The Clan of the Cave Bear

17

«Ayla? Is it really Ayla, Creb? It's not her spirit?» Iza motioned as the old man led the snow-covered girl back to his hearth. She was afraid to believe it, afraid the very reallooking girl would turn out to be a mirage.

«It's Ayla,» Creb gestured. «It's past the time. She has overcome the evil spirits; she has returned to us.»

«Ayla!» Iza ran to her, arms open wide, and enfolded the girl in a fierce loving embrace, wet snow and all. Not only snow made them wet. Ayla cried enough tears of joy for all of them. Uba tugged at the girl as she was clenched in Iza's arms.

«Ayla. Ayla come back. Uba know Ayla not dead!» the child asserted with the conviction of one who knew she was right all along. Ayla picked her up and held her so tight, Uba squirmed to get loose and catch her breath.

«You wet!» Uba motioned when she could get her arms free.

«Ayla, take off those wet clothes!» Iza said, and bustled around adding wood to the fire and finding something for the girl to wear, as much to cover the intensity of her emotions as to express maternal concern. «You'll catch your death of cold.» Iza glanced at the girl with embarrassment, suddenly realizing what she had said.

The girl smiled.

«You're right, mother. I will catch cold,» she gestured, and removed her wrap and hood. She sat down and began struggling to loosen the wet, swollen bindings of her footwear.

«I'm starved. Is there anything to eat? I haven't eaten all day,» she said after she had put on one of Iza's old wraps. It was a little small and too short, but it was dry. «I would have been back earlier, but I got caught in an avalanche coming down the mountain. I was lucky I didn't get buried under too much snow, but it took a long time to dig my way out.»

Iza's amazement lasted only a moment. Ayla could have said she walked through fire to return and Iza would have believed it. Her return itself was proof enough of her invincibility. What could one little avalanche do to her? The woman reached for Ayla's fur to hang it up to dry, but pulled her hand back suddenly, eyeing the unfamiliar deer hide suspiciously.

«Where did you get this wrap, Ayla?» she asked.

«I made it.»

«Is it…is it of this world?» the woman inquired apprehensively. Ayla smiled again.

«Very much of this world. Did you forget? I know how to hunt.» «Don't say that, Ayla!» Iza said nervously. She turned her back so the clan she knew was watching wouldn't see, and gestured inconspicuously. «You don't have a sling, do you?»

«No, I left it behind. But that doesn't change anything. Everyone knows it, Iza. I had to do something after Creb burned everything. The only way to get a wrap is to hunt.

Fur doesn't grow on willows, or fir, either.»

Creb had been watching silently, hardly daring to believe she was really back.

There were stories of people returning after a death curse, but he still didn't believe it was possible. There's something different about her; she's changed. She's more confident, more grown up. No wonder, after what she's been through. She remembers, too. She knows I burned her things. I wonder what else she remembers? What is it like in the world of the spirits?

«Spirits!» he motioned, suddenly remembering. The bones are still set! I must go break the curse.

Creb hurried away to break the pattern of cave bear bones still set in the form of a death curse. He snatched the torch burning outside the crack in the wall and went in, and gaped in surprise when he came to the small room beyond the short passage. The skull of the cave bear had moved, the long bone no longer protruded through the eye socket, the pattern was already broken.

Many small rodents shared the cave of the clan, drawn by the stored food and warmth. One of them had likely brushed past or jumped on the skull, tipping it over. Creb shuddered slightly, made a sign of protection, then moved the bones back to the pile at the far end. As he walked out, he saw Brun waiting for him.

«Brun,» Mog-ur gestured when he saw the man. «I can't believe it. You know I haven't been in here since I laid the curse. No one has. I just went in to break it, but it was already broken.» His expression held a look of wonder and awe.

«What do you think happened?»

«It must have been her totem. It's past the time; maybe he broke it so she could return,» the magician answered.

«You must be right.» The leader started to make another motion, then hesitated.

«Did you want to speak to me, Brun?»

«I want to talk to you alone.» He hesitated again. «Excuse my intrusion. I looked into your hearth. The girl's return was a surprise.»

Every member of the clan had broken the custom of averting eyes to avoid looking into another's hearth. They couldn't help it. They had never seen someone who had returned from the dead before.

«It's understandable, under the circumstances. You don't have to be concerned,» Mog-ur replied and started to move on.

«That's not what I wanted to see you about,» Brun said, putting out a hand to detain the old magician. «I want to ask you about ceremonies.» Mog-ur waited expectantly, watching Brun grope for words. «A ceremony now that she's back.» «No ceremonies are necessary, the danger is over. The evil ones are gone, there's no need for protection.»

«I don't mean that kind of ceremony.»

«What kind do you mean?»

Brun hesitated again, then started in a new direction. «I watched her talking to you and Iza. Do you notice a difference in her, Mog-ur?»

«What do you mean, a difference?» Mog-ur signaled warily, unsure of Brun's intent.

«She has a strong totem; Droog always said she was lucky. He thinks her totem brings us luck, too. He might be right. She would never have come back without luck and strong protection. I think she knows it, now. That's what I meant by different.» «Yes, I think I noticed a difference like that. But I still don't understand what it has to do with ceremonies.»

«Remember the meeting we had after the mammoth hunt?»

«You mean when you were questioning her?»

«No, the one after, without her. I've been thinking about that meeting ever since she left. I didn't think she would come back, but I knew if she did, it would mean her totem is very strong, even more powerful than we thought. I've been thinking about what we should do if she did come back.»

«What we should do? There's nothing we have to do. The evil spirits are gone, Brun. She's back, but she's no different than she always was. She's just a girl, nothing has changed.»

«But what if I want to change something? Is there a ceremony for that?» Mog-ur was puzzled. «A ceremony for what? You don't need a ceremony to change the way you act toward her. What kind of change? I can't tell you about ceremonies if I don't know what they're for.»

«Her totem is a clan totem, too, isn't it? Shouldn't we try to keep all the totems happy? I want you to hold a ceremony, Mog-ur, but you have to tell me if there is such a ceremony.»

«Brun, you're not making sense.»

Brun threw up his hands, abandoning his attempt to communicate. While Ayla was gone, he'd had the time to mull over the many new ideas some of the men had put forth. But the disconcerting result of his musings intruded uncomfortably into the clan leader's mind.

«The whole thing doesn't make sense, how can I make sense out of it? Whoever expected her to come back, anyway? I don't understand spirits, I never have. I don't know what they want, that's what you're here for. But you're not much help! The whole idea is ridiculous anyway. I'd better think about it again.»

Brun turned on his heel and stalked off, leaving behind a very confused magician.

He turned back after a few steps.

«Tell the girl I want to see her,» he signaled and continued on to his hearth.

Creb shook his head as he returned to his own hearth. «Brun wants to see Ayla,» he announced when he got back.

«Did he say he wanted to see her right away?» Iza asked, pushing more food in front of her. «He won't mind if she finishes eating, will he?» «I'm through, mother. I can't eat another bite. I'll go now.» Ayla walked to the next hearth and sat at the feet of the leader of the clan with her head bowed. He had on the same foot coverings that were worn and creased in the same places. The last time she had looked at those feet, she was terrified. She was no longer terrified. To her surprise, she didn't fear Brun at all, but she respected him more. She waited. It seemed to be taking an extraordinarily long time for him to acknowledge her.

Finally, she felt a tap on her shoulder and looked up.

«I see you're back, Ayla,» he began lamely. He didn't quite know what to say.

«Yes, Brun.»

«I'm surprised to see you. I didn't expect it.»

«This girl did not expect to be back, either.»

Brun was at a loss. He wanted to talk to her, but he didn't know what to say, and he didn't know how to end the audience he had requested. Ayla waited, then made a gesture of request.

«This girl would speak, Brun.»

«You may speak.»

She hesitated, trying to find the right expression to say what she wanted to say.

«This girl is glad to be back, Brun. More than once I was frightened, more than once I was sure I would never return.»

Brun grunted. I'm sure of that, he thought.

«It was difficult, but I think my totem protected me. At first, there was so much work to do, I didn't have much time to think. But after I was trapped, I didn't have much else to do.»

Work? Trapped? What kind of world is the spirit world? Brun almost asked her, then changed his mind. He didn't really want to know.

«I think I began to understand something then.»

Ayla stopped, still groping. She wanted to express a feeling that was akin to gratitude, but not the way gratitude was normally felt, not gratitude that carried a sense of obligation or the kind a woman usually expressed to a man. She wanted to say something to him as a person, she wanted to tell him she understood. She wanted to say thank you, thank you for giving me a chance, but she didn't quite know how.

«Brun, this girl is…is grateful to you. You said that to me. You said you were grateful for Brac's life. I am grateful to you for my own.»

Brun leaned back and studied the girl-tall, flat-faced, blue-eyed. The last thing he expected was her gratitude. He had cursed her. But she didn't say she was grateful for the death curse, he thought, she said she was grateful for her life. Did she understand he had no choice? Did she understand he had given her the only chance he could? Did this strange girl understand that more than his hunters, more even than Mog-ur? Yes, he decided, she does understand. For an instant, Brun had a feeling toward Ayla he'd never before had toward a woman. At that moment, he wished she were a man. He didn't have to think any more about what he wanted to ask Mog-ur. He knew.

«I don't know what they're planning, I don't think the rest of the hunters even know,» Ebra was saying. «All I know is I've never seen Brun so nervous.»

The women were sitting together preparing food for a feast. They didn't know the reason for the feast-Brun just told them to prepare a feast that night-and they plied Iza and Ebra with questions trying to get some hint.

«Mog-ur has been spending all day and half the night in the place of the spirits. It must be a ceremony. While Ayla was gone, he wouldn't go near it; now he hardly ever comes out,» Iza commented. «When he does, he's so absentminded he forgets to eat. Sometimes he forgets to eat while he's eating.»

«But if they're having a ceremony, why did Brun work half a day clearing out a space in back of the cave?» Ebra motioned. «When I offered to do it, he chased me away.

They have their place for ceremonies; why would he work like a woman clearing out the back?»

«What else could it be?» Iza asked. «Seems like every time I look, Brun and Mogur have their heads together. And if they notice me, they stop talking and have guilty looks on their faces. What else could those two be planning? And why are we having a feast tonight? Mog-ur's been back in that space Brun cleared out all day. Sometimes he goes into the place of the spirits, but he comes right back out again. It looks like he's carrying something, but it's so dark back there I can't tell.» Ayla was just enjoying the companionship. After five days, it was still hard for her to believe she was back in the cave of the clan sitting with the women preparing food just as though she had never been away. It wasn't exactly the same. The women were not entirely comfortable around her. They thought she had been dead; her return to life was nothing less than miraculous. They didn't know what to say to someone who had gone to the world of the spirits and returned. Ayla didn't mind, she was just glad to be back. She watched Brac toddling up to his mother to nurse.

«How's Brac's arm, Oga?» she asked the young mother sifting beside her.

«See for yourself, Ayla.» She opened his wrap and showed Ayla his arm and shoulder. «Iza took the cast off the day before you came back. His arm is just fine, except a little thinner than the other one. Iza says once he starts using it again, it will get stronger.»

Ayla looked at the healed wounds and felt the bone gently while the sober, bigeyed boy stared at her. The women had been careful to steer away from subjects that were remotely connected with Ayla's curse. Often someone would begin a conversation, then drop her hands in midsentence seeing where it was leading. It tended to stifle the warm communication that was usual when the women gathered together to work.

«The scars are still red, but they should fade in time,» Ayla said, then looked at the child. «Are you strong, Brac?» He nodded. «Show me how strong. Can you pull my arm down?» She held out her forearm. «No, not with that hand, the other one,» she corrected when he reached up with the uninjured arm. Brac changed hands and pulled against her arm. Ayla resisted just enough to feel the strength of his pull, then let her arm be lowered. «You are a strong boy, Brac. Someday you will be a brave hunter, just like Broud.»

She held out her arms to see if he would come to her. At first he turned away, then changed his mind and allowed Ayla to pick him up. She held him up in the air, then cuddled him in her lap. «Brac is a big boy. So heavy, so sturdy.» He stayed there comfortably for a few moments, but when he discovered she had nothing to feed him with, he squirmed to get back to his mother, reached for her breast, and began to nurse, staring at Ayla with big, round eyes.

«You're so lucky, Oga. He's a wonderful baby.»

«I wouldn't be so lucky if it wasn't for you, Ayla.» Oga had finally broached the subject they had painstakingly avoided. «I never told you how grateful I am. First I was too worried about him, and I didn't know what to say. You didn't seem to want to talk much, either, and then you were gone. I still don't know what to say. I never expected to see you again; it's hard to believe you're back. It was wrong for you to touch a weapon, and I can't understand why you wanted to hunt, but I'm glad you did. I can't tell you how much. I felt so awful when you were…when you had to go, but I'm happy you're back.» «I am too,» Ebra added. The other women nodded in agreement.

Ayla was overwhelmed by their unconditional acceptance of her and struggled to control tears that wanted to flow much too easily. She was afraid the women would be uncomfortable if her eyes watered.

«I'm glad to be back,» she motioned, and the tears escaped her control. Iza now knew her eyes watered when she felt strongly about something, not because she was sick.

The women, too, had grown accustomed to that peculiarity of hers and had come to know the meaning of her tears. They only nodded with understanding.

«How was it, Ayla?» Oga asked, her eyes full of troubled compassion. Ayla thought for a moment.

«Lonely,» she answered. «Very lonely. I missed everyone so much.» The women's eyes held such pity, Ayla had to say something to change the mood. «I even missed Broud,» she added.

«Hhmmf,» Aga said. «That was pretty lonely.» Then she glanced at Oga, a little embarrassed.

«I know he can be difficult,» Oga admitted. «But Broud is my mate, and he's not so bad to me.»

«No, don't apologize for him, Oga,» Ayla said gently. «Everyone knows Broud cares for you. You should be proud to be his mate. He's going to be leader, and he's a brave hunter, he was even the first to wound the mammoth. You can't help it if he doesn't like me. Some of it is my fault; I haven't always behaved as I should to him. I don't know how it started and I don't know how to end it; I would if I could, but that's not anything you should worry about.»

«He always did have a temper,» Ebra commented. «He's not like Brun. I knew Mog-ur was right when he said Broud's totem was the Woolly Rhinoceros. I think in some ways you helped him to control his temper, Ayla. It will make him a better leader.» «I don't know,» Ayla shook her head. «If I wasn't around, I don't think he'd lose it so much. I think I bring out the worst in him.»

A strained silence followed. Women did not ordinarily discuss the real failings of their men so openly, but the discussion had cleared the air of tension around the girl. Iza wisely decided it was time to drop the subject.

«Does anyone know where the yams are?» she motioned. «I think they were in the place Brun cleared out,» Ebra answered. «We may not find them until next summer.» Broud noticed Ayla sitting with the women and frowned when he saw her examine Brac and hold him in her lap. It made him remember it was she who had saved the boy's life, and that reminded him that she had been witness to his humiliation. Broud had been as overwhelmed by her return as the rest of them. The first day he viewed her with awe, and some apprehension. But the change that Creb had interpreted as growing maturity, and Brun had seen as her sense of her own luck, Broud took as flagrant insolence. During her trial by snow, Ayla had gained not only the confidence that she could survive, but a serene acceptance of life's noisome trivialities. After her ordeal, with its life-and-death struggles, nothing as insignificant as a reprimand, whose effectiveness had long since worn thin from overuse, could ruffle her placid composure.

Ayla had missed Broud. In her utter isolation, even his harassment would have, been preferable to the stark emptiness of total invisibility to people who loved her. The first few days, she positively relished his close, if abusive, attention. He not only saw her, he saw every move she made.

By the third day of her return, old patterns reestablished themselves but with a difference. Ayla didn't have to fight herself to bend to his will, her response didn't even have the undercurrent of subtle condescension. She was genuinely unmoved. He could do nothing to disturb her. He could cuff and curse and work himself up to the edge of explosive violence. It had absolutely no effect. She patiently acquiesced to his most unreasonable demands. Though it was unintentional, Ayla was giving Broud a small measure of the ostracism she had been dealt in such abundance. She excluded him from her responses. His most towering rage, controlled only by supreme expenditures of effort, was met with no more reaction than the bite of a flea; less, for a fleabite is at least scratched. It was the worst thing she could do, she infuriated him.

Broud craved attention, he thrived on it. For him, it was a necessity. Nothing drove him to greater heights of frustration than someone who failed to react to him. It mattered little, in the depths of his being, whether the reaction was positive or negative, but there had to be one. He was sure her indifference was because she had seen him belittled, witnessed his disgrace, had no respect for his authority. He was partly right. She knew the outer limits of his control over her, had tested the mettle of his inner strength, and found them both insufficient to gain her respect. But it wasn't only that she didn't respect him and didn't respond to him, she usurped the attention he wanted.

By her very appearance she drew attention to herself, and everything about her drew attention: her powerful totem; sharing the hearth, and the love, of the formidable magician; training to become a medicine woman; saving Ona's life; her skill with the sling; killing the hyena that saved Brac's life; and now, returning from the world of the spirits. Every time Broud had exhibited great courage and rightfully deserved the admiration, respect, and attention of the clan, she upstaged him.

Broud glowered at the girl from a distance. Why did she have to come back? Everybody is talking about her; they're always talking about her. When I killed the bison and became a man, everybody talked about her stupid totem. Did she stand up to a charging mammoth? Did she almost get trampled to cut the tendons? No. All she did was throw a couple of stones with a sling, and all they could think about was her. Brun and his meetings, all about her. And then he couldn't do it right, and now she's back again and they're all talking about her. Why does she always have to spoil everything?

«Creb, why are you so fidgety? I can't ever remember seeing you so nervous. You act like a young man about to take his first mate. Do you want me to make a cup of tea to settle your nerves?» Iza asked, after the magician jumped up for the third time, started to leave the hearth, changed his mind, and went back and sat down again.

«What makes you think I'm nervous? I'm just trying to remember everything and meditate a little,» he said sheepishly.

«What do you need to remember? You've been Mog-ur for years, Creb. There can't be a single ceremony you couldn't do in your sleep. And I've never seen you meditate by jumping up' and down. Why don't you let me fix you a little tea?» «No. No. I don't need any tea. Where's Ayla?»

«She's over there, just beyond the last hearth looking for yams. Why?» «I just wanted to know,» Creb replied as he settled back down. Not long afterward, Brun walked by and signaled Mog-ur. The magician got up again and both men walked to the rear of the cave. What can be wrong with those two? Iza shook her head in wonder.

«Isn't it nearly time?» the leader asked when they reached the place he had cleared out. «Is everything ready?»

«All the preparations are made, but the sun should be lower, I think.» «You think! Don't you know? I thought you said you knew what to do. I thought you said you meditated and found a ceremony. Everything must be absolutely right. How can you say 'you think'?» Brun snapped.

«I did meditate,» Mog-ur countered defensively. «But it was long ago, a different place. There wasn't any snow. I don't think there was snow even in winter. It's not easy to get the time right. I just know the sun was low.»

«You didn't tell me that! How can you be sure it will be right? Maybe we'd better forget it. It's a ridiculous idea anyway.»

«I've already talked to the spirits; the stones are in place. They're expecting us.» «I don't like the idea of moving the stones, either. Maybe we should've decided to have it in the place of the spirits. Are you sure they won't be upset because we moved them from the small cave, Mog-ur?»

«We already discussed that, Brun. We decided it was better to move the stones than to bring the Ancient Ones to the Totems' place of the spirits. The old ones might not want to leave again if they see it.»

«How do you know they'll go back once we wake them up? It's too dangerous, Mog-ur. We'd better call it off.»

«They may stay for a while,» Mog-ur conceded. «But after everything is put back and they see there is no place for them, they'll leave. The totems will tell them to go. But it's up to you. if you want to change your mind, I'll try to placate the spirits. Just because they're expecting a ceremony doesn't mean we have to have one.» «No. You're right. We'd better go ahead with it now. They're expecting something.

The men may not be too happy about it, though.»

«Who is leader, Brun? Besides, they'll get used to it once they understand it's all right.»

«Is it, Mog-ur? Is it really? It's been so long. It's not the men I'm thinking about now. Will our totems accept it? We've been. so lucky, almost too lucky. I keep thinking something terrible is going to happen. I don't want to do anything to upset them. I want to do what they want. I want to keep them happy.»

«That's what we're doing, Brun,» Mog-ur said gently, «trying to do what they want. All of them.»

«But are you sure the others will understand? If we please one, won't the others feel slighted?»

«No, Brun, I'm not sure they will.» The magician could feel the leader's worry and tension. He knew how difficult it was for him. «No one can be absolutely sure. We are only human. Even a mog-ur is only human. We can only try. But you said it yourself, we've been lucky. That must mean the spirits of all the totems are happy. If they were fighting with each other, do you think we'd have been so lucky? How often does a clan kill a mammoth without anyone getting hurt? Anything could have gone wrong. You could have traveled all that way and not found a herd, and some of the best hunting time would have been wasted. You took a chance, but it worked. Even Brac is still alive, Brun.»

The leader looked at the serious face of the magician. Then he stood up straighter, and firm resolution replaced the indecision in Brun's eyes.

«I'll go get the men,» he gestured.

The women had been told to stay away from the back of the cave, not even to look in that direction, Iza noticed Brun get the men, but she ignored it. Whatever they were doing was their business. She wasn't sure what made her glance up just as two men, faces painted red with ochre, rushed toward Ayla. Iza felt herself tremble. What could they possibly want with Ayla?

The girl hadn't even noticed the men going with Brun. She was rummaging through baskets and stiff rawhide containers piled in disordered confusion behind the hearth farthest from the mouth of the cave, looking for yams. When she saw the redpainted face of the leader suddenly appear in front of her, she gasped with surprise.

«Do not resist. Do not make a sound,» Brun signaled.

She didn't become frightened until she felt the blindfold, but she was petrified when they nearly lifted her off the ground as they dragged her away.

The men were apprehensive when they saw Brun and Goov bringing the girl.

They knew no more than the women of the reason for the ceremony Brun and Mog-ur were planning, but unlike them, the men knew their curiosity would eventually be satisfied. Mog-ur had only warned them not to make a single gesture or sound after they seated themselves in a circle behind the stones brought out from the small cave, but the warning gained force when he passed out two long cave bear bones to each man to be held crossed like an x in front of him. The danger must be great indeed if they needed such extreme protection. They began to get an inkling of the danger when they saw Ayla.

Brun forced the female to sit in the open space in the circle directly opposite Mog-ur, and sat down behind the girl. At the magician's signal, Brun removed her blindfold. Ayla blinked to clear her vision. In the light from the torches, she could see Mog-ur seated behind a cave bear skull and the men holding the crossed bones, and she huddled down with fear, trying to sink lower into the ground.

What have I done? I haven't touched a sling, she thought, trying to remember if she had committed some terrible crime that would supply a reason for her being there.

She couldn't think of a thing she had done wrong.

«Do not move. Do not make a sound,» Mog-ur warned again.

She didn't think she could if she wanted to. Wide-eyed, she watched the magician pull himself up, lay his staff down, and begin the formal motions entreating Ursus and the totemic spirits to watch over them. Many of the gestures were unfamiliar to her, but she stared in rapt attention, not so much for the meaning of the symbols Mog-ur was making as for the old magician himself.

She knew Creb, knew him well, a crippled old man who hobbled awkwardly when he moved, leaning heavily on his staff. He was a lopsided caricature of a man, one side of his body stunted, muscles atrophied with disuse, the other side overdeveloped to make up for the paralysis that forced him to depend on it so heavily. In the past she had noticed his graceful motions when he used the formal language for public ceremonies- abbreviated by the absence of one arm, yet in some indefinable way fraught with subtleties and complexities, and fuller in meaning. But the motions of the man standing behind the skull showed a side of the magician she never knew existed.

Gone was the awkwardness. In its place were hypnotically powerful rhythms of motion flowing smoothly, compelling the eyes to look. The movement of hand and subtle posture was not a graceful dance, for all it appeared to be; Mog-ur was an orator speaking with a persuasive force Ayla had never seen; and the great holy man was never so expressive as he was when addressing the unseen audience more real to him, at times, than the humans seated before him. The Mog-ur of the Clan of the Cave Bear poured forth even greater efforts when he began to direct his attention to the incredibly venerable spirits he wished to call to this unique ceremony.

«Most Ancient Spirits, Spirits we have not invoked since the early mists of our beginnings, heed us sow. We call upon you, we would pay homage to you, and we would ask for your assistance and your protection. Great Spirits, so venerable your names are but a whisper of memory, awake from your deep sleep and let us honor you. We have an offering, a sacrifice to placate your ancient hearts; we need your sanction. Heed us as we call your names.

«Spirit of Wind. Oooha!» Ayla felt a chill up her spine as Mog-ur spoke the name aloud. «Spirit of Rain. Zheena! Spirit of Mists. Eeesha! Attend us! Look upon us with favor. We have one of your own with us, one who has walked with your shades and returned, returned at the wish of the Great Cave Lion.»

He's talking about me, Ayla suddenly realized. This is a ceremony. What am I doing at a ceremony? Who are those spirits? I never heard them mentioned before. The names are female names; I thought all protective spirits were male. Ayla was quaking with fear, yet intrigued. The men sitting like the stones in front of them had never heard of the ancient spirits, either, until Mog-ur called their names, yet they were not unfamiliar. Hearing the ancient names stirred an equally ancient memory stored in the deep recesses of their minds.

«Most Honored Ones of Old, the ways of the Spirits are a mystery to us, we are only human, we do not know why this female was chosen by one so powerful, we do not know why he has led her to your ancient ways, but we may not deny him. He fought for her in the shadowed land, defeated the evil ones, and returned her to us to make his wishes clear, to make it known we may not deny him. O Powerful Spirits of the Past, your ways are no longer the ways of the Clan, yet once they were and must be again for this one who sits with us. We entreat you, Ancient Spirits, sanctify her to your ways.

Accept her. Protect her and give your protection to her clan.» Mog-ur turned to Ayla.

«Bring the female forward,» he commanded.

Ayla felt herself lifted bodily from the ground by Brun's strong arms and moved forward until she stood in front of the old magician. She gasped as Brun grabbed a handful of her long blonde hair and yanked her head back. From the bottom of her eyes, she saw Mog-ur take a sharp knife from his pouch and lift it high above his head.

Terrified, she watched the face of the one-eyed man loom closer, knife raised, and nearly fainted when she saw him bring the sharp edge down quickly to her bared throat.

She felt a sharp pain, yet was too frightened to cry out. But Mog-ur only made a small nick in the hollow at the base of her throat. The trickle of warm blood was quickly absorbed by a small square of soft rabbit skin. He waited until the square was soaked with her blood, then wiped the cut with a stinging liquid from a bowl held by Goov. Then Brun released her.

Fascinated, she watched Mog-ur put the blood-soaked square into a shallow stone bowl partially filled with oil. The magician was handed a small torch by his acolyte, and with it he set fire to the oil in the bowl and watched silently as the skin burned to a charred crisp with a sharp, acrid smell. When it was burned out, Brun moved aside her wrap and exposed her left thigh. Mog-ur dipped his finger in the residue left in the stone bowl and drew a black line over each of the four lines that scarred her leg. She stared at it in wonder. It looked like a totem mark, cut and stained black during the ceremony that marked a boy's passage into manhood. She felt herself being moved back, and watched Mog-ur address the spirits again.

«Accept this sacrifice of blood, Most Venerable Spirits, and know it is her totem, the Spirit of the Cave Lion, that chose her to follow your ancient ways. Know that we have shown you honor, know that we have paid you homage. Give us your favor and return to your deep rest, content that your ways are not forgotten.» It's over, Ayla thought, breathing a sigh of relief as Mog-ur sat down again. She still didn't know why she was made to participate in the unusual ceremony. But they weren't through with her yet. Brun moved around in front of her and motioned to her to stand. Quickly, she scrambled to her feet. He reached into a fold of his wrap and withdrew a small, red-stained oval of ivory sawed from near the tip of a mammoth tusk.

«Ayla, this one time alone, while we are under the protection of the Most Ancient Spirits, you stand as an equal with the men.» She wasn't sure she understood the leader correctly. «Once you leave this place, you must never again think of yourself as an equal.

You are female, you will always be female.»

Ayla was nodding her head in agreement. Of course, she knew she was female, but she was puzzled.

«This ivory is from the tusk of the mammoth we killed. It was a very lucky hunt; no man was hurt, yet we brought down the great beast. This piece has been sanctified by Ursus, colored the sacred red by Mog-ur, and is a powerful hunting talisman. Every hunter of the clan carries one like it in his amulet, and every hunter must have one.

«Ayla, no boy becomes adult until he makes his first kill, but once he has, he cannot be a child. Long ago, during the time of the Spirits that still hover near, women of the Clan hunted. We don't know why your totem has led you to follow that ancient path, but we cannot deny the Spirit of the Cave Lion; it must be allowed. Ayla, you have made your first kill; you must now assume the responsibilities of an adult. But you are a woman, not a man, and you will be a woman always, in all ways but one. You may use only a sling, Ayla, but you are now the Woman Who Hunts.» Ayla felt a sudden rush of blood rise to her face. Could it be true? Had she really understood Brun? For using a sling, she had just been through an ordeal she didn't think she would survive; now she was going to be allowed to use it? Allowed to hunt? Openly?

She could hardly believe it.

«This talisman is for you. Put it in your amulet.» Ayla took the pouch from around her neck and fumbled to untie the knots. She took the red-stained oval of ivory from Brun and put it beside the chunk of red ochre and the fossil cast, then closed the leather bag and slipped it back over her neck.

«Do not tell anyone yet; I will announce it before the feast tonight. It is in your honor, Ayla, in honor of your first kill,» Brun said. «I hope your next one will be more palatable than a hyena,» he added with a twinkle of humor in his eyes. «Now, turn around.»

She did as she was told, and felt the blindfold cover her eyes and the two men lead her back, then remove the blindfold. She watched Brun and Goov return to the circle of men. Was I dreaming? She felt her throat and the sting of the wound where Mog-ur had cut her, then slid her hand down and felt three objects inside her amulet. She moved her wrap aside and stared at the slightly smeared black lines that covered her scars. A hunter! I am a hunter! A hunter for the clan. They said it was my totem who wanted it and they couldn't deny him. She clutched her amulet, closed her eyes, and then began the formal gestures.

«Great Cave Lion, why did I ever doubt you? The death curse was a difficult test, the worst yet, but it had to be for so great a gift. I am so grateful you found me worthy. I know Creb was right-my life will never be easy with you as my totem, but it will always be worth it.»

The ceremony had been effective enough to convince the men that Ayla should be allowed to hunt-all but one. Broud was furious. If he hadn't been so frightened by Mogur's warning, he would have left the ceremony. He wanted no part of anything that gave that female special privileges. He glowered at Mog-ur, but his special bitterness was directed at Brun, and he couldn't swallow his gall.

It's his doing, Broud thought. He's always protected her, always favored her. He threatened me with a death curse just for punishing her for her insolence. Me, the son of his mate, and she deserved it. He should have cursed her right, it should have been forever. Now he's letting her hunt, hunt, just like a man. How could he do it? Well, Brun's getting old. He won't be leader forever. Someday I'll be leader, then we'll see. Then she won't have him to protect her. Then we'll see what privileges she gets; just let her try to get away with her insolence then.