thing."

Jondalar was frowning. He didn't want to offend her, but he wasn't sure if he wanted this Clan totem amulet.

"I think you should take a piece of stone from your brother's grave. A piece of his spirit may stay with it, and you can carry it back in your amulet to your people."

The knots of consternation on his forehead deepened, then suddenly cleared. Of course! That might help Zelandoni find this place in a spirit trance. Maybe there was more to Clan totems than he realized. After all, didn't Doni create the spirits of all the animals? "Yes, I'll keep this and put a stone from Thonolan's grave into it," he said.

He looked at the loose, sharp-edged gravel sloping against the wall in a tenuous equilibrium. Suddenly a stone, giving way to the cosmic force of"Ayla, look at this," he said, showing her the opal facet of the small rock he had picked up. "You'd never guess it from the back. You'd think it was just an ordinary stone, but look here, where it broke off. The colors seem to come from deep inside, and they're so bright, it almost seems alive."

"Maybe it is, or maybe it is a piece of the spirit of your brother," she said.

Ayla became aware of Jondalar's warm hand and the stone pressing against her palm. Its heat increased, not enough to cause discomfort, but enough to make her notice it. Was it Thonolan's spirit that was trying to be noticed? She wished she'd had a chance to get to know the man. The things she'd heard about him since she arrived indicated that he had been well liked. It was a shame that he'd died so young. Jondalar had often said that Thonolan was the one who had wanted to travel. He had gone on the Journey only because his brother was going, and because he didn't really want to mate Marona.

"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 andlooking 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, be- yond 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?