The Valley of Horses (Earth's Children 2)

“Yes, like that over there,” he said, jabbing his finger in the air at the fireplace. “How did you make it?”

She got up, went to the fireplace and pointed to it, “Fyr?” she said.

He heaved a sigh and leaned back on the furs, suddenly realizing he had been trying to force her to understand words she didn’t know. “I’m sorry, Ayla. That was stupid of me. How can you tell me what you did when you don’t know what I’m asking?”

The tension was gone. Jondalar closed his eyes feeling drained and frustrated, but Ayla was excited. She had a word. Only one, but it was a beginning. Now, how could she keep it going? How could she tell him to teach her more, that she had to learn more.

“Don-da-lah … ?” He opened his eyes. She pointed to the fireplace again. “Fyr?”

“Fire, yes, that’s fire,” he said, nodding affirmatively. Then he closed his eyes again, feeling tired, a little silly for getting so excited, and in pain, physically and emotionally.

He wasn’t interested. What could she do to make him understand? She felt so thwarted, so angry that she couldn’t think of some way to communicate her need to him. She tried one more time.

“Don-da-lah.” She waited until he opened his eyes again. “Fyr … ?” she said with hopeful appeal in her eyes.

What does she want? Jondalar thought, his curiosity aroused. “What about that fire, Ayla?”

She could sense he was asking a question, in the set of his shoulders and the expression on his face. He was paying attention. She looked around, trying to think of some way to tell him, and she saw the wood beside the fire. She picked up a stick, brought it to him, and held it up with the same hopeful look.

His forehead knotted in puzzlement, then smoothed as he thought he was beginning to understand. “Do you want the word for that?” he asked, wondering at her sudden interest in learning his language, when she seemed not to have any interest in speaking before. Speaking! She wasn’t exchanging a language with him, she was trying to speak! Could that be why she was so silent? Because she didn’t know how to speak?

He touched the stick in her hand. “Wood,” he said.

Her breath exploded out; she didn’t know she had been holding it. “Ud … ?” she tried.

“Wood,” he said slowly, exaggerating his mouth to enunciate clearly.

“Ooo-ud,” she said, trying to make her mouth mimic his.

“That’s better,” he said, nodding.

Her heart was pounding. Did he understand? She searched again, frantically, for something to keep it going. Her eyes fell on the cup. She picked it up and held it out,

“Are you trying to get me to teach you to talk?”

She didn’t understand, shook her head, and held the cup up again.

“Who are you, Ayla? Where do you come from? How can you do … everything you do, and not know how to talk? You are an enigma, but if I’m ever going to learn about you, I think I’m going to have to teach you to talk.”

She sat on her fur beside him, waiting, anxiously, still holding the cup. She was afraid that with all the words he was saying he would forget the one she asked for. She held the cup out to him once again.

“What do you want, ‘drink’ or ‘cup’? I don’t suppose it matters.” He touched the vessel she was holding. “Cup,” he said.

“Guh,” she responded, then smiled with relief.

Jondalar followed through on the idea. He reached for the waterbag of fresh water she had left for him and poured some into the cup. “Water,” he said.

“Ahddah.”

“Try it again, ‘water,’ ” he encouraged. “Ooo-ah-dah.”

Jondalar nodded, then held the cup to his lips and took a s

ip. “Drink,” he said. “Drink water.”

“Drringk,” she replied, quite clearly except for rolling the r and swallowing the word somewhat. “Drringk ooahdah.”

21

“Ayla, I can’t stand it in this cave anymore. Look at that sunshine! I know I’m healed enough to move a little, at least outside the cave.”

Ayla didn’t understand everything Jondalar said, but she knew enough to understand his complaint—and sympathize with it. “Knots,” she said, touching one of the stitches. “Cut knots. Morning see leg.”

He smiled as though he had won a victory. “You’re going to take out the knots, and then tomorrow morning I can go out of the cave.”

Language problems or not, Ayla was not going to be committed to more than she intended. “See,” she repeated emphatically. “Ayla look …” She struggled to express herself with her limited ability. “Leg no … heal, Don-da-lah no out.”

Jondalar smiled again. He knew he had overstated her meaning, hoping she would go along with him, but he was rather pleased that she was not taken in by his ploy and insisted on making herself understood. He might not get out of the cave tomorrow, but it meant that ultimately she would learn faster.

Teaching her to speak had become a challenge, and her progress pleased him, though it was uneven. He was intrigued by the way she learned. The extent of her vocabulary was already astounding; she seemed able to memorize words as fast as he could give them to her. He had spent the better part of one afternoon telling her the names of everything she and he could think of, and when they were through, she had repeated every word back to him with its correct association. But pronunciation was difficult for her. She could not produce some sounds right no matter how hard she tried, and she did try hard.