The Mammoth Hunters (Earth's Children 3)

“When did you last have your medicine?” Ayla asked, when he opened his eyes and she could look at him.

Rydag shook his head slightly. “Not help. Nothing help.”

“What do you mean, nothing will help? You’re not a medicine woman. How do you know? I’m the one who knows that,” Ayla said, trying to sound firm and positive.

He shook his head slightly again. “I know.”

“Well, I’m going to examine you, but first, I’m going to get you some medicine,” Ayla said, but it was more that she was afraid she would break down right there. He touched her hand as she started to leave.

“Not go.” He closed his eyes again, and she watched him struggle for one more tortured breath, and then another, powerless to do anything. “Wolf here?” he finally signed.

Ayla whistled, and whoever it was outside that had been trying to keep Wolf from going in the tent, suddenly found it impossible. He was there, jumping up on the boy’s bed, trying to lick his face. Rydag smiled. It was almost more than Ayla could stand, that smile on a Clan face that was so uniquely Rydag. The rambunctious young animal could be too much. Ayla motioned him down.

“I send Wolf. Want Ayla,” Rydag motioned again. “I want …”He didn’t seem to know the word in signs.

“What is it you want, Rydag?” Ayla encouraged.

“He tried to tell me,” Nezzie said. “But I couldn’t understand him. I hope you can. It seems so important to him.”

Rydag closed his eyes and wrinkled his brow, and Ayla had the feeling he was trying to remember something.

“Durc lucky. He … belongs. Ayla, I want … mog-ur.”

He was trying so hard, and it was taking so much out of him, but all Ayla could do was try to understand. “Mog-ur?” The sign was silent. “You mean a man of the spirit world?” Ayla said, aloud.

Rydag nodded, encouraged. But the expression on Nezzie’s face was unfathomable. “Is that what he’s been trying to say?” the woman asked.

“Yes, I think so,” Ayla said. “Does that help?”

Nezzie nodded, a short, clipped nod of anger. “I know what he wants. He doesn’t want to be an animal, he wants to go to the spirit world. He wants to be buried … like a person.”

Rydag was nodding now, agreeing.

“Of course,” Ayla said. “He is a person.” She looked perplexed.

“No. He’s not. He was never numbered among the Mamutoi. They wouldn’t accept him. They said he was an animal,” Nezzie said.

“You mean he cannot have a burial? He cannot walk the spirit world? Who says he can’t?” Ayla’s eyes blazed with fury.

“The Mammoth Hearth,” Nezzie said. “They won’t allow it.”

“Well, am I not the daughter of the Mammoth Hearth? I will allow it!” Ayla stated.

“It won’t do any good. Mamut would, too. The Mammoth Hearth has to agree, and they won’t agree,” Nezzie said.

Rydag had been listening, hopeful, but now his hope was dimming. Ayla saw his expression, his disappointment, and was more angry than she had ever been.

“The Mammoth Hearth doesn’t have to agree. They are not the ones who decide if someone is human or not. Rydag is a person. He is no more an animal than my son is. The Mammoth Hearth can keep their burial. He doesn’t need it. When the time comes, I will do it, the Clan way, the way I did it for Creb, the Mog-ur. Rydag will walk the world of the spirits, Mammoth Hearth or no!”

Nezzie glanced at the boy. He seemed more relaxed now. No, she decided. At peace. The strain, the tension, he had been showing was gone. He touched Ayla’s arm.

“I am not animal,” he signed.

He seemed about to say something else. Ayla waited. Then suddenly she realized there was no sound, no struggle to take one more tortured breath. He was not in pain any more.

But Ayla was. She looked up and saw Jondalar. He had been there all along, and his face was as racked with grief as hers, or Nezzie’s. Suddenly all three of them were clinging together, trying to find solace in each other.

Then another showed his grief. From the floor beneath Rydag’s bed, a low whine rose in a furry throat, then yips that extended and deepened and soared into Wolf’s first full, ringing howl.