THE SHELTERS OF STONE

She turned to Jondalar. "Let's go. I'm tired," she said under her breath in Mamutoi, and realized that she really was-exhausted, in fact. They had just completed a long, hard Journey, and so much had happened, it was hard to believe they had arrived only that day. There had been the anxiety of meeting Jondalar's family and the sadness of telling them about Thonolan's death; the unpleasantness of Marona's joke as well as the excitement of meeting all the people of this large Cave; and now Brukeval. It was too much.

Jondalar could see that the incident between Brukeval and Charezal had distressed her, and he had some idea why. "It has been a long day," he said. "I think it's time for us to go."

Brukeval seemed upset that they were leaving so soon after he had finally gotten up courage to talk to her. He smiled hesitantly. "Do you have to go?" he asked.

"It's late. Many people have already gone to bed, and I am tired," she said, smiling back at him. Without that malevolent expression, she could smile at him, but it lacked the earlier warmth. They said good night to the people nearby, but when she looked back, she noticed Brukeval glaring again at Charezal.

As she and Jondalar walked back toward the dwellings and Marthona's place, Ayla asked, "Did you see the way your cousin was looking at Charezal? It was filled with hate."

"I can't say I blame him for being upset at Charezal," he said. Jondalar had not exactly warmed to the man, either. "You know it's a terrible insult to call someone a flathead, and even worse to say someone's mother is one. Brukeval has been teased before, especially when he was young-children can be cruel."

Jondalar went on to explain that when Brukeval was a child, whenever someone had wanted to tease him, they called him "flat-head." Though he lacked that specific characteristic of the Clan that had given rise to the epithet-the sloped-back forehead-it was the one word that was all but guaranteed to make him react with fury. And to the young orphan who had hardly known her, it was worse to refer to his mother in a way that meant the most despicable kind of abomination imaginable, half animal, half human.

Because of his predictable emotional response, with the casual cruelty of children, those who were bigger or older often teased him by calling him "flathead" or "son of an abomination" when he was young. But as he grew older, what he lacked in stature, he made up for in strength. After a few battles with boys who, though taller than him, were no match for his phenomenal muscular power, especially coupled with untempered rage, they stopped the hated taunts, at least to his face.

"I don't know why it should bother people so much, but it's probably true," Ayla said. "I think he is part Clan. He reminds me of Echozar, but Brukeval has less Clan. You can see it is not as strong-except for that look. That reminded me of the way Broud looked at me."

"I'm not so sure he's a mixture. Maybe some ancestor came from a distant place and it's only chance that he bears some superficial resemblance to f… Clan people," Jondalar said.

"He's your cousin, what do you know about him?"

"I don't really know much for sure, but I can tell you what I've heard," Jondalar said. "Some of the older people say that when Brukeval's grandmother was barely a young woman, she somehow got separated from her people while traveling to a Summer Meeting that was quite far away. She was supposed to have her First Rites at that meeting. By the time she was found it was the end of summer. They say she was irrational, hardly even coherent. She claimed she had been attacked by animals. They say she was never quite right again, but she didn't live long. Not long after she returned, it was discovered she had been blessed by the Mother, even though she had never had First Rites. She died shortly after giving birth to Brukeval's mother, or perhaps as the result of it."

"Where do they think she was?"

"No one knows."

Ayla frowned in thought. "She must have found food and shelter while she was gone," she said.

"I don't think she was starving," he said.

"The animals that attacked her, did she say what kind they were?"

"Not that I've heard."

"Did she have any scratch or bite marks or other injuries?" Ayla continued.

"I don't know."

Ayla stopped as they were approaching the area of the dwellings and looked at the tall man in the dim light of the crescent moon and the distant fire. "Don't the Zelandonii call the Clan animals? Did his grandmother ever say anything about the ones you call flatheads?"

"They do say she hated flatheads, and would run away screaming at the sight of one," Jondalar said.

"What about Brukeval's mother? Did you know her? What did she look like?"

"I don't recall much, I was pretty young," Jondalar said. "She was short. I remember that she had big, beautiful eyes, dark like Brukeval's, brownish, but not really dark brown, more hazel. People used to say her eyes were her best feature."

"Brownish, like Guban's eyes?" Ayla asked.