THE SHELTERS OF STONE

"I think it is obvious from watching her that this kind of sign language is a natural way of communicating for Ayla," Zelandoni said, thinking to herself that her motions would not be so smooth and graceful if she was faking. And what reason would she have to lie about it-could it be true that she can't tell a lie? She wasn't entirely convinced, but Jondalar's arguments had been persuasive.

"Tell us more about your life with them," Zelandoni of the Eleventh said. "You don't have to continue with the signs, unless you want to. It is beautiful to watch, but I think you have made your point. You said they buried their dead. I'd like to know more of their burial practices."

"Yes, they bury their dead. I was there when Iza died."

The discussion continued all afternoon. Ayla gave a moving account of the ceremony and ritual of the burial, then told them more about her childhood. People asked many questions, interrupting often to discuss and request more information.

Joharran finally noticed it was getting dark. "I think Ayla is tired, and we're all hungry again," he said. "Before we break up, I think we should talk about a hunt before the Summer Meeting."

"Jondalar was telling me they have a new hunting weapon to show us," Manvelar said. "Perhaps tomorrow or the next day would be a good day to hunt. That would give the Third Cave time to develop some plans to offer about where we should go."

"Good," Joharran said, "but now, Proleva has arranged another meal for us, if anyone is hungry."

The meeting had been intense and fascinating, but people were glad to be up and moving around. As they walked back toward the dwellings, Ayla thought about the meeting, and all the questions. She knew she had answered everything truthfully, but she also knew she hadn't volunteered much beyond what was asked. In particular, she had avoided any mention of her son. She knew that to the Zelandonii he would be thought of as an abomination, and though she could not lie, she could refrain from mentioning.

Chapter 9

It was dark inside when they reached Marthona's dwelling. Folara had gone to stay with her friend Ramila, rather than wait alone for her mother, Willamar, Ayla, and Jondalar to return. They had seen her during the evening meal, but the discussions had continued on a more informal basis, and the young woman knew they were not likely to return early.

Not even a faint glow from dying coals in the fireplace could be seen when they pushed aside the entry drape.

"I'll get a lamp or a torch and get a fire start from Joharran's," Willamar said.

"I don't see any light there," Marthona said. "He was at the meeting and so was Proleva. They probably went to get Jaradal."

"How about Solaban's?" Willamar said.

"I don't see a light there, either. Ramara must be gone. Solaban was at the meeting all day, too."

"You don't have to bother getting fire," Ayla said. "I have the firestones I found today. I can have one going in a heartbeat."

"What are firestones?" Marthona and Willamar said almost in unison.

"We'll show you," Jondalar said. Though she couldn't see his face, Ayla knew he was grinning.

"I will need tinder," Ayla said. "Something to catch a spark."

"There is tinder by the hearth, but I'm not sure I can find the fireplace without stumbling over something," Marthona said. "We can get a fire start from someone."

"You'd have to go in and find a lamp or a torch in the dark, wouldn't you?" Jondalar said.

"We can borrow a lamp," Marthona said.

"I think I can make enough spark lights to find the fireplace," Ayla said, taking out her flint knife and feeling in her pouch for the firestones she had found.

She entered the dwelling first, holding the nodule of iron pyrite in front of her in her left hand and her knife in the right. For a moment she felt as though she were entering a deep cave. The darkness was so intense, it seemed to push back at her. A quick chill shook her. She struck the firestone with the back of her flint blade.

"Ooohhh," Ayla heard Marthona say as a bright spark lit up the charcoal black interior for an instant and then died.

"How did you do that?" Willamar asked. "Can you do it again?"

"I did it with my flint knife and a firestone," Ayla said, and struck the two together to show that she could, indeed, do it again. The long-lived spark allowed her to take a few steps toward the fireplace. She struck it again and moved a little closer to it. When she reached the cooking hearth, she saw that Marthona had found her way there, too.

"I keep my tinder here, on this side," Marthona said. "Where do you want it?"