THE SHELTERS OF STONE

Willamar was also gone, on what would likely be his last trading trip of the season. He had gone west, specifically to get salt from the people who lived near the Great Waters of the West. Ayla invited Marthona, Folara, and Zelandoni to share a meal and help her eat the ptarmigan. She told/them she would cook it the way she used to for Creb when she lived with the Clan. She had dug a small pit in Wood River Valley at the foot of the sloping path to the ledge, lined it with rocks, and built up a good fire inside it. While it was burning down, she plucked the birds, including their snowshoe-feathered feet, then gathered an armload of hay to wrap them in.

If she had found eggs, she would have stuffed them in the cavities of the birds, but it was not the season for eggs. Birds didn't try to raise chicks when they were heading into winter. Instead she picked a few handfuls of flavorful herbs, and Marthona had offered her some of the last of her salt, for which Ayla was grateful. The ptarmigan were cooking, along with some ground nuts, in the pit oven, and she had spent time grooming the horses, and now she was looking for something else to do while she waited for the birds to cook.

She decided to stop off and see if she could do anything for Zelandoni. The donier said she was in need of some ground red ochre, and Ayla said she would be happy to get some for her. She went back down to Wood River Valley, whistled for Wolf, whom she had left exploring interesting new mounds and holes, and walked toward The River. She dug up the red-colored iron ore and found a nice river-rounded stone that she could use as a pestle to grind the ochre with. Then she whistled for Wolf again as she headed up the slope, not really paying much attention to who else was on the path.

It came as a shock when she almost bumped into Brukeval. He had actively avoided her since the meeting in the zelandonia lodge about Echozar and the Clan, though he constantly watched her from a distance. He observed her advancing pregnancy with pleasure, knowing she would soon be a mother, and actively imagined that the child she carried was of his spirit. Any man could fancy that any pregnant woman was carrying the child of his spirit, and most of them occasionally wondered if a particular woman might be, but Brukeval's dream was an obsession. He would sometimes lie awake at night envisioning an entire life with Ayla, most of it mimicking what he surreptitiously saw her doing with Jondalar, but when confronted by her on the path, he didn't know what to say. There was no way to avoid her now.

"Brukeval," she said, attempting to smile. "I've been wanting to talk to you."

"Well, here we are," he said.

She hurried ahead. "I just wanted you to know that I didn't mean to insult you at that meeting. Jondalar told me that you were teased before about flatheads, until you made people stop. I admire the fact that you stood up for yourself and made people stop calling you that. You are not a flathead… one of the Clan. No one should ever have called you that. You couldn't begin to live with them. You are one of the Others just like all the Zelandonii. That's how they would see you."

His expression seemed to soften. "I'm glad you recognize that," he said.

"But you must realize, to me, they are people," she hurried on. "They couldn't be animals. I have never thought of them any other way. They found me alone and injured, and they took me in and cared for me, raised me. I wouldn't be alive today if it wasn't for them. I find them to be admirable people. I didn't realize you would consider it an insult to suggest that your grandmother may have lived with them when she was lost and gone for so long, that they might have taken care of her, too."

"Well, I guess you couldn't know," he said, smiling.

She smiled back, feeling relieved, and tried to make her explanation more clear. "It's just that you remind me of some people that I care about. That's why I was drawn to you from the beginning.

There was a little boy I knew, who I loved, and you remind me of him…"

"Wait! Are you still saying that you think they are a part of me? I thought you said that I was not a flathead," Brukeval said.

"You aren't. Not even Echozar is. Just because his mother was Clan doesn't mean that he is. He wasn't raised by them, and you weren't, either…"

"But you still think my mother was an abomination. I told you, she was not! Neither my mother nor my grandmother had anything to do with them. None of those dirty animals had anything to do with me, do you hear me?" He was shouting and his face had turned an angry red. "I am not a flathead! Just because you were raised by those animals, don't think you can drag me down."

Wolf was growling at the excited man, ready to spring to Ayla's defense. The man looked as if he might want to hurt her. "Wolf! No!" she commanded. She had done it again. Why couldn't she have stopped when he was smiling? But he didn't have to call her Clan "dirty animals," because they weren't.