Lomie started to speak, then hesitated, and did not respond. Mamut continued, "I think she would have known just by looking at you. She has a rare gift for knowing, and an amazing knowledge of remedies and treatments, but she lacks skill in just those ways that you are most proficient, finding and relieving the problem that creates the illness, and helping someone want to get well. She could learn much from you, and I hope you will consent to train her, but I think there is much you could learn from her as well."
Lomie turned to Ayla. "And is that what you want?"
"It is what I want."
"If you know so much already, what do you think you can learn from me?"
"I am a medicine woman. It is… who I am… my life. I could not be otherwise. I was trained by one who was… First, but from the beginning she taught me there is always more to learn. I would be grateful to learn from you," Ayla said. Her sincerity was not feigned. She was hungry to talk to someone with whom she could share ideas and discuss treatments, and learn.
Lomie paused. Medicine woman? Where had she heard that name for Healer before? She put the thought aside for the moment. It would come to her.
"Ayla has a gift for you," Mamut said. "Call in anyone you want, but then, if you will, close the flap."
Everyone who was outside had either come in while they were talking, or was standing at the entrance. They all crowded in. No one wanted to miss anything. When everyone was settled and the entrance flap closed and tied, Mamut picked up a handful of dirt from a drawing circle and put out the small flame, but the bright daylight could not be kept out entirely. It beamed in through the smoke hole, and dimly, through the hide walls. It would not be quite as dramatic a demonstration in the dimly lit tent as it had been within the dark earthlodge, but every one of the mamuti would recognize its possibilities.
Ayla untied the small carrying container from her waistband, one she and Mamut had asked Barzec to make, and withdrew tinder, firestone, and flint. After everything was ready, Ayla paused, and for the first time in many moon cycles, sent a silent thought to her totem. It wasn't a specific request, but she thought about a big, impressive, fast lighting spark, so the effect would be what Mamut wanted. Then she picked up the flint and struck it sharply against the iron pyrite. It flashed brightly, even in the tent, then went out. She struck again, and this time it took, and soon the small fire in the fireplace was burning again.
The mamuti were wise in the ways of artifice and accustomed to creating effects. They prided themselves on being able to recognize how they were accomplished. Little surprised them, but Ayla's fire trick left them without words.
"The magic is in the firestone itself," old Mamut said, as Ayla put the materials back in the rawhide container, and gave it to Lomie. Then the tone and quality of his voice changed. "But the way to draw the fire out of it was shown to Ayla. I did not need to adopt her, Lomie. She was born to the Mammoth Hearth, chosen by the Mother. She can only follow her destiny, but now I know that I was chosen to be part of it, and why I was given so many years."
His words sent a thrill of shivers and raised hairs through everyone in the tent of the Mammoth Hearth. He had touched upon the real mystery, the deeper calling that each one of them felt in some measure beyond the superficial trappings and casual cynicism. Old Mamut was a phenomenon. His very existence was magical. No one had ever lived so long. His name was even lost in the passage of years. They were each a Mamut, shaman of their Camps, but he was simply Mamut, his name and calling had become one. No one there doubted that there was some purpose for his many years. If he said Ayla was the reason, then she was touched by the deep and unexplainable mysteries of life and the world around them, which each of them felt called upon to struggle with.
Ayla was preoccupied when she and Mamut left the tent. She, too, had felt tension, a stirring of gooseflesh when old Mamut spoke of her destiny, but she didn't want to be the object of such intense interest by powers beyond her control. It was frightening, all this talk of destiny. She wasn't any different from anyone else, and she didn't want to be. She didn't like it when her speech was commented upon, either. At Lion Camp no one noticed any more. She had forgotten that there were some words she just couldn't get right, no matter how hard she tried.
"Ayla! There you are. I was looking for you."
She looked up at the sparkling dark eyes and wide flashing smile of the dark-skinned man to whom she was Promised. She smiled back. He was just the one she needed to take her mind off her troubling thoughts. She turned to Mamut to see if he still wanted her. He smiled and told her to go and have a look around the encampment with Ranec.
"I want you to meet some carvers. Some of them are doing fine work." Ranec said, leading her with an arm around her waist. "We always have a Camp near the Mammoth Hearth. Not just carvers, other artists, too."
He was excited, and Ayla sensed the same exhilaration she felt when she realized Lomie was a Healer. Even though there might be some competition in relation to ability and the status each was accorded, no one understood the nuances of a craft or skill like another person who practiced it. Only with another Healer could she discuss the relative merits of mullein versus wintergreen in the treatment of coughs, for example, and she had missed those kinds of discussions. She had seen how Jondalar, Wymez, and Danug could spend unbelievable amounts of time talking about flint and toolmaking, and she realized that Ranec also enjoyed the contact of others who worked with ivory.
As they walked across part of the cleared area, Ayla noticed Danug and Druwez with several other young men, smiling and shuffling nervously while talking to a red-footed woman. Danug looked up and saw her and smiled, then made a quick excuse and loped across a few yards of trampled and dried grass to join them. They waited for him to catch up.
"I saw you talking to Latie, and was going to bring some friends to meet you, Ayla, but we can't go too close to Giggle-Girl Camp… uh, I mean, uh" – Danug blushed, realizing he had given away the nickname the young men had for the place where they were not allowed.
"It's all right, Danug. They do giggle a lot."
The tall young man relaxed. "Not that there's anything wrong with that. Are you in a hurry? Can you come over and meet them now?"
Ayla gave Ranec a questioning glance.
"I was just going to take her to meet some people, too," Ranec said. "But there is no hurry. We can come over and meet your friends first."
As they started back toward the group of young men, Ayla noticed the red-footed woman was still there.
"I wanted to meet you, Ayla," the woman said after Danug made the introductions. "Everyone is talking about you, wondering where you came from, and why those animals answer to you. You have given us all a mystery that I'm sure we'll be talking about for years." She smiled, and gave Ayla a sly wink. "Take my advice. Don't tell anyone where you come from. Keep them guessing. It's more fun."
Ranec laughed. "She may be right, Ayla," he said. "Tell me, Mygie, why are you wearing red feet this year?"
"After Zacanen and I scattered the hearth, I didn't want to stay with his Camp, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to go back to my mother's Camp, either. This just seemed like the right thing to do. It gives me a place to stay for a while, and if the Mother chooses to give me a child for it, I wouldn't be sorry. Oh, that reminds me, did you know the Mother gave another woman a baby of your spirit, Ranec? You remember Tricie? Marlie's daughter? The one who lives here, at Wolf Camp? She chose red feet last year. This year she has a boy. Toralie's little girl was dark, like you, but not this one. I saw him. He's very light, with red hair even brighter than hers, but he looks just like you. Same nose and everything. She calls him Ralev."