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“She saw him, all right,” Proleva said, “with Marona.”

“I don’t understand Jondé sometimes,” Folara said. “Of all people, why couldn’t he leave her alone?”

“Probably because she wouldn’t leave him alone,” Proleva said. “His needs have always been strong. She made it too easy.”

“And then what does he do when she decides to take her turn at the Festival?” Folara said. “It’s not like she didn’t have the right.”

“Right or not, she didn’t do it because she wanted to celebrate the Mother at the Festival,” Zelandoni said. “She did it out of hurt and anger; that’s why she chose the man she did. She didn’t want Laramar, she wanted to get back at Jondalar. That doesn’t Honor the Mother, and she knows it. Neither of them is without fault, but I think both of them are trying to take all the blame on themselves, and that doesn’t help.”

“No matter who takes the blame, Jondalar will still a have a harsh penalty to pay,” Marthona said.

“I can’t blame Laramar for not wanting to return to the Ninth Cave, and I’m glad the Fifth was willing to take him in, but his mate doesn’t want to move,” Proleva said. “She says the Ninth Cave is her home. She does have a good location, but if she stays without a mate, who’s going to take care of that brood of hers?”

“Or supply the barma she drinks every day,” Folara said.

“That may be what will encourage her to move to the Fifth,” Zelandoni said.

“Unless her eldest son takes over,” Proleva said. “He’s been learning to make that barma for several years. Some say his is better than Laramar’s, and there are enough people along our section of The River who would rather have a nearby source.”

“Well, don’t suggest it to him,” Marthona said.

“It won’t make any difference. If we can think of it, someone else is bound to as well,” Proleva said.

Zelandoni noticed two more people joining the ones who were chanting, and one leaving. She nodded her approval to them, then glanced at Ayla. Did her skin seem more gray? She hadn’t moved but somehow she seemed to have sunk deeper into the bed. The Donier didn’t like the way she looked. She went back to her explanation.

“I was saying that I wanted to try to help Ayla get her mind off her problems, to get her to talk about other things that are usually of great interest to her. That’s why I asked her about this Clan root, but I’m not without fault, either. I was too anxious to learn about it. I should have been paying closer attention to her. I should have seen how upset she really was. And I should have believed her about the potency of the Clan root. I took only one drink, and had to struggle to maintain control. It is far more powerful than I ever imagined,” Zelandoni said.

“I’m afraid Ayla is lost somewhere in the world of the spirits. The only thing I really remember her saying is that chanting was the tie that kept her bound to this world, and I could feel the pull of it when I was somewhat lost from just the one drink. I will be honest with you. I don’t know what else to do for her, except to keep her warm and chant and hope it wears off soon.”

“The Clan root—she told me about that,” Marthona said. “The one she calls Mamut said he would never try that root again, that he was afraid he would be lost forever. He told her it was too powerful, and he warned Ayla never to use it again.”

The First frowned. “Why didn’t she tell me Mamut told her not to use that root? He was One Who Serves; he would know. Ayla was a little reluctant to try it at first, but she never told me why. And then she seemed perfectly willing, even performing Clan rituals for it. She didn’t tell me Mamut had warned her against it,” Zelandoni said, quite distraught.

The First got up and checked Ayla again. She was still cold and clammy, and her breath was hardly noticeable. If the Donier had just seen her, and touched her, she would have thought Ayla was dead. She lifted her eyelid. There was only a slight response. Zelandoni had thought, hoped, that all Ayla needed was time for the effects to wear off. Now she was beginning to wonder if anything would bring her out of it.

She looked around, beckoned to a particular acolyte. “Massage her, gently. Try to bring some color to her skin, and let’s try to get some warm tea into her, something stimulating.” And then louder, so everyone could hear, “Does anyone know where Jondalar is?”

“He’s been taking long walks lately, usually by The River,” Marthona said.

“I saw him practically running in that direction earlier,” an acolyte said.

Zelandoni stood, and clapped her hands for everyone’s attention. “Ayla’s spirit is lost in the void, and she can’t find her way back. She may not even be able to find her way to the Mother. We have to find Jondalar. If we d

on’t get Jondalar here, she will never find her way back; she won’t even have the will to try. Search the whole Campsite, every tent; get everyone looking for him. Search the woods, up and down The River; search in The River if we have to. Just get him here. Fast.” Zelandoni was more agitated and upset than most people had ever seen her.

Everyone except for those who were needed to chant rushed out of the lodge and scattered in all directions. When they were gone, the One Who Was First To Serve The Mother examined Ayla again. She was still cold, and her skin was turning gray. She’s giving up, the Donier thought. I don’t think she wants to live. Jondalar may already be too late.

One of the acolytes burst into the fa’lodge used by Jondalar and the two Mamutoi visitors. Willamar and Dalanar were also in the lodge. They had come to look for Jondalar, too. The young acolyte had only seen the tall, red-haired man from a distance and didn’t realize how big he was up close. He felt a bit overwhelmed.

“Do you know where Jondalar is?” the young man asked.

“No. I haven’t seen him since early this morning,” Danug replied. “Why?”

“It’s the new Zelandoni. She drank some liquid that she made from a root and now her spirit is in some dark void and the First said we have to find Jondalar and bring him right away or she will die and her spirit will be lost forever,” he said all in one breath without stopping. He finally caught his breath. “We’re supposed to search everywhere, and ask everyone to help look for him,” the acolyte said.

“Could it be that root she took with Mamut?” Danug asked, looking at Druwez with consternation.

“What root is that?” Dalanar asked, quick to notice their worry.


Tags: Jean M. Auel Earth's Children Fantasy