"I have something I want to give you before I leave. I discovered this when I was living alone in my valley," she said, opening her palm to show her the stone. "I thought you might be able to make use of it for your Fire Ceremony."
S'Armuna looked at it, then looked up at Ayla questioningly.
"I know it doesn't look like it, but there is fire inside this stone. Let me show you."
Ayla went to the fireplace, got out the tinder they used, and arranged small shavings of wood loosely around dried cattail fluff. She placed sticks of kindling nearby, then bent down low and struck the iron pyrite with flint. A large hot spark was drawn off and fell on the tinder, and when she blew on it, a small flame miraculously appeared. She added kindling to keep it going, and when she looked up she saw the stunned woman gaping at her incredulously.
"Cavoa told me she saw a munai with your face, and now you make fire appear. Are you… who they say you are?"
Ayla smiled. "Jondalar made that carving, because he loved me. He said he wanted to capture my spirit, and then he gave it to me. It's not a donii, or a munai. It's just a token of his feeling, and I will be happy to show you how to make fire appear. It's not me, it's something in the firestone."
"Should I be here?" The voice came from the entrance, and both women turned to look at Cavoa. "I forgot my mitts and came back for them."
S'Armuna and Ayla looked at each other. "I don't see why not," Ayla said.
"Cavoa is my acolyte," S'Armuna remarked.
"Then I'll show both of you how the firestone works," Ayla said.
When she had gone through the process again and let them both try it, they were feeling more relaxed, though they were no less amazed at the properties of the strange stone. Cavoa even felt brave enough to ask Ayla about the munai.
"That figure I saw…"
"Jondalar made it for me, not long after we met. It was meant to show his feeling for me," Ayla explained.
"You mean, if I wanted to show a person how important I think that person is, I could make a carving of that person's face?" Cavoa said.
"I don't see why not," Ayla said. "When you make a munai, you know why you are making it. You have a special feeling inside you about it, don't you?"
"Yes, and certain rituals go along with it," the young woman said.
"I think it's the feeling you put into it that makes the difference."
"So I could carve someone's face, if the feeling I put into it was good."
"I don't think there would be anything wrong with that at all. You are a very fine artist, Cavoa."
"But, perhaps, it would be best," S'Armuna cautioned, "if you did not make the whole figure. If you just made the head, there would be no confusion."
Cavoa nodded in agreement; then both of them looked at Ayla, as though waiting for her approval. In the recesses of their private thoughts, both women still wondered who this visitor really was.
Ayla and Jondalar woke the next morning with every intention of leaving, but outside the lodge a dry snow was blowing so fiercely that it was hard even to see across the settlement.
"I don't think we'll be leaving today, not with a blizzard in the making," Jondalar said, though he hated the thought of the delay. "I hope it blows over soon."
Ayla went to the field and whistled for the horses, to make sure they were all right. She was relieved to see them appear out of the haze of wind-driven snow, and she led them to an area nearer the Camp that was protected from the wind. As she walked back, her mind was on their return trip to the Great Mother River, since she was the one who knew the way. She didn't hear her name whispered at first.
"Ayla!" The whisper was louder. She looked around and saw Cavoa on the far side of the small lodge, staying out of view and beckoning to her.
"What is it, Cavoa?"
"I want to show you something, to see how you like it," the young woman said. When Ayla got close, Cavoa took off her mitt. In her hand was a small roundish object, the color of mammoth ivory. She placed it carefully in Ayla's palm. "I just finished it," she said.
Ayla held it up and smiled with a look of wonder. "Cavoa! I knew you were good. I didn't know you were this good," she said, carefully examining the small carving of S'Armuna.
It was just the head of the woman, no hint of a body, not even a neck, but there was no doubt who the carving was meant to depict. The hair was pulled up into a bun near the top of the head, and the narrow face was slightly skewed, with one side somewhat smaller than the other, yet the beauty and the dignity of the woman were evident. It seemed to emanate from within the small work of art.
"Do you think it's all right? Do you think she'll like it?" Cavoa said. "I wanted to make something special for her."
"I would like it," Ayla said, "and I think it expresses your feeling for her very well. You have a rare and wonderful Gift, Cavoa, but you must be sure to use it well. There could be great power in it. S'Armuna was wise to choose you as her acolyte."
By evening, a howling blizzard was raging, making it dangerous to move more than a few feet beyond the entrance of a lodge. S'Armuna was reaching for a bunch of dried greenery hanging from the rack near the entryway, planning to add it to a new batch of herbs she was mixing together for a potent drink she was preparing for the Fire Ceremony. The fire in the fireplace was burning low, and Ayla and Jondalar had just gone to bed. The woman planned to retire as soon as she finished.
Suddenly a blast of cold air and a flurry of snow accompanied the opening of the heavy drape stretched across the entrance to the anteroom. Esadoa pushed through the second drape in evident distress.
"S'Armuna! Hurry! It's Cavoa! Her time has come."
Ayla was out of bed pulling on clothes before the woman could reply.
"She picked a good night for it," S'Armuna said, maintaining calm, in part to soothe the agitated expectant grandmother. "It will be all right, Esadoa. She won't have the baby before we reach your lodge."
"She's not in my lodge. She insisted on going out in this storm to the big lodge. I don't know why, but she wants to have the baby there. And she wants Ayla to come, too. She says it's the only way to be sure the baby will be all right."
S'Armuna frowned with concern. "No one is there tonight, and it wasn't wise for her to go out in this weather."
"I know, but I couldn't stop her," Esadoa said, starting back out.
"Wait a moment," S'Armuna said. "We might as well all go together. You can get lost going from one lodge to the next in a storm like this."
"Wolf won't let us get lost," Ayla said, signaling the animal, who had been curled up beside their bed.
"Would it be inappropriate for me to come?" Jondalar said. It wasn't so much that he wanted to be there for the birthing as that he was worried about Ayla going out in the blizzard. S'Armuna looked at Esadoa.
"I don't mind, but should a man be at a birthing?" Esadoa said.
"There is no reason why not," S'Armuna said, "and it might be a good thing to have a man nearby since she has no mate."
They all braved the brunt of the wind together as the three women and the man went out into the howling gale. When they reached the big lodge, they found the young woman huddled over a cold, empty fireplace, her body tense with pain and a look of fear in her eyes. She brightened with relief when she saw her mother arrive with the others. Within moments, Ayla had a fire lit – much to the surprise of Esadoa – Jondalar was back outside getting snow from a drift to melt for water, Esadoa found the bedding that had been put away and arranged it on a bed platform, and S'Armuna was selecting various herbs that she might need from the supply she had brought there before.