The Shelters of Stone (Earth's Children, Book 5)

"A powerful story . . . Auel is a highly imaginative writer." — The New York Times Book Review "Pure entertainment at its sublime, wholly exhilarating best."— Los Angeles Times "Auel may be creating one of the most believable characters in English fiction—one to rank with Sherlock Holmes, Scarlett O'Hara and a handful of others." — UPI From the Trade Paperback edition. From the Inside Flap The Shelters of Stone opens as Ayla and Jondalar, along with their animal friends, Wolf, Whinney, and Racer, complete their epic journey across Europe and are greeted by Jondalar?s people: the Zelandonii. The people of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii fascinate Ayla. Their clothes, customs, artifacts, even their homes?formed in great cliffs of vertical limestone?are a source of wonder to her. And in the woman Zelandoni, the spiritual leader of the Ninth Cave (and the one who initiated Jondalar into the Gift of Pleasure), she meets a fellow healer with whom to share her knowledge and skills.But as Ayla and Jondalar prepare for the formal mating at the Summer Meeting, there are difficulties. Not all the Zelandonii are welcoming. Some fear Ayla?s unfamiliar ways and abhor her relationship with those they call flatheads and she calls Clan. Some even oppose her mating with Jondalar, and make their displeasure known. Ayla has to call on all her skills, intelligence, knowledge, and instincts to find her way in this complicated society, to prepare for the birth of her child, and to decide whether she will accept new challenges and play a significant role in the destiny of the Zelandonii.Jean Auel is at her very best in this superbly textured creation of a prehistoric society. The Shelters of Stone is a sweeping story of love and danger, with all the wonderful detail?based on meticulous research? that makes her novels unique. It is a triumphant continuation of the Earth?s Children® saga that began with The Clan of the Cave Bear . And it includes an amazing rhythmic poem that describes the birth of Earth?s Children and plays its own role in the narrative of The Shelters of Stone . From the Hardcover edition. JEAN M. AUEL is an international phenomenon. Her books have sold 34 million copies worldwide. Her extensive research has earned her the respect of archaeologists and anthropologists around the world. She lives with her husband, Ray, in Oregon, where she is at work on the next book in the Earth’s Children® series. From the Hardcover edition. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. People were gathering on the limestone ledge, looking down at them warily. No one made a gesture of welcome, and some held spears in positions of readiness if not actual threat. The young woman could almost feel their edgy fear. She watched from the bottom of the path as more people crowded together on the ledge, staring down, many more than she thought there would be. She had seen that reluctance to greet them from other people they had met on their Journey. It’s not just them, she told herself, it’s always that way in the beginning. But she felt uneasy.The tall man jumped down from the back of the young stallion. He was neither reluctant nor uneasy, but he hesitated for a moment, holding the stallion’s halter rope. He turned around and noticed that she was hanging back. “Ayla, will you hold Racer’s rope? He seems nervous,” he said, then looked up at the ledge. “I guess they do, too.”She nodded, lifted her leg over, slid down from the mare’s back, and took the rope. In addition to the tension of seeing strange people, the young brown horse was still agitated around his dam. She was no longer in heat, but residual odors still clung from her encounter with the herd stallion. Ayla held the halter rope of the brown male close, but gave the dun-yellow mare a long lead, and stood between them. She considered giving Whinney her head; her horse was more accustomed to large groups of strangers now, and was not usually high-strung, but she seemed nervous, too. That throng of people would make anyone nervous.When the wolf appeared, Ayla heard sounds of agitation and alarm from the ledge in front of the cave--if it could be called a cave. She’d never seen one quite like it. Wolf pressed against the side of her leg and moved somewhat in front of her, suspiciously defensive; she could feel the vibration of his barely audible growl. He was much more guarded around strangers now than he had been when they began their long Journey a year before, but he had been little more than a puppy then, and he had become more protective of her after some perilous experiences.As the man strode up the incline toward the apprehensive people, he showed no fear, but the woman was glad for the opportunity to wait behind and observe them before she had to meet them. She’d been expecting--dreading--this moment for more than a year, and first impressions were important . . . on both sides.Though others held back, a young woman rushed toward him. Jondalar recognized his younger sister immediately, though the pretty girl had blossomed into a beautiful young woman during the five years of his absence.“Jondalar! I knew it was you!” she said, flinging herself at him. “You finally came home!”He gave her a big hug, then picked her up and swung her around in his enthusiasm. “Folara, I am so happy to see you!” He put her down and looked at her at arms’ length. “But you’ve grown. You were just a girl when I left; now you’re a beautiful woman . . . just as I always knew you’d be,” he said, with slightly more than a brotherly glint in his eye.She smiled at him, looked into his unbelievably vivid blue eyes and was drawn by their magnetism. She felt herself flush, not from his compliment, although that’s what those standing nearby thought, but from the rush of attraction she felt for the man, brother or not, whom she had not seen for many years. She had heard stories of her handsome big brother with the unusual eyes who could charm any woman, but her memory was of a tall adoring playmate who was willing to go along with any game or activity she wanted to play. This was the first time as a young woman that she was exposed to the full effect of his unconscious charisma. Jondalar noticed her reaction and smiled warmly at her sweet confusion.She glanced away toward the bottom of the path near the small river. “Who is that woman, Jondé?” she asked, “and where did the animals come from? Animals run away from people; why don’t those animals run away from her? Is she a Zelandoni? Has she Called them?” Then she frowned. “Where’s Thonolan?” She took a sharp breath at the look of pain that tightened Jondalar’s brow.“Thonolan travels the next world now, Folara,” he said, “and I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for that woman.”“Oh, Jondé! What happened?”“It’s a long story, and this is not the time to tell it,” he said, but he had to smile at the name she called him. It was her personal nickname for him. “I haven’t heard that name since I left. Now I know I’m home. How is everyone, Folara? Is Mother all right? And Willamar?”“They’re both fine. Mother gave us a scare a couple of years ago. But Zelandoni worked her special magic, and she seems fine now. Come and see for yourself,” she said, taking his hand and starting to lead him the rest of the way up the path.Jondalar turned and waved at Ayla, trying to let her know that he would be back soon. He hated leaving her there alone with the animals, but he needed to see his mother, to see for himself that she was all right. That “scare” bothered him, and he needed to talk to people about the animals. He and Ayla had both come to realize how strange and frightening it was to most people to see animals that did not run away from them.People knew animals. All the people they had met on their Journey hunted them, and most honored or paid homage to them or their spirits in one way or another. Animals had been observed carefully for as long as anyone could remember. People knew the environments they favored and the foods they liked, their migration patterns and seasonal movements, their birthing periods and rutting schedules. But no one had ever tried to touch a living, breathing animal in a friendly way. No one had ever tried to tie a rope around the head of any animal and lead it around. No one had ever tried to tame an animal, or even imagined that it could be done.As pleased as these people were to see a kinsman return from a long Journey--especially one that few ever expected to see again--the tame animals were such an unknown phenomenon that their first reaction was fear. It was so strange, so inexplicable, so far beyond their experience or imagination that it could not be natural. It had to be unnatural, supernatural. The only thing that kept many of them from running and hiding, or attempting to kill the fearsome animals, was that Jondalar, whom they knew, had arrived with them, and he was striding up the path from Wood River with his sister, looking perfectly normal under the bright light of the sun.Folara had shown some courage rushing forward the way she had, but she was young and had the fearlessness of youth. And she was so pleased to see her brother, who had always been a special favorite, that she couldn’t wait. Jondalar would never do anything to harm her and he didn’t fear the animals.Ayla watched from the foot of the path while people surrounded Jondalar, welcoming him with smiles, hugs, kisses, pats, handshakes using both hands, and many words. She noticed a hugely fat woman, a brown-haired man whom Jondalar hugged, and an older woman whom he greeted warmly and then kept his arm around. Probably his mother, she thought, and wondered what the woman would think of her.These people were his family, his kin, his friends, people he had grown up with. She was a stranger, a disturbing stranger who brought animals and who knew what other threatening foreign ways and outrageous ideas. Would they accept her? What if they didn’t? She couldn’t go back, her people lived more than a year’s travel to the east. Jondalar had promised that he would leave with her if she wanted--or was forced--to go, but that was before he saw everyone, before he was greeted so warmly. How would he feel now?She felt a nudge from behind and reached up to stroke Whinney’s sturdy neck, grateful that her friend had reminded her that she was not alone. When she lived in the valley, after she left the Clan, for a long time the horse had been her only companion. She hadn’t noticed the slack in Whinney’s rope as the horse moved closer to her, but she gave Racer a bit more lead. The mare and her offspring usually found friendship and comfort in each other, but when the mare came into season it had disturbed their usual pattern.More people--how could there be so many?--were looking in her direction, and Jondalar was talking earnestly with the brown-haired man, then waved at her and smiled. When he started back down, he was followed by the young woman, the brown-haired man, and a few others. Ayla took a deep breath and waited.As they approached, the wolf’s growl became louder. Ayla reached down to hold him close to her. “It’s all right, Wolf,” she said. “It’s just Jondalar’s kin.” Her calming touch was a signal to him to stop growling, not to appear too threatening. The signal had been difficult to teach him, but worth the effort, especially now, she thought. She wished she knew of a touch that would calm her.The group with Jondalar stopped a short distance away, trying not to show their trepidation or to stare at the animals that openly stared at them and held their place even when strange people approached them. Jondalar stepped into the breach.“I think we should start with formal introductions, Joharran,” he said, looking at the brown-haired man.As Ayla dropped both halter ropes in preparation for a formal introduction, which required contact with both hands, the horses stepped back, but the wolf stayed. She noticed the glint of fear in the man’s eye, although she doubted that this man was afraid of much, and glanced at Jondalar, wondering if he had a reason for wan... Read more