Legal Disclaimer: Jean Auel & Company: Yes. Moi: I wish. Reason: Ownership. There. That should make the laywers happy. Enjoy the third installment in the series, folks. Comments, as always, are highly appreciated.

Teaser: Can an untrained woman of the Others handle the dangerous, forbidden root ceremony?

*Flash*

The icy wind whipped past Anya, freezing her cheeks. Fog! Everywhere was fog, and the haze was distorting her vision as she shivered with the cold of this seemingly neverending winter. When she looked down at herself, she was clad only in a thin, brief summer tunic that barely reached past her thighs.

*Where am I?* she cried out to the fog. *Why am I here? What do you want with me?*

Her mental voice seemed to echo in the valley of her own thoughts as she listened, inwardly straining for an answer. The icy wind only seemed to whip harder, singing her whole body with its icy fingers. The fog seemed to grow denser, and she wondered if, somehow, she had died, was in some sort of strange spirit realm.

*If I died, I don't know how!* she thought, shivering hard, trying to stifle whimpers. The icy wind shot right through her tunic as if she had been completely naked. *Where is the Mother, then? Where is Doni, if I am dead? Where is my totem, to guide me?*

A loud rumble echoed through the foggy mist, and she whirled, seeing nothing. *What do you want!* she echoed again.

Finally, the rumbled sounded again, fainter this time, and she saw an enormous black shape fading in out of the mist. At first, she could not recognize it, even when she squinted. Then she noticed a second figure, humanoid, was hobbling along besides the larger figure.

*Who are you?* she sent. *Why do you want me?*

Suddenly, to her shock, the images came in clearly. One was her own cave bear friend, Ursus, his red-dyed foot standing out. The other was a crippled man of the Clan, a man Anya had never seen before. He was missing his left eye, and that side of his face was hideously scarred.

He walked with a limp, and as they came closer, Anya saw that he was missing his right arm altogether, all that was there was a stump. His right leg was deformed, useless. But the utter power in his gaze, the deep Clan eye that stared at her, sent down her spine a stunning chill of recognition; suddenly, she seemed to know him as well as her mother had done.

Creb!

*Creb, you have to be Creb,* she signed and mentally spoke at the same time. She had to be in the spirit world, Creb was dead. *Creb, guided and guarded by Ursus--is this woman dead, with you in the spirit world?*

*This woman is not what you consider dead, no, woman of the Others, daughter of Ayla. This man is appearing to you, to confirm--you did the right thing, saving the Clan's life, joining their ranks. The spirits are pleased, but your work is not yet done. The future of our Clan, Anya--you will help ensure it's future, you and your kind. I cannot tell you how--it is up to you to listen to the spirits, let them guide you. Be careful in what you decide in the future--making a wrong choice could spell disaster for the Clan.*

*But why me?* she sent, almost desperately.

*Your mother started a legacy, Anya,* he informed her with his one-handed gestures. *You, your kind, will help keep the legacy going, for the good of both our peoples.*

The cave bear beside him suddenly moved, and Anya watched, unafraid, as Ursus came up to her. Not knowing what guided her movements, she stretched out her arm. He scraped his paw across her scars; she was surprised to not feel any pain--the red marks he left were not blood, but red ochre paste, a sacred substance to both the Others and the Clan.

*The spirit of Ursus guides and protects you.* said Creb. *Though you are a woman, you are in need of his protection. You are well gifted; and you will continue to be tested throughout your life, daughter of the Others. Those with powerful totems do lead complex lives. The Mother guides you as well, listen to your heart, and you will truimph.*

Before Anya could say anything else, she was startled to see Creb changing before her very eyes. The crippled man suddenly straightened, and his scars faded into oblivion. A second eye appeared, he suddenly had a new, whole right arm, his leg untwisted and became whole, useful. To any Clan eye now, he was impeccably handsome, this was the person Creb would have been without his affliction. Ursus hunkered down as this new, robust Creb grabbed ahold of his shaggy fur and hoisted himself on his back. Without a word of good-bye--it was not the Clan way--they turned and started off in the way they had come.

Suddenly, the fog around her faded, she was standing outside of the Ninth Cave. A clear birdcall could be heard; she looked up to see a brilliantly white bird flying overhead. A woman's singing could be heard, a lovely melody without words wafted on the breeze. She sensed an unearthly presence; somehow she sensed Doni was near.

*O great Doni, Mother of All, is this your way of condoning my being Clan, my actions concerning them?* she sent. *Is what Creb said true?*

The white bird suddenly swooped down, landing on her shoulder. In her beak she held a pure white feather with one black marking--shaped, strangely enough, like a tiny cave bear. The little bird cooed, nuzzled Anya's cheek for a moment, then flapped off again.

As Anya beheld the mysterious feather, a violent tremor seemed to take the ground around her, and sent shocks resounding throughout her entire body. Her startled cry echoed through the cliffs, and she wondered if she was going to die--for real.

*Flash*

"Anya, Anya, wake up!" A deep, insistent voice resounded in her brain suddenly, and gentle hands were shaking her. "Anya, it's only a dream. It's okay."

Anya gasped and jerked awake. To her shock, she was staring into deep brown Clan eyes again--but two, whole eyes beneath brow ridges and a high, full forehead.

Echozar!

Shocked, she tore her gaze from his worried one and looked frantically around her. She was in her own bed, safe in her parent's hearth. Her mother and Jondalar were sleeping peacefully nearby, Echozar's two children of his hearth were also sleeping soundly where they were staying on the other side of Jondalar's Hearth.

Only Echozar, of all people, had heard her cry out in her sleep and had tried to relieve her of her distress.

"Are you okay, Anya?" he asked gently, feeling her skin tremble beneath his hands clutched on her upper arms. She nodded--barely--and shook harder. Knowing that he was going to regret holding her so close, he pulled her to him in an attempt to soothe her frazzled nerves.

He closed his eyes, feeling the pain of touching her and knowing she could never reciprocate his feelings for her. He had had that once, he knew that, an ugly man like him, could never have it again.

Echozar had not held her like this since she was younger; she felt the familiar safety of his strong grasp soothe her soul. A dream. It had been a dream, she was alive--but what a dream! When the spirits guided her, they were not usually so blatanly obvious about it--they had done that, still did that with Ayla, but she had never before seen Creb in her own dreams before, she had only recognized him based upon her mother's detailed description of the man she had so loved as a father.

She relaxed and leaned into Echozar, feeling him rubbing her shoulders soothingly. To her utter shock, his touch sent an unfamiliar wave of heat searing across her skin. It made her unconsciously press closer against him, closing her eyes and relaxing completely.

This was wrong, it had to be, thought Echozar. She was young, beautiful, could have any man she wanted--he could only wish she would choose soon, and put him out of his misery of wanting her, already!

"Thanks, Echozar," she murmured, nuzzling her head against him in complete trust. "It was not a bad dream, exactly--the spirits spoke to me."

"How so?" he was desperate to have something to detract his attention, if he was going to continue to hold her like this. She seemed, surprisingly enough, disenclined to wanting him to let go.

Briefly, she told him of her dream.

"How strange," he murmured. "Anya, I envy you--the Clan accepted you so easily into their ranks, you are even an honorary male, equal to the men, because of your totem. I wish I was that lucky. I am a man of mixed spirits. Nothing more. I don't even have a totem to call my own."

"That's not true, Echozar. Don't you know that, after all this time? I grew up knowing you; you are not a hideously ugly man, outside or inside. You are different, but you are unique--it is what makes you you." Anya, almost as unable to tell a lie as her mother, spoke with her usual frank honesty. She pulled back and looked into his eyes. "And I would not have you any other way, totem or no."

Her face was turned trustingly up at him, her special blue eyes sparkling with the knowledge that she was not lying. It made his heart race; he could not know that her own heart rate had picked up considerable speed to match his own rhythm.

He had to let go; it was simply too much. He eased away as to not give her the wrong impression, until he was once agian only clutching her upper arms.

"Oh, Anya," he whispered. "I swear you are my special Donii. You always know how to make me feel better about myself."

"I only try to make you see what's already in here," she reached out and tapped his bare chest. "Because it is what you are, Echozar. We're both human."

Afraid he was going to say something too revealing of his feelings for her, he noticed, at that moment, that the hand she had tapped him with had her smaller fingers curled around something. "What are you holding, Anya?" he asked, trying to distract her.

"I am?" she said, then turned her hand over and uncurled her fingers. All blood fled her face at what she held.

Lying in her palm was a small feather, purely white, with a smaller black mark shaped like a Cave Bear.

****

"It's a sign, from my totem and from the Mother," she whispered, breathing hard. "It's the feather the bird, the Donii, gave me in my dream! It's telling me to continue on my current path, that it is the right one--I'm sure of it!!!"

"You carry such signs in your amulet, don't you?" Echozar pointed out. Anya nodded.

"Then maybe you should put it there, for safekeeping," he advised logically. "Such a sign should not be taken lightly, especially from the Mother."

She nodded, and obeyed him. She fumbled for her amulet around her neck, emptying the contents: Her red ochre, the iron pyrite her mother insisted on her having as a symbol of her Medicine Woman status, A cave bear tooth from the bear she had killed long ago, and the piece of clear quartz crystal that had finalized her decision to become One Who Serves. To this, she added the feather before drawing the pouch closed with trembling fingers.

"I wonder what Mother will say," she gestured. "Echozar--thank you. Thank you for being there for me."

Both individuals were much astonished when, without thinking, she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. It was still dark enough, and he was grateful for this, that the darkness hid the brilliant flush that stained his face and spread.

"Y-you're welcome," he stammered, praying to Doni with all his might she would not notice as he quickly rose from the bed. Except for Joplaya, she was the first to have kissed him like that--with meaning, without a fatherly affection like he got from his children's kisses. Even if she had meant nothing by it, except as a way of thanks, it would be something he never forgot. "Go back to sleep, Anya."

****

Sleep eluded Anya for most of the rest of that night. What had posessed her to act as she had done with him? Lately, she knew her feelings for him had changed, but she had been to shy to really explore it. Of course she had always loved him, but it had been the childish sort of love a girl would feel for a family member. Last year, she could hardly stand his touch because her body seemed to tell her something else, something she had never expected to feel for someone like him.

*Is Doni trying to tell me something else?* she wondered, seeing the faint outline of Echozar back in his own bunk. *I have never felt this way before for anyone. But....Echozar? Oh, Doni! Help me find my way! If these feelings are real, help me to find out what should be done!*

****

She had one more dream that night, when sleep at last found her again. Ursus was again walking through a fog, but she felt herself in the Bear's body. Alongside the bear was a dirk-toothed tiger--about the rarest, fiercest cat of them all. She sensed an underlying bond between the two of them, but she did not understand why. She awoke with a start, and clutched her totem. Her spirits had spoken to her again, but again, she was uncomprehending of the message. She would have to follow her own heart in order to discover the meaning of her symbolic visions.

****

As the days passed, the Summer Meeting of the Zelandonii loomed ahead. People started to arrive and set up Camp near the Ninth Cave, where it was being hosted for the summer.

A large portion of the Clan were making themselves scarce for the first weeks of the meeting with a large hunt planned. As an honorary male, Anya knew she had the option of joining them, but she had too much to do here this summer, so she had declined.

Ayla had observed that the Clan were really keeping their word to Anya about her status. Her totem and her skills, as well as her background, had elevated her to a status at least equaling that of Mog-Ur. It was still offensive to their customs to even consider a woman being a Mog-Ur, but she was as respected as if she was one.

They also had to accept the fact she had been trained as a Holy Woman, and had the power of the spirits in any case. With her totem guiding her, she was too powerful for them to dare consider otherwise.

So it was only some of the women, younger children, and a few hunters, that were staying behind to protect the Clan. Among them were Durc and Brun. Anya knew they were nervous about all the Zelandonii being near their cave, they did not want anything to go wrong, to shatter the building peace between their cultures.

"I don't think you will be harmed," she gestured to them as they stood on a ridge, watching a couple of Camps arrive. "There will be a lot of them, and a few children might tease, but that's the way children are. I doubt they would mean any harm by it. But outside of the Ninth Cave, I am not sure how many could talk to you."

Brun looked thoughtful. "I am starting to understand a little of your language," he gestured. "I cannot speak it like you do--your kind can make sounds I never could duplicate. Durc could, though. But it may be in the Clan men's interest to learn your ways of speaking at any rate." He rubbed his bearded chin. "What is your ancient language known to all Others? The one besides your everyday language?"

"We don't have one," she gestured. "We don't have memories for a whole language, like you do. Children learn our language by repetition until they know what the word means and how to use it."

"Then how do you talk with distant others of your kind?" he gestured, not quite able to hide his surprise. "Wouldn't communication be difficult?"

"At first. We have to learn the seperate languages. Although gestures and body languages help, but the body languages of the Others is nowhere near the complexity language of the Clan--it's not even a full language. Mother not only learned Zelandonii from Jondalar, she learned Mamutoi, Sharamudoi, and others. The Lazandonii were originally Zelandonii, The father of Jondalar's hearth started his own Cave, and his own people. They still attend Zelandonii summer meetings, though. So their language is the same. I do think it would help you to learn Zelandonii as the Ninth Cave has learned your language, even if you cannot speak it. Durc could work on it, though--his whole Hearth could."

I believe it is a good idea," mused Brun. "It is not the Clan way, but I have come to understand over the years that the Others are human like we are. We must work together and learn to overcome our differences. Such as--what is it your kind customarily says when you part company with another?"

"We say 'good-bye'," she explained. "It is a courtesy. So is another concept the Clan does not have--thank you."

Brun raised an eyebrow at her.

"It connotates obligation, in a way," she explained. "It expresses gratitude. If someone gave you a shank of meat as a gift, you would say thank you."

She could see both Durc and Brun struggling to understand the concept; it was simply not the Clan way.

"Do you have a gesture that means either of those?" asked Durc.

Anya nodded. "A nonverbal way to say goodbye is this," she demonstrated a wave. "Thank you--body language usually says that, the gratitude in the person's face, for example. But," she deonstrated pulling her cupped hand straight downwards from below her chin a ways, "this is a more formal way of saying it. with or without words."

Brun was starting to grasp what she said; he was overall grateful that their strange word-sounds were starting to make more sense as time went on. After he had left, Durc still stood beside his sibling as they watched the Camps arrive.

"I have never seen so many people," he gestured, seeing the huge crowd of hundreds below.

"There will be more in the days to come. The Mother Festival will commence soon, it will last periodically during the meeting."

To her surprise, he chuckled. "Why have a meeting, just for the sake of...." he stopped, and made a certain signal. She realized he did not know quite how to phrase it. "Why do that? Can't a man just command a woman to do that?"

"Absolutely not," she gestured with clipped movements. "It is forbidden."

"But why? Don't your women submit at all? Are all of you out-of-control females? You hunt, live equal to men, aren't really docile--it doesn't make sense."

"We are a group of equals," she felt herself bristling. "A man cannot dominate a woman, the Mother frowns on it. Forcing a woman against her will just to relieve a man's needs--there is almost no worse abomination than that. The punishment is severe, too."

He looked at her quizzically.

"It ranges from cave to cave," she began smartly, "But it can go from banishment, to death, to--" she made a gesture that made it clear what body part would be removed. "In other words, Durc, men actually respect women."

"As if I don't respect my mate?" he looked offended. "I respect, and love, Ura as no other! She has given me two wonderful sons, and a daughter to fill my Hearth. But she is a woman, and Clan ways are clear."

"What about me, then?" she gestured with undercurrents of anger in her movements. "What do you see me as?"

"Clan ways traditionally would label you as an out-of-control female, whose connection to the spirit world is too strong. Your control of the spirit realm is so stotic, what if it gets out of control? Women have weaker wills."

Anya looked at him, and he saw pain flicker across her face. "Are you sorry I joined your Clan, Durc?" she asked quietly. "Just because I am an out-of-control, Others-born woman? Does it matter to you at all that I am your sibling?"

"Of course it matters to me that you are my sibling. So what? The only remarkable thing in that is that you were born when our mother was a spirit. And yet you are flesh and blood--you are still a woman."

Blood rushed to her face, she was clearly upset. "I will not obey you against my better judgement, Durc! Even if you tried to force me to bend to your will because I am female, I still would not do it. I am an honorary male among the Clan, and I am also a woman of the Otehrs. I have the spirit of Ursus on my side. When I am upset, he gets upset. Would you displease him, and harm your people?"

She saw the blood flee his face. The image of her riding Ursus, having the bear obey her will, came back with all-too-familiar startling clarity. No indeed, he could not risk it.

That she was a female galled him, she was so skilled not only in a woman's ways, she was skilled in the ways of a man. He liked her, and he wished she were a man so she would be easier to talk to. The problem was, it was difficult for him to see past the fact she was a woman--an incredibly ugly woman at that. Her only favorable features, to his Clan eyes, were her haunting eyes and hair.

Anya had seen him turn his head, she sensed there was more to his former words than he had actually said. "This woman would request what her sibling is thinking," she gestured after returning his attention to her.

He owed her some sort of explanation; he did want to show her that he did respect her--a lot. "It's just that--women don't hunt," he began lamely, struggling for the words to express herself. "You are skilled at what you do, whether you perform an activity of a man or a woman. Your hunting skills are top, I enjoy pitting mine against yours, and hunting with you. I just--wish you were a man! It would be so easier to talk to you if you--weren't so different. I am Clan, it is so hard to see past that fact. Not to mention my upbringing forbids women hunting. I remember in my babyhood our mother hunting--but then she was gone; just gone."

When he looked into her violet eyes again, she had softened considerably. "You are Clan, Durc, but you are also of the Others, like me. You could learn to see past the differences," she encouraged. "You grew up different yourself, didn't you? You were thought to be ugly because you have that bony knob beneath your mouth, like mine. Your forehead raises high, like mine. You are as tall as I am. You can make our word-sounds and have our straight legs. I think you do know what it is to be different. This--us--I would want it to be only one more difference for you to accept."

Reflexively, his hands went up to touch his vaulted forehead, like hers, his other features that his sibling shared. He had grown up with plenty of differences--he was the best runner in the Clan. His strengths were the sling and bola, because of his throwing-adapted arms. Not to mention he was the tallest man in the Clan. His mate was like him, and their children.

"You are right," he gestured at last. "I have always been different, like you, even though I was accepted by the Clan. So is my mate; our children. We will always be different, it is going to be hard arranging mates for them. But--I know it can be done. I will try harder, Anya, to understand. You are a good sibling--and a good woman. This man is proud."

For a moment, he smiled, a wide smile that matched her own, making her feel just a little warmer as her brother fully accepted her at last.

****

Much of the remaining Clan were very nervous around the curious Zelandonii; they kept in the confines of the Cave and only went out when they needed to. The only one who frequented the Ninth Cave was Durc.

Durc kept his promise to Anya. After their talk, he tried harder to keep his mind open about the differences around him. It may have been hard for his kind to change, but he had the forebrain of the Others, and he was able, upon reflection, to accept it.

What he did not like was the attention the Zelandonii women seemed to pay him. Most of the women knew Ayla well, she and the likes of Echozar had been the driving force behind their acceptance of Clan kind. Durc might have been ugly, but with his straight legs and body, and his muscular build, many of the women were curious enough to ignore his unappealing face just to try and get at his body.

However, when his sibling explained--with some amusement, he noted--the traditional female approaches, he balked. A woman of the Clan was subtle, and coy when she indicated a desire to "share pleasures" with a man.

These women--ugly women, too--hung all over them en, pressed mouths together outside of Hearth boundaries, fumbled, and groped in a manner gross to him. Needless to say, he had little desire to participate.

Anya herself had little interest in the acitivity. Sure, it did not feel bad or anything. There just seemed to be more to do than a bunch of sweaty grunting. She only occassionally auqiesced at Mother festivals in order to keep favor with the Mother's decree that she share the Gift. Until she was certain of her lifemate, sharing Pleasures was only a pastime, nothing more.

Her parents held a similar belief. Even after sixteen years of being mated, they still chose mostly each other, unless they became a little heady with intoxicated brews or other senses overrided their sense of judgement. But they knew that they were supposed to share the Gift, at least at festival time, so neither one could begrudge the other if they chose someone else for a few hours. But it also pleased them both to know the other's first choice were their own loves.

****

Later, Anya could not quite hide her amusement as she watched her poor brother trying to fend off several curious women who had taken a sudden interest in his muscular body and wanted to see more.

"No, thank you, not now," he said aloud, like Anya had advised him to do.

Poor Durc! Anya mused, watching him. She could tell he was fighting an inborn urge to discipline the women for being so....unfemenine, according to his upbringing. She was glad he did not, and she was glad he had picked up enough of their language to tell them thier advances were not wanted.

Besides, even if he could find somebody, besides his mate, that he would consider sharing pleasures with, not all of them would understand the signal, and most would find it offensive to act like an obedient slave.

Her lips pressed together in a futile attempt to stifle a laugh. Durc, and perhaps his sons, would be, most likely, the only ones that the women would find attractive enough to consider sharing pleasures with. Perhaps, in time, once they got used to these strange women and their even stranger advances, they would learn to relax and enjoy themselves.

Finally, Durc managed to shake the women off. He almost automatically looked towards Anya, saw her suppressing laughter at him. He gritted his teeth, stomping over to her.

"I do not see what is so humorous about this," he gesticulated with clear irritation. His sibling was like all the rest! And what was worse, he could do nothing to correct the insolence she was showing him, either.

"What do I see in their ugly faces and bodies!" he snapped. "They are mostly taller than me, Durc, the tallest man in the Clan! How could I possibly be moved to...to relieve my needs with them?"

Anya only tried to quiet her mirth for his sake.

But some things you just cannot hide from a Clan man.

****

"Are you absolutely *sure* I cannot persuade you to consider otherwise, Anya?" Ayla pleaded one last time. "It's so dangerous! Zelandoni and I both have mates who love us with unswerving dedication. You do not!"

"Don't you think that your love, and Jondalar's, would be enough to draw me out of the void?" she asked practically.

"Oh, child, I hope so!!!" whispered Ayla, tears in her eyes. "The ceremony is in a couple of days, child! I do so wish you had a soulmate to help you on your journey!!!"

"I must do this, Momma. You are with child, I refuse to let you risk your life or your unborn baby in this feat. I must take your place this year, Zelandoni cannot do it alone. You and I are the only ones of our kind privy to the secret preparation of the root; not even Zelandoni knows. Does Uba know?"

"She knows, I taught her shortly before I was cursed. And although I thought Creb would never again allow the ceremony to be performed, it seems he after all shared it with Goov. But you and I are the only others with this deadly secret on our souls."

"And yet Zelandoni joins you every year." Anya sighed. "Momma....Zelandoni is like Marthona to me--the mother of the father of my spirit, a close kin relative. She isn't, but I care about her that much. I don't want her hurt. I know neither do you or Jondalar--even though you both have a past with her."

"My first few times around her were strained," Ayla agreed. "Because of who she had been in Jondalar's life, I feared I would be terribly jealous. It still seems a miracle we developed such a close friendship. I even know she has shared pleasures with Jondalar once or twice during Mother festivals--but I am glad it is not the way it once was between them."

"I plan to go, Momma," Anya confirmed a final time. "I will be careful, and listen to Zelandoni. I just know I must do this. I don't know what the Clan will say--Uba will surely recognize what I will be doing--but I know it must be done. Remember my dream?"

Ayla paled and nodded. Anya had told her that morning, holding out the feather as mute proof to her testimony. It could not be denied. She sighed and rested her hands upon the swelling of her abdomen. "Child, be careful, that is all I can tell you. Do what feels right, listen to Zelandoni if you manage to successfully be drugged, and for heaven's sake, don't allow yourself to get lost, lest your spirit be stolen and never return!"

Ayla could not emphsize this enough.

****

Zelandoni stood on the cliff face, hearing the soft footsteps of the young woman she had summoned from the camp below.

"You wished to see me, Zelandoni?" asked Anya with a swift bow of respect. Zelandoni looked serious, and she had a feeling why.

"So you will be joining me on the Woman's Ceremony this year?" she asked quietly. Anya nodded with conviction.

"I thought you might insist, considering your mother's Blessing," murmured Zelandoni, touching the girl's head and raising her eyes to meet the First among Those Who Served. "You are prepared, then, for the extreme danger you are going to put yourself into?"

"I only know I must do this, Zelandoni," answered Anya with certainty. "No matter the risk."

"I know you do," Zelandoni conceded softly, as was her way. "But you have no mate, child, at least one that is obvious to your mind. I advise you to check your heart first--and bring yourself close to the Mother before the ceremony commences in a couple of days. That means sharing her Gift. I believe you have resisted so far this year?"

Anya blushed, but nodded.

"Considering you, I thought that might be the case. I would advise you to get in the most favorable positions with the Mother first, so She will be compelled to protect you on the journey we will undertake. It is Her way, Her wish."

"Understood, Zelandoni," Anya blushed and backed away from the woman with lowered eyes, a manner of utmost respect. "I will try to share Her Gift. I do not want to displease or dishoner the Mother."

"Anya."

"Yes, Zelandoni?" Anya paused to listen, for she suspected she would be on the recieving end of one of Zelandoni's cryptic messages.

She was not disappointed.

"Your inner flame may be only a glowing coal now, but when your heart flares, so will the inner fire that you keep so carefully hidden. The source of the tinder will have seemed like water to you at first, but your own heart will grasp the source and feed the flames to raging heights."

Anya blinked. She had been taught some of a One Who Serve's types of cryptic speakings, but this seemed a bit beyond her.

*Or....is it so personal I am afraid to listen?* she thought. Shaking her head in confusion, she murmured farewells to Zelandoni and walked backwards out of her presence.

****

The exotic smokes from the campfires filled the air, stinging Echozar's nose as he crept through the camps towards the central fire. It was time for the nightly dances, and although he never participated, it was a pastime to watch, better than hiding out in the cave and doing nothing at all.

Anya heard the drumming begin from where she was inside her parent's hearth, getting ready. She did not really want to, but she knew better than to go against Zelandoni. If it meant seducing some man in order to please the Mother, then so be it.

She could see her reflection in one of the rare, shiny lava rocks that her father had traded a considerable sum for a few years ago. Her hair was completely loose, save for an intricately beaded leather circlet on her forehead. Her new tunic, a special one reserved for just such sacred occasions, was also highly beaded by her own hands. The leather shirt was sleeveless and heavily fringed, belting at her waist. The leather was dyed red, a color, she mused, that would shock any Clan man who saw her wearing it. The tight leggings were the same way.

"Come on, Anya!" Jerika called from outside. "The dances are already started! Don't be a hideaway--come join us! We'll find somebody for you!"

Anya smiled. Jerika had a few Clan characteristics--high cheekbones, a barely visible brow ridge, black hair, and bronze Clan skin, but she was so merry and high-spirited, and more of her features made up for this, she was still considered a beautiful woman with the long, flowing black hair. She could have any man she wanted, and she often took her pick. She was almost fifteen, anyway, and seriously considering settling down soon and getting Blessed soon--if she wasn't already. Anya had not noticed her complaining about her Moon time this month.

"I am coming!" she called out to the girl. She heard a giggle, and Jerika's sillhouette was gone as quickly as it had come.

She straightened her circlet one more time before leaving the Hearth boundaries. Once outside, night was falling. She rather hoped the darkness would hide her approach; she was wrong.

"You're just in time, Anya!" Jerika cried, coming over and grabbing her hand. "It's one of the dances for unmated women. I think you certainly fall into that category."

"Um...." Anya did not quite know what to say.

"Oh, don't be a spoilsport! Come on!!!" Reluctantly, she let the girl pull her forward. "It'll be fun, I promise."

There were already several other young women in the circle around the bonfire when Jerika and Anya joined them; cheerfully, they made room.

The tone of the music changed, a mixture of lighthearted flutes and deep, serious rhythms could be heard. It was music for seduction, Anya mused. And although she knew Zelandonii dances by heart, she sitll felt uncomfortable.

Still, she had to admit the music had a hypnotic effect. It was slow at first, the thrumming rhythm making its way into her blood and, without her own conviction, she felt her feet lift and her body begin to move. Slowly, she started to turn, moving to the inner steps that seemed to take her will from her.

Her heart began to race madly as the music sped up. Unbidden, her gaze fixated on the firelight, sending her into a hypnotic frenzy. To her dazed surprise, she felt a slow heat begin in her body--a strange thirst she was not accostomed to.

She had not even drank the raw drinks that were avalible, those said to enhance the body's senses. It was so strange--she had felt it before, albiet fleetingly--and only with one person that....she could not concentrate....she was too dizzy...one person that...

Still, she danced, waiting, wanting, hoping.....for what?

****

Oh, this was torture! Echozar knew he would regret this, seeing her dancing there, his special Donii-spirit, taunting him, though she appeared to not know it. Her body whirling nearby him, her long golden curls flowing around her like some unearthly spirit. Most of all, though, her eyes, even when unfocused from his own, drew him like a siren!

The temptation was too much! The hypnotic music was getting to him, too, and he would have risen to leave. But when he tried, standing up....he felt rooted to the spot. Other men around him were coming forward, to claim the woman that had caught their particular fancy.

The rules for such a dance were, if it was casual, the man moved away after a few minutes. If it was going to lead to something else, a close embrace showed it. And if another man wanted to intercede, he could only do so when the body language still said she was avalible.

A strange, gripping sensation tore at his insides when he noticed another man come up and claim Anya. It was Josyn, a distant relation to hers--he was not one of her forbidden close-cousins, in other words.

*Move!* his brain cried to him. *Claim her now!*

*She won't want to!* another part of him cried. *You are too ugly, Echozar! She could never see you that way!*

*But....how could I know unless I did anything?* She had often told him she did not see him as ugly, she trusted him completely. He was not forbidden to her, for they shared no blood or mixing of the spirits. He loved her unconditionally, and he knew that she would be his only second chance.

Josyn was obviously trying to get Anya into a closer embrace; and she was actively resisting. Echozar was beyond shocked when her violet gaze somehow found his....and he could see her begging.

*Help me,* her eyes said. *He is not the one.*

It had to be wrong, but the pleading look in her eyes, and her trust in him, spurred him into action. His footsteps moved him closer to the dancing pair.

****

He was coming! Anya could not believe it. Echozar? She had not meant to lock eyes with his, she had not even seen him in the crowd. But far better him than the uppity Josyn!

She saw Echozar tap Josyn's shoulder, the gesture that said "my turn." The young man frowned, but he had sensed that Anya was not in the mood. Reluctantly, he moved away.

Anya's eyes closed as she felt Echozar's muscluar arm surround her waist from behind. She relaxed even as the tempo increased.

However, once his touch registered over her dazed senses, the fire in her body exploded. She could feel his rapidly-punding heart from his chest pressed against her back; his hot breathing was warm on her head. Her own breathing picked up, and she turned around to face him. To her shock, she saw the burning look in his eyes.

He had no control over his actions, not anymore. He had felt that his senses would get the better of him if he did this, he did not want to break Anya's trust in him. He was shocked beyond belief when she turned, and he saw her violet gaze smoldering with a fire he had never before seen in her eyes. The very look sent his blood boiling.

Their gazes locked, and Anya suddenly could almost see entirely into his soul. Looking in his eyes, she almost gasped to see something in them....a path, a connection that somehow matched her own. It was deep down, past the fire that smoldered in his Clan eyes....somewhere, deep, where only the spirits could join. It caused a peculiar sensation of drowning, of a reaching out to him to become her lifeline; someone to pull her home.

Unconsciously, her own spirit reached out. In that instant, she understood Zelandoni's words. Her body was on fire, Echozar's touch had ignited her senses....but not only that, he was igniting her soul as well, a place she had wondered if any man would ever reach.....a place she wondered if she even had.

*Can a bond be forged....just from reading another's soul?* she thought dimly. *Or am I feeling something my heart and spirit have always known....and my mind is just discovering? Is this...* she felt the word slip into her thoughts to stay. *....Love?*

*How is this possible?* Echozar's own mind wondered. *I have loved her for a long time....is my special Donii-woman making herself completely known to me? Am I worthy of such a person?*

Sudden conviction surged through both individuals when he felt her arm slide around him in the manner indicating that she was closed from other men for tonight.

Echozar could not belive that, the sweet, pure-hearted girl that he had loved and dreamed about so much, who had drawn him out of his lonely depression, wanted him as much as he did her. It did not seem real, like some dream, but he certainly felt very real when she lifted her face to his, her fingers trailing on his shaven face.

"Echozar..." the word was more than a plea, it was an offering of herself. The word reverberated in his ears, straight down into his soul, firing his conviction. No longer in control of his own facilities, his mouth lowered to hers.

The flames of the central fire roared, but it seemed to be an insignificant spark compared to the sudden surge of heat the one gesture of meeting lips produced. Inwardly, Anya gasped; she had not thought it possible her desires could be surged to such heights...and out of one kiss! She did not give a damn that Echozar looked different, was of Clan and Others blood.

She only knew that.....his soul was what hers needed, her missing piece. It was too strong for her to doubt; when his lips moved from hers, she felt a terrible sense of tearing in her heart. She moaned faintly and did not open her eyes, urging his mouth to hers again.

She had not resisted him! He could sense her desire, and it shocked him to know he had caused it within her. When she pulled him back to her, he thought he would lose control right then.

His hand moved to cup her chin, both his fingers and his tongue working to gently urge her lips apart. As her arms slithered around his neck, she did not think to refuse him; she couldn't.

*Echozar...* Dimly, he was surprised. Had she spoken? Or had it been....something else? Her mouth was molded firmly to his, she could not have spoken...could she?

The pair were not even aware they had stopped. Hesistantly, she ventured her tongue past her lips to explore his mouth; she was not used to such deep kissing, she was almost novice at it. One of his hands became entangled in her hair as he held her mouth firmly to his. He could not help himself, she was rapidly driving him over the edge. His tongue slid past her own questing one to find the sharp seam of her white teeth, tracing her cleft palate, and further.

Neither Anya nor Echozar could stand it anymore. She felt him tug her out of the dance ring, and she followed him. She did not know how they managed to make it back to the Cave, to her own hearth and her own bed, but it was not something either felt like contemplating at the moment. All they knew was that the lure of an impossible fulfillment was too strong to deny, and the end result was, indeed, truly a gift from the Mother herself.

****

Ayla had seen Echozar move in on her daughter, and had seen, too, how her child had become almost drugged. Ayla could not recall ever seeing Anya act like that before, even at other Mother festivals, and she smiled in pride. The way Anya was reacting was the way of a woman who had truly found her soulmate; not just a quick joyride from a casual encounter. Her twinkling gaze met Jondalar's, she could tell his thoughts were along similar lines.

"Success, do you think?" she whispered as she reached for his hand.

"I think so," he murmured, squeezing her fingers. "If he feels compelled to call her back from the Root Ceremony, we'll know for sure. But I am almost completely certain."

"In any case, let's not go to our Hearth tonight," she whispered. "Echozar's other two children of his Hearth are busy tonight, and I know our own secluded spot. Let's leave them alone for tonight."

Her teasing smile and smoldering glance caused him to agree quickly.

****

The morning dawn caused Anya to awaken with a start. For a moment, she blinked, unsure of where she was. She suddenly--and clearly--sensed someone beside her. She turned her head, surprised to see who it was--then she relaxed.

Echozar. Last night came flooding back, and she felt a happy warmth flood her body. If this was love, it was certianly worth it!

*Why.....does it feel this way?* she wondered. *I had no idea....love was so wonderful. Not just making love--though that helps--but the finding of a true soulmate--the one who's been before me all this time?*

No wonder his gaze had often been tortured when he looked at her, she realized. She had gotten the sense last night of just how badly, and just how long, he had wanted her....not just her body, but her spirit as well, to claim as his.

Then, too, he had often spoken about how he would never take another mate because no woman could possibly want him, as ugly as he was. And yet, although she had repeatedly told him she saw through that, he had not thought her feelings could extend beyond friendship.

*Now, Echozar, you know that it was wrong to assume so little of yourself,* she thought, closing her eyes and snuggling against him. *You are my soulmate--and I plan to keep you.*

****

He could hardly believe how he was waking up. When he opened his eyes to the early morning son, he automatically glanced downwards. Her face was peaceful, and a smile hovered about her lips. Something about her, though, told him she was awake.

"You going to move, or what?" he teased. "Don't pretend to be asleep."

"How'd you know I was awake?" he heard her mumble through a smile. She sighed and snuggled against him again.

He chuckled and kissed her forehead, glad for her silent reassurance that she did not regret last night. "Well, for one thing, your stomach." he pointed out. "You may be my special Donii-woman, but you still get hungry like the rest of us."

"Mm...true," she murmured. "Anybody else in the Cave yet?"

"Only a few other couples," he answered. "They must have come in after we did. We are the only ones at Jondalar's Hearth." Your parents sort of made themselves scarce, and I don't see the children from my Hearth anyplace."

She grinned. "Good," she said, reaching up to lock her arms around his neck. "Echozar....I love you."

She saw his eyes widen, then--to her shock--fill with tears. "You don't know how often I have dreamed of you saying that," he murmured. "I've loved you this way for a long time, Anya, and I will love you for the rest of my days. Anya--thank you."

She giggled, even as her own eyes misted over. "I hope you can thank me better than that," she teased, kissing his mouth in a maddening fashion. "Think we have time?"

"Probably," he assured her, gathering her close. "I don't think we'll notice at any rate."

****

Later that morning, Anya was busy searching the nearby woods for antelope sage, which she was getting desperately low in. It was not near her moon time yet, but better safe than sorry.

She also had to hurry; the woman's root ceremony was tonight, and she had to be ready. Again she repeated, in her mind, the exact details her mother had described to her, the mixing of the root, the adding of the hot water. She had dared not make it except for this event, it was too sacred.

It scared Anya, to know she would be responsible for making it this year, but it had to be done. She was simply not going to allow her mother to do it; not in her condition.

*Plus, I need to expand my knowledge of the spirit realms,* she thought tiredly. Soft footsteps behind her made her turn in surprise.

"You have chosen well, child," she saw Zelandoni say calmly from where she looked down at her. "Echozar is a good man, and he has needed someone. You are the best person for him."

"I know..." Anya mused. "You were right, Zelandoni, about...what you said...he ignited not only my heart, but my soul. At first he was water to me, because I would never had considered him...he did not seem that type....but I was wrong...and I am glad."

"The Mother is pleased," Zelandoni said with dignity. "You may have found yourself worthy of her protection for the ceremony. Are you prepared for tonight?"

"I will never be fully prepared for what can happen," Anya answered wisely. "It is a realm of pure unknown, especially for me. Every year, Mother says it is different, more mysterious, and never the same thing twice. And the danger is incredible, can take our spirits at any moment. One cannot be fully prepared for such a circumstance."

The Holy Woman actually chuckled. "Your wisdom is well beyond your years, daughter. Perhaps you should strive more to rise through the Zelandoni's ranks--one day you could be First."

"I am not sure I want to be," answered Anya. "I sense perhaps...a similar purpose, but it has yet to fully reveal itself to me. I just know....Ursus has plans. Doni has plans. The Clan was brought here for a purpose, but I don't know why. I only know...I will find out in time."

"With that type of wisdom, and listening to your own heart, you would make a good First," said Zelandoni quietly. "Your totem chose well."

When she left, Anya breathed a sigh of relief. Not even the First knew the secret of the golden thread and antelope sage. She knew, and of course Ayla.....and Jondalar. It had taken years for Ayla to admit to him why she did not get pregnant again. He had been beyond shocked at first, Anya clearly recalled it. But when faced with the alternative of losing Ayla forever from a childbearing death, he quickly saw the light. But it was a secret among the three, and Anya planned for it to remain that way...until she had a child of her own.

****

The sun was beginning to set; it was time. Even the Clan, who had heard rumors of an important event involving Spirits was going to commence tonight, were creeping out of their own Cave and watching from nearby. They knew that nobody would stop them, but it made Anya fearful of how their reaction would be.

Inside her Hearth, she stripped until she wore nothing. She reached for a single leather blanket and wrapped it around her, using a thong to tie it closed at the top, above her chest. It was very short, just to her upper thighs. Her hair was completely loose, devoid of any decoration. The leather blanket was plain, too, without marking, unremarkable in any way. One had to be modest when approaching the Spirit Realm in such a fashion, according to Zelandoni.

The butterflies in her stomach increased as she picked up her otterskin medicine pouch and the ceremonial bowl. She was risking her life doing this, she knew, and yet, she was compelled to follow this path; she knew she had to, whether the Mother called her back then or not. It had a purpose, she sensed it.

A space from around the ceremonial fire had been cleared, a tent erected. As quietly as possible, she slipped inside the tent as people started to gather for the Woman's Ceremony.

Anya felt her fear increase, yet she forced calm into her demeanor. She was not going to do this acting like a simpering fool.

She started, however, when she felt a gentle hand touch her shoulder. She blinked, and saw Zelandoni giving her an encouraging smile. The woman was dressed as she was, and suddenly, Anya felt a little bit better.

There was a whisper of air as the tent curtain moved aside, Anya saw her mother enter.

"Just some last-moment encouragement," she heard her mother whisper as she reached out and hugged her, hard. "May the Mother protect you, my daughter. Walk with Ursus."

"I will try to come back, Mother, I promise," she whispered, hugging her back. Her mother felt like a lifeline.

"Just follow Zelandoni's guide," Ayla advised. "And if you can sense someone calling you, move towards the sound. It is all I can tell you. Otherwise you may become lost."

Anya nodded, and Ayla smiled at her one more time, her flint-colored eyes bright with tears of pride and fear mixed. The women hugged one more time before they parted.

When the drums began to beat, and a Woman Who Served began to utter a strange chant, Anya knew it was time.

Even before she moved, the hypnotic tone of the chant set her mind flooding with endorphins--almost a drugging, dazed effect. She picked up the bowl and her otterskin pouch, and followed a serene Zelandoni outdoors, to where she did not even seem to see a whole crowd of people staring at them.

Zelandoni went forward, raising her arms towards the setting sun. She began a simple chant, communicating with the spirits, begging them to guide the novice, Anya, who was to join her today in this dangerous feat. She invoked the protection of all surrounding benevolent spirits, asking their blessing, asking the Mother to smile on them both.

Out of the corner of her dazed eyes, something stood out to Anya. It was Joharran, who was uneasily translating Zelandoni's words for the watching Clan. She knew that this would not stir well with them, she prayed they would understand this was a woman's ceremony, not a man's.

Anya stepped forward, eyes glazed. Gracefully, she lowered herself to the ground, closing her eyes and clutching her amulet, invoking the protection of Ursus. The beat and chant in the background became slower, more dizzying, but it only served to focus her mind for the course she must take.

Just vaguely, she was aware of a girl, untouched by a man's essence and lifeforce, run forward and place a pouch of hot water beside her, then run back into the crowd, scared by her brush with the spirits.

Anya arched her back, raising her arms to the sky. In a chanting language used by Those Who Served, she again asked the Mother and Ursus to guide her fingers. Slowly, graceully, she lowred her arms and her head in a submissive gesture, then reached for the skin of water next to her.

She poured it into the sacred medicine bowl until it was full. The water was still hot enough to steam dangerously, Anya didn't care. Slowly, dazed still, she reached for her otterskin bag, and drew out a special red pouch she otherwise would have never touched.

The tempo slowed, and her heart rate shot up by response as she drew out the corpse-colored roots that denoted death if used wrongly. Swallowing her fear a last time, concentrating on her focus, she placed them in her mouth.

She did not have Clan jaws, it was much harder than she expected. It took quite a bit of chewing, her teeth struggled to break down the tough fibers. It was an even harder effort for her to avoid swallowing any of the potent juices.

On a subconscious level, she sensed the deep shock of the watching Clan. They knew, they knew what she was doing with that root.

At last, she sufficently judged that the tough fibers of the root had broken down enough. The taste was horrible, anyway. However, she did not consider this as she leaned over and spat the roots into the bowl of water and started to mix it with her fingers.

The liquid turned white, Anya did the other measures to the liquid before she deemed it ready for use. Within a short time, the root dissolved completely.

Picking up the bowl, Anya rose to her feet. Still dazed, she turned to face Zelandoni. The older woman stopped, carefully removing the bowl from her hands. She sensed the Woman Who Served take a deep breath, and drain half the bowl in one draught.

Just as silently, she handed the bowl back to Anya. Her very life lay in the contents of the bowl, Anya knew there was no turning back now.

Tipping the bowl up to her lips, she drained the bitter dregs to the last drop.

For a few seconds, nothing seemed to happen. She felt nothing, wondering if she had done something wrong.

Then Anya's eyes met Zelandoni's, and the tempo in the background changed. A wild tremor siezed the women's bodies, they lost control of their bodies' movements. When the scenes around her whirled, Anya sensed that it was her doing the whirling, and Zelandoni, not the other way around. After almost a full minute of this dizzying dance, the two women collapsed suddenly, and did not move again.

****

When Anya regained any sense of self, she was somehow aware that she was not in her body--at least, not in the conventional sense. She felt disembodied, surrounded by a complete, terrifying sense of darkness.

Alone! She was alone! This darkness pressed in from all sides...it wasn't just dark, it was an absence of light. She could not even feel herself breathe, she was sure she was dead.

*I don't know what to do!*

A sudden presence appeared next to her, she sensed a familiar spirit touch her own. *Do not be afraid, child, you are not alone.*

*Zelandoni!* Anya knew somehow that she did not have to speak for the Holy Woman to understand what she wanted to say. *Is this...where are we?*

*We are in the void, child. Don't worry, I won't leave your side. This is a place where a woman has not ventured in countless eons of time, until your Mother breached the taboo. Come, let us explore. Your mother was afraid each time, neither you nor her have to be. I wll be here, try to help you. Come.*

Explore they did.

Anya felt herself growing, expanding, her spirit breaching places within her that she had no idea existed. She felt herself span the gulf in her body and mind, the gulf that would seperate her from Clan--along with the discovery that she was still of the Others at the same time.

Her mind seemed to explode with memories, racial memories she had thought as belonging only to the Clan. But she was not of Clan blood! How could she have racial memories!

*Because,* she heard Zelandoni whisper in her mind, *Others have the racial memories, too, Anya. We have just lost the ability to access them eons ago, they moved into near-oblivion in the deepest recesses of our minds as we lost the need for them. The only glimmer of them being shown is in babyhood. Babies are ruled by instincts, the baby memories. Once they leave the void of babyhood, it is gone forever. The only other instances are in cases of extreme fear, or need, when, as you know, instinct seems to take over. They are so subtle, we do not know they are memories....just impulses. The Mother decided we did not really need them anymore.*

The presence of the Holy Woman again faded, and Anya again felt herself change. She felt herself changing shape, de-evolving, finding herself going backwards in time. It was so shocking, so painful, she lost awareness again.

****

Her next awareness came abruptly. To her shock, she had felt herself go back to the very beginnings of life, untold eons ago, a span of time even she could not comprehend.

She was the first cell, the very first cell that could truly be called alive, floating in an ocean amidst a group of primordial ooze. The sun, the surface, was her deadly enemy, she was safe, here, deep in the primitive oceans of this newborn world.

Another wave of pain engulfed her as she felt herself begin to trail the paths of evoloution. She was no longer a single-celled organism; she was a simple, multi-celled worm, one of the earliest forms of multicelled life. It's whole simple life seemed to reverberate in her mind before she felt her DNA grow more complex, changing her shape. She grew fins, her gills became more complex as she started to swim, really swim as a primitive fish.

It seemed she experienced this fish's whole life in an instant before she continued to evolve to more complicated creatures. At last, she felt the real beginnings of an amphibious lung grow in a prmitive, still-simple body, and she experienced firsthand the first fiery pain as this amphibian took it's first breath of real air, above the ocean waves in a world that no longer seemed so dangerous and unforgiving.

*This...these are all racial echoes, hidden in my own mind, my own body....and I never knew they existed?* she sent Zelandoni.

*It appears so, Child. These are the secrets we will never consciously 'remember', not even the Clan, unless they take such an in-depth journey themselves.*

She was changing again. Her legs became longer, more able to support her body in this strange new world on land. Further and further she felt her own evoloution. She heard the roar of dinousaurs on the land, felt their triumphs that lasted hundreds of millions of years. She remembered her mother's fossile, she understood suddenly what it was from.

The world of the dinosaurs came to a fiery end in a brilliant shower of hellish fire from the sky. Crouched under a small, protective barrier of forest growth, the primitive being that was Anya stared at the horror around her--her species was destined to survive, a new type of animal destined to take control of the land in the eons to come--a type of animal called a mammal.

Those early mammals had to endure countless eons of terror, beginning with the dinosaurs, and ending with the survivors of the huge rock in the sky.

But it was not for long. Again, Anya's body changed as her DNA continued to evolve. She became bigger, her arms grew, and her legs, as she took to the treetops as one of the first primitive primates.

Even then, her world was a danger, the predators around her were many, and her defenses few. The only thing she really had was a more complex brain than her predators, a beginning of an awareness beyond simple survival.

Again she changed. Her kind moved to living on the forest floor, the forests disappeared. As she had to run more to find shelter, care for her descendents, she had to move faster. Her spine began a painful alignment, her pelvis underwent changes that allowed her to walk upright.

She had scavanged, found the remains of a dead animal. She had picked up a rock to smash the bones for the marrow--and the rock smashed. She felt the sharp edge, and an idea occured to her ever-expanding brain. Thus the first simple tools were devised.

And fire! The miracle of fire caused her kind to wonder at the strange forces beyond their control--the seeds of true sentience were planted, all this knowledge added to the memories that would one day be Clan memories.

For a time, she was Clan. She was alive with the ancient memories that existed in all Clan minds, and the future seemed bright as new things were frequently discovered and applied.

To her shock, suddenly she felt her destiny and that of the Clan's split and divide. Side by side, they continued, existing, but her line gradually lost the memories, and any knowlege of the Clan's existence. Their heads changed shape; as they lost the ability to recall the memories, they had to find ways to make new ones, so the powerful forebrain of the Others developed. They lost more body hair, their eyes changed to water at sadness. They grew taller, their bones thinner. Ideas and change came easier to them then the Clan.

The Clan themselves stayed nearby on this evoloutionary journey, but also stayed unchanging. The Clan and the Others rediscovered each other when the Others moved back into the area of the Memories.

Anya sensed the birth of her own mother, sensed echoes of a language that she could not comprehend. She sensed an earthquake, sensed her mother's terror and how her mind dealt with it by forgetting everything about her first people. She saw, dimly, the Clan of the Cave Bear. They found Ayla, raised her, allowed her to hunt. She saw Durc's birth, her mother's brush with death, and Broud's immature hatred.

*He is so different now,,* she mentally sent Zelandoni.

*Circumstance made him change, child. It was for the best.*

Anya felt her own birth commence; she was a baby wailing her first mighty cry. She sensed her mother almost died, but just pulled through.

She felt her own pain and terror as her totem claimed her, she again sensed it's underlying importance. Still, the true reason eluded her, even then.

A brilliant flash engulfed her as they surged beyond the present into the unknown.

Again, she sensed a tearing, not of her line, but of the clan's. It was thousands of years yet into the future, but she sensed the Clan's line tearing, the majority part ending abruptly. Only one thin, narrow line continued on, and to her surprise, she felt this line entwining tightly with her own destiny. She could not see any visible descendants, if any, she only knew that somehow, her kind's destiny and that of the Clan's would re-merge, and in this way, the Clan would survive.

She did not see her own personal future, she sensed it was being hid from her this time. But the general destiny echoed in her mind, as strange things were made, new frontiers discovered. Strange boxlike things rode along gray strips on round things that made horrible noise and went faster than a horse ever could. People wore strange garments of bright colors she guessed were made from plants. Strange square dwellings appeared, man rode in strange, narrow tubes into space. The earth circled the sun, and other planets circled with the earth, but were far away.

She felt herself tearing again, and she mentally screamed with the sudden pain. The blackness rushed in and engulfed her again, grasping frantically for her spirit and pulling her down, down, into a realm of the dangerous unknown. A hideous unknown where she knew she should not be. It was going to overpower her, and as she struggled, the pull of the darkness promised sure death as her spirit was drawn away from her body.

Just as she would have given up, one small roar echoed in her mind. A wave of powerful love snaked through and grasped, also, for her soul. She dimly heard her name being called over and over again, a pleading love she could not deny. With renewed energy, she followed the voice and the link, even as the void pulled harder. She wanted so much to rest, for just a moment....

Suddenly, Zelandoni was at her side, and Anya felt herself being shoved over a barrier into a different abyss, where she knew no more.

****

Echozar waited on the fringes as the ceremony began. He had never seen it befor, he tended to avoid gatherings like this whenever possible. He only stayed because he knew it was dangerous, and Ayla insisted that it was possible that Anya might need him. Why, he did not know.

He almost swallowed his tongue in shock when they collapsed. They lay there, and nobody moved for several moments....and his own fear grew.

But it soon had reason to double.

"Great Mother!" he spat in total terror as Zelandoni and Anya suddenly turned a dreadful shade of grey-blue, and ceased their periodic twitching.

Ayla went white as the blood fled her face. She knew what it meant. "Someone needs to call them back, now," she whispered. "Go, Echozar, call Anya back. She is in a void where her spirit will be lost forever unless you move fast."

He needed no further urging. He raced up, along with Zelandoni's mate, kneeling over the prone forms of the two Zelandonii women.

Tears of desperate agony filled his eyes as he shook Anya's cold, stiff body and frantically called her name over and over again, not caring who saw him. This woman had his heart, he would die without her rather than travel that long, lonely road alone again!

"Oh, Doni! She seems dead! Great Mother, please don't take her from me!" Echozar held Anya's stiff, blue body, frantically trying to discern a breath and not finding any. He barely felt a heartbeat, one that was not strong enough to keep her alive.

"Oh, Doni!" he silently prayed over and over again. "Please spare her! Take me instead, but save Anya!"

At last, after what had seemed an eternity, but was only a few moments, he felt a shudder take Anya's body. Zelandoni also tremored, and he felt Anya take a deep breath. Her violet eyes opened, completely dazed, and barely focused on him.

"Oh, Mother, she's alive!" he gasped, unable to contain his tears of relief. "Get a robe, quickly--she is as cold as ice!"

Anya's eyes fluttered shut again, and she started to shake with real cold. She could feel nothing else, though--she was so cold. The next thing she knew, she was bundled in heavy fur robes and being placed beside the fire inside the tent. Zelandoni was beside her. There they began to regain their senses as their bodies, with the warmth, began to have the circulation restored to it that had been denied for several minutes.

"Oh, my Anya, my only girl," Ayla was there, hugging her tightly. Gratefully, Anya sank against her mother. "I was so afraid I had lost you. I never wanted to let you do it. You did almost die...Jondalar said you went closer to walking the next world than he ever saw me do. It is too dangerous! We could have lost you so easily...." she choked back a sob.

"It....it was not that bad until the very last, mother," whispered Anya weakly. "It was at the very end...that strange, hideously black void you warned me about....it almost pulled us in. It was only a link, a single link..." She started. "Echozar! Where's Echozar!"

"Echozar is outside, very upset. He is the one who pulled you back, Anya. But nobody prepared him--he has never seen the ceremony before. But as far gone as you were, his love was powerful enough to call you back."

"I want him."

Ayla obediently got up and moved towards the curtain. She stepped outside, and in moments, Anya's heart gladenned to see Echozar hesistantly stepped inside. His tortured gaze met hers--and her heart wrenched. Imploringly, she reached out an arm to him.

He did not even pause. Moving swiftly, he knelt at her side and gathered her to him, tipping her face up and covering her chilled lips with his own.

She felt him shuddering, but unlike her, it wasn't cold. She snuggled against him, and felt his heart thumping with relief....and felt her own heart thumping the same beat.

****

"What *can* we do?" demanded Brun as he, Durc, and Joharran discussed what they had seen. "You say it is a woman's ceremony. Women are not only forbidden from using the root, it's beyond doom if they do use it. The Clan could be doomed."

"I doubt it," said Joharran. "For many years, this ceremony had commenced; it is one that only women can handle, because they interact with the spirit world. A man of the Others has to be guided. Ayla and Zelandoni usually do it; but because Ayla is expecting, Anya is the one preparing it. Only mother and daughter know the secret of the root, not even Zelandoni knows it."

"Did Ayla bring that knowledge to your people?" asked Brun, just barely starting to relax.

"She did indeed. It was just another form of magic she brought to strengthen the lives of the Zelandonii. This one is dangerous, but it has been beneficial in understanding where we come from, it has even been beneificial in our acceptance that the Clan is indeed human. It became a part of the women's secret rituals, we men can do nothing about it."

"If they've used it that long, and are not dead....is there any danger?" asked Durc.

"You saw them drop, It's dangerous if misused, it can be fatal. This was the closest yet I saw them come to death. Their mates have to draw them back, otherwise they would become lost. I don't know much else of what they see, it's a part of secret lore only used by Those Who Serve. But it has done no harm to our people or yours."

"There is only one thing I can see us doing," gestured Brun.

"What's that?" asked Durc.

"We can never, ever mention it to the rest of the Clan when they return. Not yet. Not even Broud would be ready to know. When the time is right, he will accept it, not before."

Durc was in hearty agreement, as Joharran.

****

The next morning, Echozar finally got up the nerve to pull Anya aside. It was now or never, he would never easily again get the courage he felt now.

"Anya--you know I love you, right?" he asked when she was staring into his eyes.

She nodded. "And I love you too, Echozar--with all my being. I cannot thank you enough for saving my life, calling me back with your love--you now own a piece of my spirit, you know."

He paused. "Is that all I own?"

Something deep in his eyes made her swallow. "Is that all you want to own?"

He was trembling as he shook his head, holding her close. "No...Anya. You own something of me I cannot live without--you own my heart. It is yours....I want to own your heart in return, not just a piece of your spirit."

Tears of sheer happiness filled her eyes. "Do you mean that?"

"With all my being." He smiled down at her as her eyes overflowed, those lovely violet orbs locked on his.

"Then it is yours." She flung herself forward, wrapping her arms around his neck in ecstatic happiness. "Oh, Echozar!"

"This has to be a dream," he murmured, whirling her around from the waist. "It has to be a dream that my special Donii-woman loves me as much as I love her."

"Oh, she does," Anya laughed. "So...are you going to kiss me or not?"

He barely had time to chuckle before his mouth was on hers, sealing an unspoken promise to be with her until the end of time.

****

"I told you so," Ayla teased her blushing daughter, after her not-so-surprising announcement that she was going to mate with Echozar.

"I get the point, Momma," Anya lowered her eyes, her cheeks red flags. "You don't have to rub it in."

"So...when's the matrimonial?" asked Jondalar easily. "Are you going to have it this summer, while the festival is sitll running? Or is my girl going to drive poor Echozar crazy waiting until the next summer meeting?"

"We can do it with the other scheduled Matrimonials tomorrow, Jondalar," she poked him. "I could not 'drive him crazy' by making him wait a year. I don't want to wait, either."

"Whatever my girl wants," he agreed, and Ayla smiled at her daughter.

And, Anya mused, with Echozar being her mate, she was going to make a special request to Broud and Brun once Broud returned from the hunt.

She was going to request that Echozar be made a recognized Clan member as her mate.