The Shelters of Stone Read Online Free PDF Page B

moved with the resilience of health and strength, and a confidence that belied her youth and the fact that she was among complete strangers in their living place.
    Zelandoni got up and walked toward the structure, one of the many such dwelling places of various sizes scattered within the limestone abri. At the entrance to the dwelling that divided the private living space from the open public area, she tapped on the stiff rawhide panel next to the drape-closed entry and heard the padded strides of soft leather footwear approaching. The tall, fair-haired, surprisingly handsome man pulled back the drape. Eyes of an unusually vivid shade of blue looked surprised, then warmed with pleasure.
    “Zelandoni! How nice to see you,” he said, “but mother isn’t here right now.”
    “What makes you think I’m here to see Marthona? You’re the one who’s been gone five years.” Her tone was sharp.
    He was suddenly flustered and at a loss for words.
    “Well, are you going to leave me standing out here, Jondalar?”
    “Oh.… Come in, of course,” he said, his brow knotting into a habitual frown, erasing the warm smile. He stepped back, holding the drape aside as she entered.
    They studied each other in silence for a time. When he’d left, she had just become First Among Those Who Served The Mother; she’d had five years to grow into the position and she had grown into it. The woman he knew had become immensely fat. She was two or three times the size of most women, with huge breasts and broad buttocks. She had a soft full face crowded by three chins, but her piercing blue eyes seemed to miss nothing. She had always been tall and strong,and she carried her great size with grace, and a demeanor that asserted her prestige and authority. She had a presence, an aura of power about her that commanded respect.
    They both spoke at once. “Can I get you …” Jondalar started.
    “You’ve changed…”
    “I’m sorry…” he apologized for what seemed like an interruption, feeling oddly constrained. Then he noticed just the slightest hint of a smile, and a familiar look in her eye, and he felt himself relax.
    “I am glad to see you … Zolena,” he said. His brow smoothed out and his smile returned as he focused his compelling eyes full of warmth and love on her.
    “You haven’t changed that much,” she said, feeling herself respond to his charisma and the memories it evoked. “No one has called me Zolena for a long time.” She appraised him again carefully, “You have changed, though. Grown up some. You’re more handsome than ever.…”
    He started to protest, but she shook her head at him. “Don’t make objections, Jondalar. You know it’s true. But there’s a difference. You look … how can I say it … you don’t have that hungry look, that need that every woman wanted to satisfy. I think you have found what you’ve been searching for. You are happy in a way that you have never been.”
    “I never could keep anything from you,” he said, smiling with an excited, almost childlike delight. “It’s Ayla. We plan to mate at this summer’s Matrimonial. I suppose we could have had a mating ceremony before we left, or along the way, but I wanted to wait until we got home so you could slip that thong over our wrists and tie the knot for us.”
    Just talking about her had changed his expression, and Zelandoni had a momentary sense of the almost obsessive love he felt for this woman called Ayla. It concerned her, raised all the protective instincts she felt for her people—particularly this person—as the voice, surrogate, and instrument of the Great Earth Mother. She knew the powerful emotions he had struggled with growing up, and finally learned to keep under control. But a woman he loved that much could hurthim terribly, perhaps even destroy him. Her eyes narrowed. She wanted to know more about this young woman who had captivated him so completely. Just what kind of hold did she have on him?
    “How can