CIRCLES OF STONE (THE MOTHER PEOPLE SERIES) (10 page)

Abruptly, Rune
began to run, still pulling the startled Klep.  She called as loudly as
she could without breaking her stride.  Dak stopped to listen to the call
and then ran after her quickly as pain shot up through the soles of his
feet.  But his eyes were eager, for Rune had uttered the sound for
water. 

Then he saw it, a
glimpse of muddy liquid, just beyond the top of a small rise.  He lumbered
forward, his eyes fastened on the sight.  So intent was he that he failed
to notice the sudden disappearance of ash and lava.  At one moment, his
feet burned; the next moment, they felt the welcome coolness of grass.  He
looked down, amazed. A few long tongues of black reached toward the swamp, but
between them was the wonder of green.  And beyond that was the miracle of
water.

Rune and Klep were
already there, kneeling and drinking deeply.  Myta staggered behind her
two young ones, who ran jubilantly toward the muddy banks.  They did not
stop to drink, but waded in energetically.  Myta screamed, the scream for
danger, and they ran out as fast as they had entered.  She had spotted an
ominous pair of eyes just above the surface.  She did not know what the
eyes signified, for she had never seen such a creature before, but she was
certain it could hurt them.

Dak peered into
the water as he knelt to drink.  He could see the animal's large body from
this perspective, just beneath the water.  It was scaly, with a thick
tail, and it had a long snout with terrible, gnashing teeth.  He pointed
toward it for Rune to see.  She jumped back, and gestured with her arms
that the creature might come close and try to snatch one of them with its cruel
jaws.

The two youngsters
backed fearfully away from the water, their feet squashing deeply into the wet
moss around the pond.  But their alarm dissipated rapidly as other
novelties distracted them.  Tiny colorful frogs, disturbed by their hasty
retreat, leaped high into the air.  The twins scampered after them. 
One of them picked up a handful of moss and flung it at his brother.  Soon
clumps of the soggy stuff were flying in all directions.

The others moved
away from the crocodile's place to soothe their blistered feet in the coolness
of another of the small ponds that dotted the marsh.  Then they lay down
on a grassy area above the wetness, grateful to be able to rest.  Dak
looked around him with satisfaction.  Food abounded in this place. 
The marshes were studded with edible plants, and there would be many kinds of
insects and reptiles, as well as small mammals and birds.

Carefully, he
lowered Screech to the ground.  The small male was frighteningly limp, and
he had not uttered a sound for a long time, not even when Dak had run,
stumbling in his eagerness, to the water.  But his eyes opened for a
moment when Dak put him down, and he emitted a weak sound, the same call Dak
had heard before.

Rune came to look
at him.  Dak thought he saw tears in her eyes, and they frightened him
further.  But she went stolidly towards the water and slurped up a
mouthful.  The little one needed liquid desperately.  The lava's
terrible heat had drawn all the moisture from him, and he was feverish as
well.  Screech did not resist when she placed her lips against his, but he
could not seem to swallow.  Even when Rune put the water in very slowly,
most of it dribbled down his chin.

A clump of wet
moss hit Rune's back as she crouched over Screech.  She scowled at the
twins. Then her face grew thoughtful. The moss had felt cool and refreshing.
Gesturing to one of the boys to give her the clump in his hand, she placed it
gently on Screech's forehead.  When she signaled for more, the youngsters
set off eagerly and returned with big piles.  These she draped around
Screech's chest and neck.  The coolness seemed to help, for his face
became less strained.  Satisfied, Rune settled down beside him to wait.

Dak rose and
climbed to the top of the escarpment, beyond the marsh.  From here he
could see all the way to the valley where they had lived.  The contrast
between the place where he stood and the place he had come from was
startling.  Here, everything was lush and green, untouched by the
volcano.  Below, all was black, apparently lifeless.  Only the trees
in the forest they had left, looming bleakly above the ashes, broke the flat
darkness.  Then he spotted some antelopes, and a bunch of pigs, taking
advantage of the evening coolness to cross the lava.  There were not many,
but at least some animals had survived.  Far away, near the place where
they had first stepped onto the lava, he thought he saw another creature, one
that walked like himself on two legs. He squinted, trying to distinguish its
size and shape.  But it was too far to see clearly, and he gave up the
effort.

The brilliant
horizon caught his attention.  The sun had just disappeared, and all the
sky around it was fiery red. Its glow lit up the voluminous clouds that still
seethed behind the smoking mountain, and turned the lava purple.  The vast
expanse seemed almost to move before Dak's eyes as the light disappeared
against it.  He watched for a time and then turned away.  Soon it
would be fully dark, and he must protect the others.  They were safe from
the volcano, but other unknown dangers could lurk in this place.  He
scrambled back to the marsh.  Rune had moved them a little higher, away
from the water and the crocodiles.  Dak picked up a few large stones, to
throw at any predator that came near.  Klep imitated him. Rune, too, had a
stone.

Dak went over to
her where she lay beside Screech on a deep pile of grasses. The small male was
still and quiet.  Once, he cried out and his eyelids fluttered, then he
was still again.  Dak looked at his mother for reassurance, but the
tightness of her lips only increased his uneasiness.

Rune reached out
and touched the young one's hand, then his head.  She had kept the mosses
damp and cool, but Screech's skin still burned against her palm.  She met
Dak's worried eyes and shook her head forlornly.

Sighing, he lay
down beside her to sleep.  But even in sleep, his ears remained alert for
unusual sounds.  He heard snuffling, as a night creature probed for food,
and insects made a wondrous chorus. Once, a bird squawked, and an animal
screamed in terror as a predator grabbed it.  None of these noises woke
Dak, though he was aware of them. He sat up straight, though, when he heard an
eerie howling pierce the darkness.  The sound stopped, then resumed, from
another place farther away.

Dak relaxed and
lay down again.  It had been a different kind of howling.  But after
that, he dreamed.  As he slept, an image of a young female, the one he had
mated with at the pond, came into his mind.  She sat in the middle of the
steaming lava, her head in her hands, and she howled in anguish.  Over and
over, the dream raced through his brain, and when he woke in the dawn, he could
not tell if he had heard the howling or not.

CHAPTER
SIX

Zena wrapped both
arms around the thick branch in front of her and clung desperately as the trunk
slid still lower against the stream bank.  It scratched deep gouges in the
damp clay; she watched, mesmerized, as displaced globs slithered into the water
and were instantly dissolved in swirling foam.

The trunk settled
again with a wrenching jerk just above the churning river. Water surged around
Zena's knees, splashed relentlessly into her face and eyes, but she dared not
wipe it away lest she lose her grip and fall.  She dared not move at all,
forward or backward.  She was stuck here, at the mercy of the raging
water.

She slumped
helplessly against the sodden branch.  Then a muffled sound reached her,
barely audible over the water's clamor.  It was the infant; she was almost
sure it was.

Resolve returned,
and she sat up straight, determined somehow to get to the baby. Daring to let
go with one hand, she swiped at her eyes so she could see.  On one side of
her a waterfall charged through the rocks, on the other side were vine-encrusted
brush and branches that hung down from the larger trunk.  If she could
reach them, she might be able to haul herself up.

Just as she moved
forward, a heavy log careened over the waterfall and charged straight at her
knees. Frantic with terror, she stood up and grabbed a thick vine that dangled
near her head to steady herself. Her feet slid away from the drenched trunk and
dropped uselessly into the water.  It reached as high as her chest now,
and only her fingers kept her from being swept away.  She held on to the
vine with all her strength as the current lashed her, tried to force her into
the tumultuous river.

Trembling with the
strain, she looked for a place to stand to get a few seconds of relief for her
arms.  The log that had crashed toward her was down there, bobbing in the
restless water. Gingerly, she placed her feet on it.  The log held her
weight for a moment, but then it shot out from under her, propelling her
straight up into the thicket.  Despite the jolt, she felt immediately more
secure.  Now the water was below her knees, and she could reach the larger
branches above.  Slowly, she hauled herself up until her body was free of
the current's wrenching pull.

Now she was
certain she heard the infant.  She was screaming loudly, long insistent
wails of frustration.  The sound renewed Zena's determination. 
Doggedly, she dragged herself up through the tangle of branches until she was
directly below the main trunk.  It still rose at a steep angle, but not as
steep as before. Wrapping her arms around its wide girth, she managed to pull
herself on top of it. This time, she did not even try to sit, but lay flat on
her stomach and wriggled toward the opposite bank.

She lifted her
head, suddenly aware that water was no longer splashing up at her, and steeled
herself to look at the torrent below. Her relief was so great that she almost
fell.  There was no water.  There was only ground, solid, ash-covered
ground.  But she was high above it - too high to jump, and she saw no
branches, no convenient tangle of brush through which she could lower herself. 
All that was visible was a limb below her that angled down toward the ground,
above the churning water.

The baby wailed
again, a sharp cry of fear.  Zena moved without thinking.  She slid
backward to the limb, rose to her knees and lunged.  For a moment, her
body hung over the rushing torrent; then she landed with a thump at the edge of
the bank.  Brushing away the tears that welled up at the welcome feel of
earth beneath her feet, she hurried toward the place where she had heard the
infant.  There had been no more cries.

An unexpected
noise made her heart thump with hope.  It was a sneeze, the kind of sneeze
the infant made when she was carried** into the cave through the dusty
passage.  Zena ran toward the sound, and saw the baby immediately. 
She was lying in the bushes beside the ravine, kicking her feet and waving her
tiny fists, as if trying to extricate herself.  An angry red bump showed
on her forehead, and there were scratches on her stomach, but otherwise she
looked unharmed.  She stared up at her mother, whimpering.  Zena
picked her up and held her close.  Tears coursed down her cheeks, and this
time she did not try to wipe them away.

The baby sighed
contentedly and began to suckle.  Zena sat down abruptly, dizzy with the
shock of the last few hours.  She forced herself up again.  Dusk was
not far away, and she had to find shelter.  Her knees shook with
exhaustion as she stumbled on, and her eyes kept closing.  Only the
infant's movements and noises kept her going.  Each time her head nodded
and her arms began to sag, the baby wriggled and screamed in fear.

Abruptly, she
realized that the trees had thinned, and the ash under her feet felt
different.  She sank into it with every step, and in some places there was
heat below. Frowning, she peered out from behind the last of the trees. 
An endless expanse of ash-covered lava stretched as far as she could see in
very direction. There was nothing on it, nothing at all - no animals, no trees
or bushes or grasses.  No movements distracted her eyes; no noises reached
her ears. 

Despair
overwhelmed her suddenly. With it came a terrible feeling of
helplessness.  She could not think what to do.  To reach the plateau,
she had to cross the blackness, but to struggle across all that desolate space
was impossible.  It was too far, too forbidding.  But she could not
stay here, in this horrible place without light or greenness or shelter. 

Cautiously, she
took a few steps into the deep ash, to see if she could walk in it. It was hot
and burned her feet, so she turned and headed east along the edge of the trees
to look for a cooler place. Then, without warning, hunger and exhaustion
claimed her, and she knew she could go no farther.  She had to find
shelter.  The thought reverberated in her mind, and she clung to it
tenaciously as she moved slowly toward the woods, looking for anything that
might offer safety during the dark hours.  Finally, she saw a pile of
large rocks in a burned area.  She climbed onto them, seeking a crevice
she could crawl through, or even a place in which she could huddle unseen.

She was
lucky.  Near the top of the pile, she was able to squeeze through a crack
between two rocks. The space was tiny; she could barely move her elbows, and
she could not lie down, but at least no larger animal could get in. Groaning
with weariness, she slumped against the hard surface.  Her eyes closed,
and she slept, forgetting her hunger, her fear, even her anguish at losing
Screech. She could rest, finally, and that was all that mattered.

*************************

An animal padded
over Zena's head, its paws almost silent on the gray rocks.  She shivered
convulsively and huddled lower. The sound triggered a remembered terror so
sharp her breathing seemed almost to stop. But the noise disappeared quickly,
and she roused to feed the infant, whose hungry whimpers would attract
attention.

Zena placed the
tiny female at her breast, but her milk supply had diminished over the past
days, and the baby was not satisfied. Clumsily, she pulled her stiff body out
of the tight crevice.  Neither of them would survive if she did not find
food and water soon.

She drank deeply
from a shallow puddle left by the rain.  The water was smoke colored and
tasted of fire, but it quenched her thirst.  Food was more difficult to
find, but eventually she came across some plants she recognized, ones that she
knew had long yellow tubers beneath the ground.  To her surprise, they
were softer than those she had found near the pond, and she could chew them
easily.  She dug up a bunch of them with a stone and kept them with her as
she headed again toward the lava.

Food and rest had
restored her, and the picture of the green plateau was once again clear in her
mind.  She trudged out across the dark ash without hesitation.  No
heat came from it now, for the sun was barely over the horizon.  For more
than an hour, she plodded on, only vaguely aware of the occasional animals that
trotted past her on their way to the greenness above.  Then an unexpected
sight brought her to an abrupt halt.  There were marks before her in the
ash, marks that she had seen many times before.  Her own feet made them in
the mud, and Screech's feet.  But how had they come here?

Zena looked down
at her feet.  Carefully, she placed one of them beside a big footprint.
Then she removed it and stared at the result.  Her print looked the same,
though it was smaller and not as deep, for the ash was harder than it had been
the day before.  Other prints were scattered nearby.  One set was
almost the same size as her own; another was smaller.  Zena knelt to look
at it, and Screech came into her mind. 

She stared into
the distance.  The unexpected marks excited her, but she was also
apprehensive.  She sensed that others like her had made them, but she had
been alone for so long, except for Screech, that she could not imagine what
others might mean.  She walked on, watching nervously for any sign of the
ones who had made the marks.

The ash began to
warm up as the sun rose higher.  Zena placed her feet inside the biggest
footprints.  The ground was cooler there, and she kept on walking inside
them until they stopped abruptly beside a large rock.  She rested for a
moment, then set off again, eager to get off the lava before it became too
hot.  The green was getting close now; she could see bushes ahead, and she
thought she could smell water.  The faint scent that lingered around the
footprints was getting stronger, too.  She had smelled it often as she
stood on the ridge looking down into the narrow valley, but never before had it
been so powerful, so close.  She scanned the landscape ahead of her
anxiously and hurried on.

Another scent
stopped her in her tracks. Her heart began to thump heavily - but it was too
weak to be sure, and Screech could not be here...

Tense with hope,
she strode ahead, not even noticing that the coolness of grass had abruptly
replaced the hot ash beneath her feet.  A slight breeze rippled toward
her, bringing with it the smell of water and mud and that other, elusive odor.

Zena began to
tremble, and a sob rose in her throat.  The scent
was
there; she
could smell it clearly now.  It was Screech's smell, more familiar to her
than any other.

She called to him,
a long, anguished call, ignoring the danger that might lie ahead.  There was
no answer.  She moved forward slowly, eyes and ears alert.  So intent
was she that she almost stumbled into a pool of muddy water. 
Automatically, she knelt to drink, but midway through a gulp she lifted her
head in confusion.  The scent was strong here.  It was Screech, but
not quite the same, as if he had changed somehow.

Bewildered, she
called again, the call she had always used to bring him to her. This time she
heard a response.  The sound was weak, terribly weak, but still she knew
it.  She sped toward it, forgetting caution, forgetting everything but the
need to find him.

An old female rose
from the ground at her approach.  She growled at Zena and stood
protectively over the small body at her feet.  Zena paid no
attention.  It was Screech on the ground; she was certain it was Screech,
even before he uttered the call she knew so well.  She ran to him,
oblivious to the growls.  The other female moved aside as Zena knelt
beside him and gathered his head into her free arm, cooing to him joyously.

Screech looked at
her, and an expression of absolute relief came into his eyes. He felt for her
hand and held it to his cheek. She had come for him, just as he had known she
would.  His eyes closed again, but now the anguish had left his face.

Tears rained down
Zena's cheeks, tears of joy and of fear. His face was hot, terribly hot. 
She pushed the moss away from his forehead, revealing an angry red gash that
was badly swollen.  And his smell was not right.

Over and over
again, she stroked his cheeks, uttering low calls of happiness, and then of
distress, at his stillness, his silence.

An unfamiliar call
made Zena look up.  She had almost forgotten the ones whose tracks she had
followed.  For the first time, she really saw the female who had stood
over Screech. Though stooped and thin, she was strong, and there was no hint of
submission about her.  She had stopped growling and was watching Zena
carefully. The eyes of the two females met.  Worry clouded them both.

Again, Rune
uttered the unfamiliar call.  A male appeared behind her.  He stared
at Zena, and then came closer to sniff at her.  She shrank back,
protecting Screech and the infant with her body.  He retreated quickly and
sat down near her, continuing to gaze at her face.  She stared back,
wide-eyed with astonishment as recognition returned.  This was the male
who had come to her pond.  Tentatively, she reached out to touch his
shoulder.  Dak placed his hand on hers.

Zena sighed, a
long, deep sigh, and bent over Screech once again.  Heat came from him, and
his arm was hurt.  It was purple, and bent in the wrong place.  She
frowned, and cooed to him. His eyes flickered, but he did not respond. 
His inability to move, to reach out to her with his characteristic eagerness,
frightened her terribly.  Had she found him only to lose him?

Then practicality
reasserted itself, and determination.  He was hurt, just as he had been
when she first found him.  She would treat him the same way, and he would
get better.  Zena ran to the water and filled her cheeks with it, then ran
back and placed her mouth over his.  Instinct told her he needed water
more than anything else, for the heat inside him was burning the liquid from
his body. 

With a momentous
effort, Screech swallowed a few drops.  The movement hurt him badly, but
because it was Zena above him, coaxing, and not some other, he would try. 
His bruised throat was a little less constricted, too, for the terrible tension
that had afflicted him as he waited for Zena had finally eased.  All
through the long nights, the hot days, his muscles had been immovable, kept
rigid by the need to listen for her. Now that she had come to him, his whole
body had relaxed, and he could try to swallow the liquid he needed so
desperately.

Zena went back for
more water; again a few drops went down his throat.  She chewed one of her
tubers, and tried to persuade him to take some from her lips.  But he only
frowned and turned his head away.  Rune came up beside her carrying fresh
clumps of moss.  As Zena watched, she placed one on Screech's forehead. 
Then she handed the others to Zena.  Feeling their coolness, Zena imitated
her, and put them against the feverish small body.  She looked up
gratefully at Rune.

Another female
approached as Zena bent over Screech.  Two small ones clung to her.  She
reached out tentatively to touch Zena.  Her hand stopped in the middle of
the gesture, and she looked anxiously at Rune, as if requesting
permission. 

Rune frowned as
her eyes moved between Zena and Screech.  Screech had a familiar smell,
but Zena did not.  But Dak had greeted her in a way that implied
recognition.  She shook her head, confused, and wandered off to sit by
herself.

Myta took
advantage of Rune's confusion and finished her gesture.  She touched Zena,
very lightly, and looked curiously at the infant.  Then she darted off to
join Rune.  After a while, both of them got up and went off in search of
food.  The young ones followed, chattering to each other and tumbling
together in the grasses as they went.

Dak disappeared
behind a low hill on the far side of the pond.  He returned a few minutes
later and sat down close to Zena.  In his hands were some ripe pieces of
fruit.  Gravely, he held them out for her to take. 

Zena looked
carefully at his face, then she reached out and accepted the fruit.  It
was deep purple, and juicy.  She bent over Screech, to see if he might
take some.  His eyes had opened again, and he was staring up at her. 
She cooed to him, and showed him the fruit.  But he just kept looking at
her and did not respond.  She lay down beside him to rest.  Perhaps
later, he would eat more. Joy filled her heart, despite her worry.  She
was with Screech again.

Her eyes began to
close and she blinked furiously, trying to stay awake.  She did not want
to leave Screech again even in sleep.  But exhaustion and the feeling of
security that came from having others nearby were too great to deny. 
Against her will, Zena's eyes closed again, and she slept.

************************

When she awoke,
the others were grouped around her.  Dak lay on his back; a young male
Zena had not seen before leaned against him.  Rune crouched beside
Screech, her eyes watchful.  The two little ones were suckling, one at
each of Myta's breasts.

Suddenly fearful,
Zena turned quickly toward Screech.  Seeming to feel her anxiety, he
opened his eyes and reached out toward her with his good arm.  Lovingly,
Zena held his hand against her face.  It felt hot to her cheek.  She
laid the small hand gently by his side and jumped up to get him water and fresh
moss, taking the infant with her.

Dak followed and
watched carefully as she drank.  Now that Zena had returned, he was
determined to protect her and the new infant as well.  Crocodiles lurked
everywhere in the marshes, ready to grab any creature that came too
close.  He spotted a pair of eyes and a telltale ripple in the water, and
flung a stone at it with all his strength.  A scaly tail whipped out of
the muck as the crocodile swam away.  Zena nodded her thanks, and he
smiled in satisfaction.

Zena returned to
Screech.  He took some water; then he stared into her face and opened his
mouth, just as he had when he was tiny and wanted food.  Overjoyed at this
sign of improvement, Zena looked for the tubers she had left near him, so she
could chew some for him.  They had disappeared.  A remnant of one
still clung to Myta's mouth.  So she approached Dak, and made gestures as
if plucking fruit.  It was Screech's favorite food.  She was certain
he would eat some, if she could find more.  Dak watched her carefully,
then grunted with comprehension and led her to the trees.  Together, they
gathered a big pile of the succulent fruit and brought it back to the resting
place.

Zena chewed the
fruit thoroughly, until it was almost liquid.  Screech watched her, and
opened his mouth obediently when she pressed her lips against his, but he could
not seem to swallow more than a mouthful or two.  Zena sighed,
disappointed. Darkness was almost upon them, and in the dim light his face
looked terribly pale.

Later in the
night, he began to shiver, and to utter strange sounds, as if he did not know
where he was, or that Zena was beside him.  He called for her over and
over again, but did not seem to hear her reassuring responses. She ran for
water, but now he did not even try to swallow, and most of it spilled out of
his mouth.  The heat had gone from his skin, and he felt cold and
clammy.  Zena lay close to him to give him warmth, murmuring the sounds he
knew so he would understand that she was still there.

He cried out
suddenly in fear. Zena took his hand in hers and caressed it.  The gesture
seemed to penetrate his delirium.  He opened his eyes and gazed at
her.  The moon was almost full, and she could see his face clearly. 
Now she was certain he knew she was there. She could tell because an expression
of merriment, like the expression he had had when he was small and they played
games together, came into his face.  Zena rubbed her nose gently against
his.  He responded briefly, as if to assure her that he remembered. 
Again, he stared deeply into her eyes, and now his expression was utterly
peaceful.  He sighed in contentment, and his small body relaxed.

Zena held his hand
against her cheek as she slept beside him.  All through the rest of the
night, he did not stir or make a sound.  When she awoke in the morning,
his hand was cold.  She bent over him anxiously and called to him. 
He did not answer.  She called more loudly.  Still he did not
respond.  Daylight had crept across the low meadows, and the gentle light
touched his face as he lay there.  No color showed in his skin.