'Because sometimes, even when you love someone, you don't always understand her. Sometimes you don't even understand yourself. Will you tell Wolf to find Jondalar?'
'Wolf, come here,' the girl said. She stood up and took the great massive head between her little hands, just the way her mother would have. She looked so much like a little Ayla, Danug had to hide a smile. He wasn't alone. 'Mother is sick and Jondalar has to come and help her, Wolf. You have to find him. She took her hands away and pointed toward The River. 'Find Jondalar, Wolf. Go find Jondalar,' she said.
It was not the first time the wolf had heard that command. Wolf and Ayla had had to follow Jondalar's trail before, on their Journey back, when he was captured by Attaroa's hunters. The anxious animal licked Jonayla's face, then started toward The River.
He turned around once and started back toward her, but she told him again, 'Go, Wolf! Find Jondalar! He looked back when Danug started after him, and then continued on in a fast trot, sniffing the ground.
Jondalar could hardly wait to get away from the campsite after his brush with Ayla. Then, once he reached The River and started walking upstream, he couldn't stop thinking about it. He had almost done it, almost taken her in his arms. He had wanted to. Why didn't he? What would she have done if he had? Would she have got angry? Pushed him away? Or not? She had looked so surprised, so shocked, but wasn't he just as surprised to see her?
Why didn't he? What was the worst that could happen? If she had got angry and pushed him away, would things be any worse than they were now? At least he'd know that she didn't want him. You don't want to know, do you? But things can't go on the way they are now. Was she in tears when she ran away? Or did I imagine that? Why would she be in tears? Because she's upset, or course. But what would make her so upset? Just seeing you? Why should that upset her? She told me how she felt on the night of the Festival. She showed me, didn't she? She doesn't care about you anymore, but then why was she crying?
Usually when Jondalar walked along the river, he would think about starting back about the time that the sun reached its zenith, at midday. But on this day his mind was so lost in its ruminations, going over and over again each little nuance he could recall, or detail he thought he remembered, that he didn't even notice the passage of time or the height of the sun.
Danug, taking long strides to keep up with the Wolf, began to wonder if the animal was on the right trail. Could Jondalar have travelled so far? It was well past noon when Danug stopped for a quick drink of water before continuing on. He stood up from the river's edge, and far in the distance, along a fairly straight stretch of the winding river, he thought he saw someone walking. He shaded his eyes, but could not see beyond what appeared to be a bend in waterway. The wolf had rushed on ahead while he had stopped and was out of sight. Danug hoped he'd be able to catch up to him as he started out again, picking up the pace.
Jondalar was finally distracted from his intense preoccupation by movement in the brush near the water. He caught sight of the movement again. It's a wolf! I wonder if he's been stalking me, he said to himself, reaching for his spear-thrower. But he hadn't taken spears or spear-throwers. His eyes searched the ground, looking for a weapon, a heavy branch or large shed antler, or a good stone, something to defend himself, but when the huge animal finally broke cover, all he could do was throw up his arm in front of his face as he was knocked over by the charge.
But the animal wasn't biting him, he was licking him. Then he saw the ear cocked at a jaunty angle. It was not a wild wolf, he realised. 'Wolf! Is it you? What are you doing here?' He sat up and had to fend off the exuberant advances of the excited animal. He sat for a while, petting the wolf and scratching him behind his ears, trying to calm him down. 'Why aren't you with Jonayla, or Ayla? Why did you follow me all this way?' Jondalar said, beginning to have the inkling of alarm.
When he stood up and started on his way again, Wolf pranced nervously in front of him, then back in the direction he had come. 'Do you want to go back, Wolf? Well, go ahead. You can go back.' But when Jondalar started out again, the wolf jumped in front of him again. 'What is it, Wolf?' Jondalar looked up at the sky, and for the first time noticed that the sun was well past its high point. 'Do you want me to go back with you?'
'Yes, that's what he wants, Jondalar,' Danug said.
'Danug! What are you doing here?' Jondalar said.
'Looking for you.'
'Looking for me? Why?'
'It's Ayla, Jondalar. You have to come back right away.'
'Ayla? What's wrong, Danug?'
'Remember that root? The one she made into juice for her and Mamut? She did it again, to show Zelandoni, but this time she drank it herself. No one can wake her up. Not even Jonayla. The Donier says you have to come right away, or Ayla will die and her spirit will be lost forever,' Danug said.
Jondalar turned white. 'No! Not that root! O, Great Mother, don't let her die. Please don't let her die,' he said, and started running back the way he had come.
If he had been preoccupied on his way out, it was nothing compared to his single-minded intensity as he raced back. He tore along the edge of The River, scrambling through brush that tore at his bare legs and arms, and face. He didn't feel them. He ran until he was gasping for breath that rasped his throat raw, until he felt a pain in his side that was like a hot knife, until his legs knotted and ached. He hardly felt any of it; the pain in his mind was more. He even outdistanced Danug; only the wolf kept pace.
He couldn't believe how far he had come, and worse, how long it was taking him to get back. He slowed once or twice to catch his breath, but never stopped, and put on an extra burst of speed when the brush thinned out as he neared the campsite.
'Where is she?' he asked the first person he saw.
'The zelandonia lodge,' came the answer.
The whole Summer Meeting had been looking for him, waiting for him, and as he raced toward the lodge, several people actually cheered. He didn't hear it, and he didn't stop until he crashed through the entrance drape and saw her lying on the bed surrounded by lamps. And then, all he could do was gasp out her name.
'Ayla!'
Chapter 41
Jondalar could hardly breathe, and every time he gasped for air, his throat felt raw. Sweat was pouring off him. He was bent over double from the pain in his side. His legs shook and could hardly support him as he approached the bed at the back of the lodge. Wolf had pressed in beside him, and with lolling tongue, was panting heavily, too.
'Here, Jondalar, sit,' Zelandoni said, standing up and giving him her own stool. She could see his extreme stress, and knew he must have run a great distance. 'Get him some water,' she said to the nearest acolyte. 'Some for the wolf, too.'
As he neared, he could see that Ayla's skin had a deathly grey pallor. 'Ayla, oh, Ayla, why did you do it again?' he rasped, barely able to speak. 'You know you almost died last time.' He drank from the cup that was handed to him as a reflex, hardly realising someone had given it to him. Then he literally climbed onto the bed. He pushed back the covers, picked Ayla up, and held her in his arms, shocked at how chilled she was. 'She's so cold,' he said, with a sobbing hiccup. He didn't know tears were streaming down his face. He wouldn't have cared if he did.
The wolf looked at the two people on the bed, lifted his muzzle into the air and howled, a long eerie wolfsong that sent chills down the backs of the zelandonia who were in the lodge, and the people who were outside. It stunned the ones who were chanting, causing them to miss a pulse, and stop the continuous fugue for a heartbeat. It was only then that Jondalar became conscious of the zelandonia chanting. Then Wolf put his front paws on the bed, and whined for her attention.
'Ayla, Ayla, please come back to me,' Jondalar pleaded. 'You can't die. Who will give me a son? Oh, Ayla, what a thing to say. I don't care if you give me a son. It's you I want. I love you. I don't even care if you never talk to me again, just so I can look at you sometime. Please come back to me. O Great Mother, send her back. Please send her back. I'll do anything you want, just don't take her away from me.'
