THE SHELTERS OF STONE

She had been kind to him, talked to him, listened to him, even made him a beautiful decorated tunic for his adoption ceremony into the Lanzadonii. He loved her so much, it hurt to think about it, but he didn't think he had a chance. He had struggled with himself for a long time to get up enough courage to ask if she would be his mate, and could hardly believe it when she finally accepted. It was after her hearth cousin Jondalar returned with Ayla, both of whom he liked immediately. They didn't treat him as though he were different.

Wherever Echozar went, people stared at him. The combined characteristics that he inherited from the Clan and the Others were not the most appealing. In height, he was as tall as an average man of the Others, but he retained the powerful, barrel-chested physique, relatively short, bowed legs, and hairy body of the Clan. His neck was long and he could speak, he even had a slight chin, like the Others, though it receded, making it look weak. His prominent nose and heavy browridges with unruly eyebrows that crossed his forehead in a single line were entirely Clan. His forehead was not. It rose up as straight and high as any man of the Others.

The combination seemed outlandish to many people, as though he didn't quite fit together, but not to Ayla. She had grown up with the Clan and had consequently adopted their standard of beauty. She had always thought of herself as big and ugly. She was too tall, and her face was too bland and flat. Though she may have thought the look of the mixture was attractive, to everyone else Echozar was extraordinarily ugly, except for his eyes. Liquid dark at night and sparkling with highlights of hazel in the sun, his large, deep brown eyes were profoundly intense, acutely compelling, and highly intelligent, and when he looked at her, they revealed his love for Joplaya.

Though she did not love him, Joplaya did feel a kind of kinship with Echozar and a genuine respect. Though people stared at her because of her exotic beauty, it still made her feel different, and she hated it as much as he did. She also felt comfortable with him, she could talk to him. She decided if she couldn't have the man she loved, she would mate the man who loved her, and she knew she would never find a man who loved her more than Echozar.

As the group from the camp drew near, Ayla noticed Brukeval become tense. He was staring at Echozar, and there was no friendliness in his expression. It made her aware of the similarities and the differences between them. In Echozar's case, it was his mother who had given birth to a child that was mixed; with Brukeval, it was his grandmother. Echozar's Clan characteristics were definitely more pronounced, but to her-and to everyone there-the mixture was obvious in both. Brukeval did, however, resemble the Others more than Echozar.

Though she was learning to appreciate what was pleasing to the Others, she still found the strong Clan features attractive. She had meant it when she told Brukeval that she couldn't understand why he thought no woman would want him. She probably would consider him, if she weren't mating Jondalar and if she were a Zelandonii woman. But she knew she wasn't really a Zelandonii woman, at least not yet, and she personally wouldn't consider Brukeval at all. While she thought he was handsome, and that he did have a lot to offer, there was something about him that disturbed her. The member of the Clan that he reminded her of most was Broud, and the way he was looking at Echozar right now explained why.

"Greetings, Brukeval," Jondalar said, walking up to the man with a smile on his face. "I think you know Dalanar, the man of my hearth, but have you met my cousin Joplaya, and her Promised, Echozar?" Jondalar was prepared to do the formal introductions, and Echozar had raised his hands in readiness, but before he could begin, Brukeval interrupted.

"I have no desire to touch a flathead!" he said, putting his hands down to his sides, then he turned aside and stalked away.

Everyone was stunned. It was Folara who finally spoke.

"How could he be so rude!" she said. "I know he blames flatheads for his mother's death-I guess I should say the Clan now-but that was unforgivable. I know mother taught Brukeval better manners than that, if no one else did. She would be appalled."

"My mother may have been flathead or Clan. You can say it any way you want, but I am neither," Echozar said. "I am Lanzadonii."

"Yes, you are," Joplaya said, reaching for his hand. "And soon we will be mated."

"We know there is Clan in Brukeval's lineage, too," Dalanar said. "It's obvious. If he can't bear to touch someone with that background, how can he stand himself?"

"He can't. That's his problem," Jondalar said. "Brukeval hates himself. He was teased a lot when he was young, other children used to call him a flathead, and he always denied it."

"But he can't change what he is no matter how much he denies it," Ayla said.