They walked some distance, staying close to the right wall, through a long tunnel. It wasn’t until they reached an opening to the right that they saw more markings; on the low vaulted ceiling of the passage were four red negative handprints, somewhat smeared, three red dots, and some black marks. Across the opening were a series of eleven large black dots and two negative handprints that had been made by placing a hand on the wall and spattering red color on and around it. When the hand was taken away, a negative impression of the hand remained surrounded by the red ocher. The Seventh then turned right into the opening of the vaulted passage.
Beyond the smeared negative handprints, the stone on the wall became soft, as though covered with clay. The cave was high above the river valley floor, and reasonably dry inside, but it was calcareous rock, which was naturally porous, and water saturated with calcium carbonate constantly seeped through it. Sometimes, drip by infinitesimal drip, over millennia, huge stalagmite pillars formed, which seemed to grow from the floor of a limestone cave below stalactite icicles of equal size but different shape suspended from the ceiling. But sometimes the water accumulated in the limestone and left the surface of the cave walls softened enough that marks could be made with only the fingers. Significant areas of the softened stone had formed in the small room to the right, which seemed to invite visitors to mark. Portions of the walls were covered with a scrawl of fingermarks, which for the most part were unorganized scribbles, although one area included the partial drawing of a megaceros defined by a huge distinctive palmate antler and a small head.
There were other signs and dots painted in red or black color where the surface was hard enough, but except for the megaceros, Ayla felt the room was filled with disorganized marks that were meaningless to her. But she was beginning to learn that no one knew what everything in the painted caves meant. It was likely that no one actually knew what anything meant, except the person who put it there, and perhaps not even then. If something painted on the walls of a cave made you feel something, then whatever you felt was what it meant. It might depend on your state of mind, which could be altered, or how receptive you were. Ayla thought about what the Seventh said when she asked him about the rows of large dots. He put it in very personal terms and told her what the dots meant to him. The caves were Sacred Sites, but she was beginning to think it was a personal, individual sacredness. Maybe that’s what she was supposed to be learning on this trip.
When they left the small room, the Seventh crossed to the left side of the main passageway that led to it. The tunnel at that point turned toward the left and they walked along the left wall for a short distance. Then the Seventh held up his lamp. It illuminated a long panel filled with animals painted in black, many superimposed on others. At first she saw the mammoths—there were many of them—then she saw the horses, the bison, and the aurochs. One of the mammoths was covered with black marks. The Seventh said nothing about the panel; he just stayed there long enough for everyone to see what they wanted to see. When he saw most people starting to lose interest, except Jonokol, who could probably have stayed much longer just to study the painting, the Seventh moved on. He next showed them a cornice on which were painted bison and mammoths.
There were several more markings and a few animals that the Seventh pointed out as they moved slowly through the cave, but the next place he stopped was truly remarkable. On a large panel were two horses painted in black, back-to-back, and the inside of the outlines of their bodies was filled with large black dots. In addition there were more dots and handprints around the outside of the horse outlines, but the most unusual aspect was the head of the right-facing horse. The painted head was quite small, but it was painted inside a natural contour of the rock that resembled the head of a horse and framed the painted head. The shape of the rock itself had told the artist that a horse needed to be painted there. All the visitors were very impressed. The First, who had seen the horse panel before, smiled at the Seventh. They had both known what was coming and they were pleased that they got the response they had expected.
“Do you know who painted this?” Jonokol asked.
“An Ancestor, but not an ancient one. Let me show you some things you may not notice immediately,” the Seventh said, stepping up closer to the stone panel. He held his left hand up over the bac
k of the left-facing horse and bent the joint of his thumb. When he held his hand beside a red outline, it was obvious that the negative space was not a handprint, but a bent thumb. Now that it had been pointed out, they could see that there were several outlines of bent thumbs along the back of the left-hand horse.
“Why was that done?” a young acolyte asked.
“You would have to ask the Zelandoni who painted it,” the Seventh replied.
“But you said it was done by an Ancestor.”
“Yes,” the Zelandoni said.
“But the Ancestor walks in the next world now.”
“Yes.”
“Then, how can I ask?”
The Seventh only smiled at the young man, who frowned and fidgeted. There were some titters of laughter from those watching, which suddenly made the young acolyte blush.
“I can’t ask, can I?”
“Perhaps when you learn to walk in the next world,” the First said. “There are some Zelandonia who can, you know. But it is very dangerous, and not all choose to.”
“I don’t believe everything on that panel was made by the same person,” Jonokol said. “The horses probably were, and the hands, and most of the dots, but I think some of them were added later, and the thumbs, and I think I see a red fish on top of that horse, but it’s not clear.”
“You may be right,” said the Seventh. “That’s very perceptive.”
“He is an artist,” Willamar said.
Ayla noticed that Willamar often tended to keep his opinions to himself, and wondered if that was something he had learned to do on his travels. When you traveled a lot and met many new people, it probably wasn’t wise to advance your own opinions on strangers too readily.
The Seventh showed them many other marks and paintings, including a human-like figure with lines either coming out of or going into his body, similar to those they had seen at the Fourth South Land Cave’s Sacred Site, but after the unusual horses, nothing else seemed to stand out, except for some formations far older than any of the paintings. Large disks of calcite naturally formed by the same actions that had created the cave itself decorated one room in the cave and were left alone in their own space without any embellishments added, as though they were decorations in their own right made by the Mother.
After they returned from visiting the Sacred Site, the First was anxious for them to be on their way again, but she felt she had to stay for a while to fulfill her role as the First Among Those Who Served The Great Mother, especially for the zelandonia. It wasn’t often that they had an opportunity to spend time with her. For some of the groups who lived within Zelandonii territory, the First was almost a mythical figure, a figurehead whom they acknowledged but seldom saw, and in reality, did not need to see. They were more than capable of performing their functions without her, but for the most part they were very pleased and excited to see her. It wasn’t as though they thought of her as the Mother Herself, or even the Mother incarnate, but she was definitely Her representative, and with her huge size, she was impressive. Having an acolyte who could control animals added to her stature. She had to stay a little longer.
During the evening meal, the Seventh sought out the visitors. He sat beside the First with his plate of food and smiled, then spoke softly to her. It wasn’t exactly a conspiratorial whisper, but Ayla was sure she would not have heard him if she hadn’t been sitting on the other side of the First.
“We have been talking about having a special ceremony at the Sacred Cave later tonight, and would like you and your acolyte to join us if you feel up to it,” he said.
The First smiled at him encouragingly. This might make her decision to stay a little longer a bit more interesting, she thought.
“Ayla, would you be interested in going to this special ceremony?”
“If you would like me to, I would be happy to join you,” Ayla said.
“What about Jonayla? Can Jondalar watch her?” the First asked.