The Land of Painted Caves (Earth's Children 6)

“Ayla had some root she brought with her from her Clan people,” Danug explained. “Apparently it was used by the ones who talk to the spirit world. Mamut wanted to try it, so Ayla prepared it the way she had been taught. I don’t know what happened, exactly, but no one could wake them up. Everyone was worried and we all had to chant. Finally Jondalar came and begged Ayla to come back, telling her how much he loved her. They’d been having some trouble—kind of like they are now. I don’t understand how two people who love each other so much can be so blind to each other’s feelings.”

“He has always had trouble with women like that. I don’t know if it’s pride or lack of perception,” Willamar said, shaking his head. “I thought when he brought Ayla home, he was past it. He’s fine if he really doesn’t care that much about a woman, but if he loves one, he seems to lose his sense and doesn’t know what to do. You should hear the stories about him, but that’s not important. What happened?”

“Jondalar just kept telling her he loved her and begging her to come back. Finally she woke up, and so did Mamut. Mamut told us later they would have been lost in some kind of a black void forever if Jondalar’s love hadn’t been so strong that it found its way to her; he brought her back, and him, too. Mamut said the roots were too strong; he could never control them, and would never try them again. He said he was afraid his spirit would be lost forever in that terrible place, and he warned Ayla against them, too.” Danug felt the blood drain from his face. “She’s done it again,” he said as he ran out of the tent. Then he wasn’t sure where to go. Finally he had an idea and he raced toward the camp of the Ninth Cave.

Several people were milling around the large cooking hearth, and he was relieved to see Jonayla. She had obviously been crying, and Wolf was whining and trying to lick the tears from her face. Marthona and Folara were trying to comfort her, too. They acknowledged the greeting of the big Mamutoi as he hunkered down in front of the little girl. He stroked Wolf’s head when the animal nosed his way closer to the familiar man.

“How are you, Jonayla?” he said.

“I want my mother, Danug,” she said, starting to cry. “My mother is sick. She won’t wake up.”

“I know she is. I think I know a way to help her,” Danug said.

“How?” she said, looking at him with wide eyes.

“She got sick like this once before, when she lived with us at the Lion Camp. I think Jondalar could wake her up. He’s the one who woke her up before. Do you know where Jondalar is, Jonayla?”

She shook her head. “I don’t see Jondy very much anymore. He goes away, sometimes all day.”

“Do you know where he goes?”

“Lots of times he walks up The River.”

“Does he take Wolf with him sometimes?”

“Yes, but not today.”

“Do you think Wolf could find him, if you told him to?”

Jonayla looked at Wolf, then back at Danug. “Maybe he could,” she said, then, with a tremulous smile, “Yes, I think he could.”

“If you tell Wolf to find Jondalar, I’ll follow him, and tell Jondalar to come back and wake your mother up,” Danug said.

“Mother and Jondy have not been talking very much. Maybe he won’t want to,” Jonayla said, with a worried frown. Danug thought that she looked exactly like Jondalar when she frowned like that.

“Don’t worry about that, Jonayla. Jondalar loves your mother very much, and she loves him. If he knew she was in trouble, he would run here as fast as he could. I know it,” Danug said.

“If he loves her, why doesn’t he talk to her, Danug?”

“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 gotten 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 gotten 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, of 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 Wolf, began to wonder if the animal was on the right trail. Could Jondalar have traveled 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 the 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.