born to my hearth, he was raised there so I think of him as the son of my heart. I feel the same about Ayla and her little one, Jonayla.'
She's not only mated, she has a child, a young child, the Watcher thought. How can she even think of becoming a Zelandoni? Much less as an Acolyte to the most powerful Zelandoni on earth? The First must see a lot of potential in her, but inside she must be pulled so many ways.
Only these five visitors would be going into the cave at this time. The rest of the visitors would go another time and might not see as much. The Caves that watched over the Sacred Site didn't like too many to go in at one time. There were torches and lamps near the fireplace. That was part of the Watcher's job, to gather and prepare them so they would be on hand when needed. Everyone took a torch. The Watcher handed out extras, put more of them in a pack, and added some stone lamps and small bladders of oil. When everyone had a fire holder to light the way, the Watcher started in.
There was enough daylight coming into the entrance chamber to get a sense of the huge size of the cave, and a first impression of its disorganised character. A chaotic landscape of stone formations filled the space. Columns of stalactites once attached to the ceiling and their stalagmitic mates had dropped down as though the floor had fallen out from under them, some tipped over, some collapsed, some shattered. There was a sense of immediacy in the way they were strewn about, yet everything was so frozen in time they were iced with a thick caramel layer of glistening stalagmitic frosting.
The Watcher started humming as she led them toward the left, staying close to the wall. The rest followed in single file, with the First next in line, then Ayla, followed by Jonokol and Willamar, with Jondalar at the end. He was tall enough to see over the heads of the rest and thought of himself as a sort of protective rear guard, though he had no idea from what they needed to be protected.
Even well into the cave there was still enough light coming in from the entrance that it was not entirely dark. Instead the cave was suffused with a kind of deep twilight, especially once eyes became accustomed to the shadowed ambience. As they moved inside and passed by with their lamps or torches, the colouration of the stone the light illuminated varied from thin new icicles of pure white to lumpy grey stumps hoary with age. Flowing draperies hung from above, striped along the folds in shades of yellow, orange, red, and white. Shining lights of crystal caught the eye, reflecting and amplifying the meagre light, some glittering off the floor covered by a white film of calcite. They saw fantastical sculptures that kindled the imagination and colossal white columns that glowed with translucent mystery. It was an utterly beautiful cave.
In the vague light they reached a place where the space seemed to open out. The sides of the chamber disappeared and in front of them, except for a gleaming white disc, the emptiness seemed to go on and on. Ayla felt that they had entered another area that was even larger than the entrance chamber. Though the ceiling was hung with strange and magnificent stalactites that resembled long white hair, the floor was unusually level, like the calm, still lake it once was. But now the floor of the huge chamber was cluttered with skulls and bones and teeth, and the shallow depressions that had been the beds of hibernating cave bears.
The Watcher, who had been humming continuously, started increasing the volume of her sound until the intensity and force of the droning was louder than Ayla, who was standing beside her, would have thought possible for anyone to make, but there was no reverberation. The noise was swallowed by the immensity of the empty space inside the stone cliff. Next the One Who Was First started singing the Mother's Song in her deep, rich operatic contralto.
The First hesitated, then stopped. There was no resonance, no echo coming back. The cave was telling them that this was not the place for people. This space belonged to the cave bears. She wondered if there were any images in the empty room. The Watcher would know.
'Zelandoni who watches over this cave,' she said formally, 'did the ancients make any images in the room ahead.'
'No,' the woman said. 'This room isn't ours to paint. We can go into the room in spring, just as they often go into our place in this cave, but the Mother has given this room to the cave bears for their winter sleep.'
'That must be why people decided not to live here,' Ayla said. 'When I first saw this cave I thought it ought to be a good place to live and wondered why a Cave had not chosen it. Now I know.'
The Watcher led them to the right. They passed by a small opening that led to another chamber and a little farther on came to a larger opening. Like the entrance chamber, this one was a chaotic mass of fallen blocks of stalagmites and concretions. The pathway went around these obstructions and led to a vast space with a high ceiling and a dark red floor. A promontory created by a huge cascade of stone dominated the chamber marked by several large red dots on a rock pendant suspended from the ceiling. They came to a large panel, a nearly vertical wall that continued up to the ceiling, covered by large red dots and various signs.
'How do you think these dots were made?' The Watcher asked.
'I suppose a big wad of leather or moss, or something similar could have been used,' Jonokol said.
'I think the Zelandoni of the Nineteenth should look a little more closely,' the First said. Ayla remembered that she had been here before and no doubt knew the answer. Willamar probably knew, too. Ayla did not volunteer a guess, nor did Jondalar. The Watcher held up her hand and stretched back her fingers, then held it up to a dot. It was just about the same size as her palm.
Jonokol peered at the large dots. They were a bit blurry but he could see faint impressions of the beginnings of fingers extending up from some of the dots. 'You're right!' he said. 'They must have made a very thick paste of red ochre, and dipped their palms in it. I don't think I have ever seen dots made that way!'
The Watcher smiled at his amazement, and looked rather pleased with herself. Seeing the smile made Ayla notice that the area they were in seemed to be more well lit. She looked around and realised they were close to the entrance again. They could have come this way in the beginning instead of going around by way of the extensive bear sleeping room, but she was sure the Watcher had her reasons for going the way she did. Next to the large dots was another painting that Ayla could not decipher except for the straight line of red paint above it with a crosspiece near the top.
The path led them around the blocks and concretions in the centre of the room until they came to the head of a lion painted in black on the wall opposite. It was the only black painting she saw. Near it was a sign and some little dots, perhaps made with a finger. Somewhat farther on was a series of palm-sized red dots. She counted them in her mind using the counting words. There were thirteen. Above them was another group of ten dots on the ceiling, but in order to make them someone had had to climb up on a concretion, with the help of some friends or apprentices, she supposed, so they must have been important to the maker, although she could not imagine why.
A little farther on was an alcove. A lobe of rock at the entrance was completely covered with the large red dots. Inside the alcove were more red dots on one wall and on the opposite wall, a group of dots, some lines and other markings, and three horse heads, two of them yellow. Within the central mass of blocks and stalagmites, opposite the alcove, the Watcher pointed out another sizable panel of large red dots behind some low concretions.
'Is there an animal head made of red dots in the middle of those dots?' Jonokol asked.
'Some people think so,' the Watcher said, smiling at the image-making Zelandoni for seeing it.
Ayla tried to see an animal, but she only saw dots. She did, however, see a difference. 'Do you think these dots were made by a different person than the other dots? They seem bigger.'
'I think you are right,' the Watcher said. 'We think the others were made by a woman, these by a man. There are more images, but in order to see them, we need to go back the way we came.'
She began humming again as she led them into a small chamber within the central concretions. A large drawing of the front part of a deer was painted there, probably a young megaceros. It had small, palmate antlers and a slight hump on the withers. While they were there, the Watcher raised the volume of her humming. The chamber resonated, crooned back to them. Jonokol joined in, singing scales that softly harmonised with the Watcher's tones. Ayla began whistling bird songs that complemented the music. Then the First started singing the next verses of the Mother's Song, toning down her strong contralto so that it just lent a rich, deep intense note to
