Free The Blessing Stone by Barbara Wood Page A

than losing their clan spirit. Worse things even than losing their men. Because in this strange mist-enshrouded world they could not see the moon. They had not, in fact, seen it in weeks.
    Laliari was not alone in her fears. While the other women mourned the loss of their men, even greater was their grief over the loss of the moon. It had not shown its face in many days and they were beginning to fear that it might be gone forever. Without the moon there could be no babies, and no babies meant the ultimate death of the clan. Already the early signs were among them: in the weeks since they had been roaming on their own, not one of the women had become pregnant.
    As Laliari shifted the heavy burden on her shoulders, she looked ahead at the two elders who led the small band through the fog and tried to take comfort from the thought that Alawa and Bellek, with their supernatural powers and knowledge of magic, would find the moon.
    But Laliari could not know that Alawa was impelled by a deep terror of her own and that she harbored a terrible secret.
    Old Alawa was Keeper of the Gazelle Antlers and therefore keeper of the clan’s history. Her name meant “the one who was searched for” because when she was a small child she had gotten lost and the clan had searched for days for her. She had the honor of wearing the gazelle antlers on her head, strapped under her chin with strips of animal sinew. Alawa’s earlobes had been so stretched over the years with ornamental plugs that they rested on her bony shoulders. Between her withered breasts hung necklaces of shell, bone, and ivory. Amulets covered the rest of her body, not for ornamentation but for ritualistic magic. Alawa’s people knew that for survival every bodily orifice must be guarded against the invasion of evil spirits. In childhood, the nasal septum was pierced with an ostrich quill and kept open through adulthood with an ivory needle. This prevented evil spirits from entering the body through the nostrils. Ears were pierced, top and bottom, as well as lips. Magic amulets were strung from belts so that they hung protectively over buttocks and pubis, for spirits were known to enter human beings through the rectum and vagina as well.
    The other elder was Bellek, clan shaman and Keeper of the Mushrooms. Like Alawa, his hair was long and white and strung with beads that clicked gently as he walked. His only clothing was a loincloth made of soft gazelle skin, and his body was as heavily decorated with magic amulets as Alawa’s. Bellek carried dried mushrooms in a leather pouch, but he also searched for fresh ones in the wooded areas on the banks of this foreign river. Although mushrooms were plentiful and the band ate well of them as they traveled through this strange land of mists and ghosts, Bellek was looking for one mushroom in particular, the one with a long thin stem and distinctive cap that he always thought resembled a woman’s nipple. These were the mushrooms that, when ingested, transported a person into a metaphysical plane where supernatural beings dwelled.
    Laliari was thankful that the clan still had Bellek and Alawa, for elders were the clan’s most prized members and together, Laliari was certain, the old pair would find the moon.
    As if sensing the girl’s eyes on her, Alawa stopped suddenly and turned to peer through the mist at the younger woman. The others also stopped and looked at Alawa in alarm. The silence that engulfed them was terrifying, for it was the silence of ghosts holding their tongues, of evil spirits waiting to pounce. Several of the women gathered their little ones close to them and held babies tight. The moment seemed to hang suspended in time, Laliari held her breath, everyone waited. And then Alawa, having come to a secret decision, turned and resumed her weary trek.
    Alawa’s secret decision was this: that it was not yet time to tell the others of her new knowledge, which made her heart heavy with sadness. She had read the magic