As they neared the trees, they could see a small pool, obviously spring fed, that overflowed its banks in a rill that ran off across the field. But as they neared the pool, Whinney suddenly stopped short, which nearly knocked Ayla to the ground. She wrapped her arm around her baby, who had been sitting in front of her, and quickly slid down from the mare's back. She noticed Jondalar having trouble with Racer, too. The stallion reared up, neighing loudly, and the tall man slid back, then quickly stepped off. He didn't fall, but had trouble regaining his footing.
Ayla became aware of a loud rumbling, feeling it as much as hearing it, and realised it had been going on for some time. She glanced ahead and saw the water in the pool shoot up in a fountain as though someone had squeezed the spring and sent a squirt of liquid up in the air. It was only then that she noticed the ground was moving.
Ayla knew what it was — she had felt the earth shift beneath her feet before — and felt a gorge of panic rise up in her throat. The earth was not supposed to move. She struggled to keep her balance. Petrified, she clung to her baby, afraid to take a step.
She watched the knee-high grass of the open field perform a strange, quivering dance as the groaning earth moved in unnatural ways to unheard music deep within. Ahead, the small stand of trees near the spring amplified the movement. The water bounced up and fell back, swirled over its bank, churned up dirt from its bed, and spit out muddy globs. She smelled the stench of raw earth; then with a crack, one fir tree suddenly gave way and slowly began to tip over, pulling up and exposing half its circle of roots.
The shaking seemed to go on forever. It brought back recollections of other times, and the losses that had come with the moving, groaning earth. She shut her eyes tight, trembling, and sobbed with grief and fear. Jonayla started to cry. Then Ayla felt a hand on her shoulder, and arms wrap around her and the baby that offered solace and comfort. She leaned against the warm chest of the man she loved, and the baby quieted. Slowly, she became aware that the quaking had stopped and the shuddering earth had stilled, and she felt the tightness inside her lessen.
'Oh, Jondalar,' she cried. 'That was an earthquake. I hate earthquakes!' She trembled in his arms. She thought, but didn't want to say it aloud — voicing thoughts could give them power — that earthquakes were evil; bad things always seemed to happen when the earth shook.
'I don't much like them either,' he said, holding his fragile little family close. Ayla looked around, and noticed the tilted fir tree near the spring. She shivered with a unexpected memory of a scene long ago.
'What's wrong?' Jondalar asked.
'That tree,' she said.
He looked where she was gazing and saw the tree near the spring, canted over and roots exposed.
'I remember seeing many trees tipped over and leaning like that, and some on the ground and fallen across a river. It must have been when I was very young …,' she said, hesitating, 'before I lived with the Clan. I think it was when I lost my mother, and family, and everything. Iza said that I could walk well and talk; I suppose I could count five years when she found me.'
After she told him of her memory, Jondalar held her until she relaxed again. Though it was just a brief recitation, it gave him a better understanding of the terror she must have felt as a little girl when an earthquake had brought her world crashing down around her, and life as she had known it came to an abrupt end.
'Do you think it will come back? The earthquake? Sometimes when the earth moves like that, it doesn't settle down right away. It comes back,' Ayla said, when they finally let go of each other.
'I don't know,' he said. 'But maybe we should get back to Old Valley, and make sure everyone there is all right.'
'Of course! I was so scared, I wasn't thinking about anyone else. I hope everyone is safe. And the horses! Where are the horses?' Ayla cried, looking around. 'Are they all right?'
'Aside from being as frightened as we were, I think they're fine. Racer reared up and made me slide off, but I managed not to fall. Then he started running in big circles. As far as I could tell, Whinney didn't move, and Grey stayed by her side. I think she must have run away after it stopped.'
Off in the distance on the level field, Ayla spied the animals, and breathed out, relieved. She whistled her special summons loudly and saw Whinney's head go up, then start in her direction. Racer and Grey followed, and Wolf behind them.
'They're coming now, and there's Wolf, too. I think he must have run off with them,' Jondalar said.
By the time the horses and Wolf arrived, Ayla was more composed. Since there was no convenient rock or stump of wood nearby to help her climb on Whinney's back, she gave Jonayla to Jondalar for a moment, and holding on to the mare's stand-up mane, she jumped up, threw her leg over, and found her seat. She took the child from the man and watched while Jondalar climbed up on Racer's back in much the same way, though he was so tall, he could almost step up on to the back of the compact, sturdy stallion.
She looked toward the spring, where the tree still leaned at a precarious angle. It would fall soon, she was sure. Though she had wanted to go there before, she didn't want to go near it now.
As they started toward Old Valley, they heard a loud crack, and when they glanced back, there was a more muffled boom as they watched the tall fir hitting the ground. Riding back to the Fifth Cave, Ayla wondered about the horses, and the implication of their recent actions.
'Do you suppose that the horses knew the ground was going to shake like that, Jondalar? Was that why they were behaving so strangely?' she asked.
'They definitely were nervous,' Jondalar said, 'but I'm glad they were. That's why we left and were out in the open when it happened. I think it's safer to be out here; you don't have to worry about things falling on you.'
'But the ground can open up under you,' Ayla said. 'I think that's what happened to my family. I remember that smell of deep earth, of wetness and decay. But I don't think all earthquakes are the same. Some are more powerful than others. And most of them can be felt a long distance away, but not as strongly.'
'When you were young, you must have been very close to the place where the shaking started, if all the trees toppled over and the ground opened up. I don't think we were as close to this one. Only one tree fell.'
Ayla smiled at him. 'There aren't many trees out here to fall, Jondalar.'
He smiled a little ruefully. 'That's true, and all the more reason to be out here when the ground shakes,' he said.
'But how would you know when the ground is going to shake?'
'By paying attention to the horses!' he said.
'If only I could be sure that would always work,' she said.
As they neared Old Valley, they noticed unusual activity. Almost everyone seemed to be outside of the shelters, and many of them were clustered around in front of one of them. They dismounted and walked the horses toward the shelter they had been using, which was just beyond the one where the people were gathered.
'There you are!' the First called out. 'I was a little worried about you when the ground started shaking.'
'We're fine. Are you all right?' Ayla said.
'Yes, yes, but the Fifth Cave has had some injuries, one serious,' the woman said. 'Perhaps you might take a look.'
Ayla detected the note of concern in her voice. 'Jondalar, would you take the horses and see how everything is? I'm going to stay here and help Zelandoni,' she said.
She followed the large woman until they came to the place in front of the shelter where a boy was lying on a fur bedroll that was spread out on the ground, with the fur side down to make a padding underneath. Extra pads and blankets had been placed under him to elevate his head and shoulders slightly. Soft, pliable skins, covered with blood, were directly under his head, and blood was still seeping out. She took Jonayla out of her carrying blanket, set it out on the ground, and put the baby down on it. Wolf laid down next to her. Then Hollida appeared.
'I'll watch her,' she said.
'I would be grateful,' Ayla said. She saw a cluster of people nearby who seemed to be consoling a woman, and realised that it was probably the boy's mother. She knew how she would feel if he were her son. She exchanged a look with the First, held it for a moment, and understood that the boy's injury was more than serious. It was grim.
Ayla knelt down to examine him. He was lying in the open in the light of the sun, though high clouds shielded the brightness somewhat. The first thing she noticed was that he was unconscious, but breathing, though it was slow and irregular. He had bled a great deal, but that was usually the case with head wounds. Much more serious was the pink-tinged fluid draining from his nose and ears. That meant the bone of the skull was cracked and the
