“How far could he be, Nezzie? Walking? I can walk fast, maybe I
can catch up with him. Maybe I should go after him and see what he wanted to talk to me about. Oh, Nezzie, I should be with him. I love him.”
“Then, go after him, child. If you want him, if you love him, go after him. Tell him how you feel. At least give him the chance to tell you what he wanted to say.”
“You’re right!” Ayla wiped away tears with the back of her hand and tried to think. “That’s what I should do. I’m going to do it. Right now!” she said, and started running down the path, even before Nezzie could say another word. She raced across the stepping-stones of the river, and into the field. Then she stopped. She didn’t know which way to go, she’d have to track him, and it would take forever to catch up with him this way.
Suddenly, Nezzie heard two piercing whistles. She smiled as the wolf zipped past her, and Whinney perked her ears and followed him. Racer trailed after. She watched down the slope as the wolf loped toward the young woman.
When he got closer, Ayla signaled, and spoke. “Find Jondalar, Wolf. Find Jondalar!”
The wolf started sniffing the ground and the air currents, and when he started off, Ayla noticed the slight traces of trampled grass and broken twigs. She leaped on Whinney’s back, and followed.
It was only after she started riding that the questions came to her. What am I going to say to him? How can I tell him that he promised to take me with him? What if he won’t listen? What if he doesn’t want me?
Rain had washed the coating of volcanic ash from trees and leaves, but Jondalar strode through the meadows and woodlands of the floodplain oblivious to the beauty of a rare summer day. He didn’t quite know where he was going, he just followed the river, but with each step that took him farther away, his thoughts weighed heavier.
Why am I leaving without her? Why am I traveling alone? Maybe I should go back, ask her to come with me? But she doesn’t want to come with you. She’s a Mamutoi. These are her people. She chose Ranec, not you, Jondalar, he said to himself. Yes, she chose Ranec, but did you give her any choice? Then he stopped. What was it Mamut said? Something about choice? “A choice cannot be made if there is none to make.” What did he mean?
Jondalar shook his head in exasperation, and then, he realized, he knew. I never gave her a choice. Ayla didn’t choose Ranec, at least not at first. Maybe the night of the adoption she had a choice … or did she? She was raised by the Clan. No one ever told her she had a choice. And then I pushed her away. Why didn’t I give her a choice before I left? Because she wouldn’t talk to you.
No, because you were afraid she wouldn’t choose you. Stop lying to yourself. After all that time, she finally decided not to talk to you, and you were afraid she wouldn’t choose you, that’s why, Jondalar. So you didn’t give her the chance. Are you any better off now?
Why don’t you go back and give her a choice? At least make the offer? But what will you say to her? She’s getting ready for the big ceremony. What will you offer? What can you offer?
You could offer to stay. You could even offer to co-mate with Ranec. Could you stand that? Could you share her with Ranec? If the only other choice is not having her at all, could you stay here and share her?
Jondalar stood still, closed his eyes, and frowned. Only if he had no other choice. What he wanted most was to take her home, and make it her home. The Mamutoi had accepted her, were the Zelandonii less accepting? Some of them, maybe not all of them, but he couldn’t promise.
Ranec has the Lion Camp, and many other affiliations. You can’t even offer her your people, your affiliations. You don’t know if they will accept her, or you. You don’t have anything to offer, except yourself.
If he could offer her no more than that, what would they do if his people wouldn’t accept them? We could go someplace else. We could even come back here. He frowned. That’s a lot of traveling. Maybe he should just offer to stay, establish himself here. Tarneg said he wanted a flint knapper for his new Camp. What about Ranec? More important, what about Ayla? What if she didn’t want him at all?
Jondalar was so engrossed in his thoughts, he didn’t hear the dull thud of hoofbeats until Wolf suddenly jumped up on him.
“Wolf? What are you doing …” He looked up and stared in disbelief as Ayla slid off Whinney’s back.
She walked toward him, shy now, so afraid he would turn his back on her again. How could she tell him? How could she make him listen? What could she do if he wouldn’t listen to her? Then she recalled those first wordless days, and the way she had learned to ask someone to listen a lifetime ago. She dropped to the ground, gracefully, from long practice, and bowed her head, and waited.
Jondalar gaped at her, didn’t understand for a moment, then remembered. It was her signal. When she wanted to tell him something important, but didn’t have the words, she used that Clan signal. But why was she speaking to him in the language of the Clan now? What did she want to tell him that was so important?
“Get up,” he said. “You don’t have to do that.” Then he remembered the proper response. He tapped her shoulder. When Ayla looked up, she had tears in her eyes. He hunkered down on one knee to wipe them away. “Ayla, why are you doing this? Why are you here?”
“Jondalar, yesterday you tried to tell me something, and I wouldn’t listen to you. Now I want to tell you something. It is difficult to say, but I want you to listen. That’s why I’m asking you this way. Will you listen, and not turn away?”
Hope blazed so hot Jondalar couldn’t speak. He only nodded, and held her hands.
“Once you wanted me to go away with you,” she began, “and I didn’t want to leave the valley.” She stopped to take a deep breath. “Now, I want to go with you, anywhere with you. Once you told me that you loved me, that you wanted me. Now, I think you don’t want to love me, but I still want to go with you.”
“Get up, Ayla, please,” he said, helping her up. “What about Ranec? I thought you wanted him.” His arms were still around her.
“I don’t love Ranec. I love you, Jondalar. I never stopped loving you. I don’t know what I did to make you stop loving me.”
“You love me? You still love me? Oh, Ayla, my Ayla,” Jondalar said, crushing her to him. Then he looked at her as though he was seeing her for the first time, and his eyes filled with his love. She reached up and his mouth found hers. They came together, holding each other, with a hard and tender passion, full of love, full of longing.
Ayla couldn’t believe she was in his arms, that he was holding her, wanting her, loving her, after all this time. Tears filled her eyes, then she tried to stop them, afraid he would misunderstand them again, then she didn’t care and let the tears fall.
He looked down at her beautiful face. “You’re crying, Ayla.”