THE SHELTERS OF STONE

"I've named our daughter Jonayla, after both you and me, Jondalar, because she came from both of us. She is your daughter, too."

"Jonayla. I like that name. Jonayla," he said.

Marthona liked the name, too. She and Proleva smiled indulgently at Ayla. It was not uncommon for new mothers to try to reassure their mates that their children came from their spirits. Although Ayla had not said "spirit," they were sure they understood what she meant. Zelandoni wasn't as sure. Ayla tended to say exactly what she meant. Jondalar had no doubt. He knew exactly what she meant.

It would be nice if it was true, he thought as he looked at the tiny little girl. Exposed to the cool air without her covers, she was beginning to wake up.

"She is beautiful. She's going to look just like you, Ayla. I can see it already," he said.

"She looks like you, too, Jondalar. Would you like to hold her?"

"I don't know," he said, backing off a bit. "She's so small."

"Not too small for you to hold, Jondalar," Zelandoni said. "Here, I'll help you. Sit down comfortably." She quickly wrapped the baby back up in her blanket, picked her up, and placed her in Jondalar's arms, showing him how to hold her.

The infant had her eyes open and seemed to be looking at him. Are you my daughter? he wondered. You are so tiny, you will need someone to watch over you, and help take care of you until you grow up. He held her a little closer, feeling protective. Then, to his surprise, he felt a sudden and completely unexpected flush of warmth and a protective love for the infant. Jonayla, he thought. My daughter, Jonayla.

The next day Zelandoni stopped to see Ayla. She had been waiting and watching for a time when she was alone. Ayla was sitting on a cushion on the floor, nursing her baby, and Zelandoni lowered herself to a cushion on the floor beside her.

"Why don't you use the stool, Zelandoni," Ayla said.

"This is fine, Ayla. It isn't that I can't sit on the floor, it's just that there are times when I prefer not to. How is Jonayla?"

"She's fine. She's a good baby. She woke me up last night, but she sleeps most of the time," Ayla said.

"I wanted to tell you that she will be named as a Zelandonii to Jondalar's hearth on the day after next, and her name given to the Cave," the woman said.

"Good," Ayla said. "I'll be glad when she's Zelandonii, and named to Jondalar's hearth. It will make everything complete."

"Have you heard about Relona? The mate of Shevonar, the man who was trampled on by the bison shortly after you arrived?" Zelandoni asked, sounding as though she were making friendly conversation.

"No, what about her?"

"She and Ranokol, Shevonar's brother, are going to mate next summer. He started out by helping her to compensate for the loss of her mate, and then they grew to care for each other. I think it may be a good pairing," the older woman said.

"I'm glad to hear that. He was so upset when Shevonar died. It was almost as though he blamed himself. I think he thought he should have died instead," Ayla said. There was a silence then, but she felt a sense of expectancy. She wondered if the First had come for a reason that she hadn't yet said.

"There is something else I want to talk to you about," Zelandoni said. "I'd like to know more about your son. I understand why you never mentioned him, especially after all that trouble about Echozar, but if you wouldn't mind talking about him, there are some things I would like to know."

"I don't mind talking about him. Sometimes I ache to talk about him," Ayla said.

She talked at length to the donier about the son she had when she lived with the Clan, the one of mixed spirits, about her morning sickness that lasted all day and almost for her entire pregnancy, and about her bone-wrenching delivery. She had already forgotten whatever discomfort she had felt giving birth to Jonayla, but she still remembered the pain of giving birth to Durc. She told her about his deformity in the eyes of the Clan, her flight to her small cave to save his life, and her return though she thought she would still lose him. She spoke of her joy at his acceptance, and the name Creb picked out for him, Durc, and the legend of Durc, where his name came from. She talked about their life together, his laughter and her delight that he could make sounds the way she could, and the language they started to make up together, and she talked about leaving him behind with the Clan when she was forced to go. Toward the end of her story, she was finding it difficult to talk for the tears.

"Zelandoni," Ayla said, looking at the large, motherly woman, "I had an idea when I was hiding in the small cave with him, and the more I have thought about it since, the more I believe it is true. It's about the way life begins. I don't think it is the blending of spirits that starts new life. I think life begins when a man and a woman couple. I think men start life to grow inside women."