“We need to find our way out of here, Wolf. Let’s go home,” she said, but as she started walking, feeling her way along the damp wall, she realized how weak and exhausted she was.
The floor was uneven and slippery, littered with broken pieces of stone intermixed with slick, clayey mud. Pillars of stalagmites, some as thin as twigs and some as massive as ancient trees, seemed to grow from the floor. The tops, when she happened to feel them, were wet from the inexorable drips of calcareous water falling from stalactites, their stone icicle counterparts reaching down from the ceiling. After hitting her head on one, she tried to be more careful. How had she ever gotten so far into the cave?
The wolf ranged ahead a short ways, then came back to her, and at one place urged her away from a wrong turn. When she felt the ground rise under her, she knew she was getting closer to the entrance. She had been in the cave often enough to recognize the place, but trying to climb up the tumbled stone, she felt a wave of dizziness that brought her to her knees. It seemed much farther than she remembered, and she had to stop and rest several times before reaching a smallish narrow opening. Although the entire cave was sacred, there was a natural barrier of rock that partitioned the cave, separating the more mundane beginning section from the inner profoundly sacr
ed region. The hole was the only way through, an entrance into the Great Mother’s Underworld.
She noticed the temperature starting to grow slightly warmer once she was beyond the obstruction, but it made her shiver as she became aware of how cold she was. After a turn, she thought she saw a hint of light ahead and and tried to hurry. She was sure when she reached the next turn. She could see the wet texture of the cave walls glistening, and ahead the wolf jogging toward a faint glow. When she rounded a corner, she welcomed the dim light coming in from outside, though her eyes had become so accustomed to the dark, it was almost too brilliant. She almost ran when she saw the opening ahead.
Ayla staggered out of the cave, blinking her watering eyes, which washed streaks down her muddy cheeks. Wolf crowded in close to her. When she could finally see, she was surprised to discover the sun high overhead, and several people staring at her. The two hunters, Lorigan and Forason, and Jeviva, the pregnant woman’s mother, held back at first, looking at her with a suggestion of awe, and their greeting was somewhat subdued, but when she stumbled and fell they rushed to help. They eased her to sit up, and when she saw their concern on their faces, she felt a great relief.
“Water,” she said. “Thirsty.”
“Let’s get her some water,” Jeviva said. She had noticed blood on Ayla’s legs and clothing but didn’t say anything.
Lorigan opened his waterbag and gave it to her. She drank greedily, letting it run out of her mouth in her hurry. Water had never tasted so good. She smiled when she finally stopped, but did not give up the waterbag.
“Thank you. I was ready to lick the water off the walls.”
“There have been times when I felt that way,” Lorigan said with a smile.
“How did you know where I was? And that I would be coming out?” Ayla asked.
“I saw the wolf run in this direction,” Forason said, nodding in the animal’s direction, “and when I told Marthona, she said you were probably in here. She told us to come and wait for you. She said you might need help. One or another of us has been here ever since. Jeviva and Lorigan just came to relieve me.”
“I’ve seen some of the zelandonia come back from their ‘calling’ before. Some were so exhausted, they couldn’t walk. Some don’t come back,” Jeviva said. “How do you feel?”
“Very tired,” Ayla said. “And still thirsty.” She took another drink, then handed the waterbag back to Lorigan. The carrier pack she had found inside slid off when Ayla put her arm down. She had forgotten she had it. Now that she was in the light, she could see that distinctive designs had been painted on it. She held it out. “I found this in there. Does anyone know who it belongs to? Someone may have tucked it out of the way and forgotten about it.”
Lorigan and Jeviva looked at each other; then Lorigan said, “I’ve seen Madroman carrying that around.”
“Have you looked inside it?” Jeviva said.
Ayla smiled. “I couldn’t see to look. I didn’t have a light, but I did try to feel,” she said.
“You were in there in the dark?” Forason said, full of incredulous wonder.
“Never mind,” Jeviva said, shushing him. “It’s not your concern.”
“I’d like to see what’s in that,” Lorigan said, giving Jeviva a significant glance. Ayla handed it to him. He pulled out the fur cloak and shook it out to expose it. The fur was made of squares and triangles of various types and shades from different animals sewn together into the characteristic pattern of a zelandonia acolyte.
“That does belong to Madroman. I saw him wearing it last year when he came around telling Jeralda what to do if she wanted to keep the baby,” Jeviva said with a tone of disdain. “She held that one nearly six moons. He said she needed to appease the Mother, and told her to perform all kinds of rituals, but when Zelandoni found her walking in circles outside, she made her go in and lie down right away. Zelandoni said she needed to rest, or she would shake the baby loose too soon. The Donier said the only thing wrong with her was that she has a slippery womb and tends to drop them too easy. She lost that one. It would have been a boy.” The woman looked at Lorigan. “What else is in there?”
He reached inside the pouch and pulled out the empty waterbag without comment, holding it up for all to see; then he looked inside and dumped the remaining contents out on top of the cloak. Partially chewed pieces of dried meat and a hunk of a traveling cake fell out, along with a small flint blade and a firestone. Among the crumbs there also appeared to be a few wood splinters and pieces of charcoal.
“Wasn’t Madroman bragging before they left for the Summer Meeting that he had been ‘called’ and was finally going to be Zelandoni this year?” Lorigan said. He lifted the waterbag. “I don’t think he was very thirsty when he came out of that cave.”
“Did you say you were planning to go to the Summer Meeting later, Ayla?” Jeviva said.
“I was thinking of going in a few days. Maybe now I’ll wait awhile,” Ayla said. “But yes, I do plan to go.”
“I think you should take this with you,” Jeviva said, carefully wrapping the food remains, splinters, fire-making equipment, and waterbag in the cloak, and stuffing the cloak back in the carrier pouch, “and tell Zelandoni where you found it.”
“Can you walk?” the older hunter said.
Ayla tried to stand, and felt overcome with vertigo. For a moment everything went dark and she fell back. Wolf whimpered and licked her face.
“Stay there,” the older hunter said. “Come on, Lorigan. We need to make a litter to carry her.”