Why hadn't he noticed that before? The days had passed so quickly and the weather had been so pleasant that he hadn't paid attention to the changing season. He suddenly recalled that they were facing south in a southern region of the land. It could be much later into the season than he thought, and much colder to the north, where they were heading. As he hurried back to the dwelling, he was more determined than ever that they had to leave very soon.

"You're awake," Ayla said, entering with Darvalo while Jondalar was dressing. "I was coming to get you before all the food was put away."

"I was just putting something warm on. It's cool out there," he said. "It will soon be time to let my beard grow."

Ayla knew he was telling her more than his words said. He was still talking about the same thing they had talked about the night before; the season was changing and they had to be on their way. She didn't want to talk about it.

"We should probably unpack our winter clothes and make sure they are undamaged, Ayla. Are the pack baskets still at Dolando's?" he said.

He knows they are. Why is he asking me? You know why, Ayla said to herself, trying to think of something to change the subject.

"Yes, they are," Darvalo said, trying to be helpful.

"I need a warmer shirt. Do you remember what basket my winter clothes were in, Ayla?"

Of course she did. So did he.

"The clothes you are wearing now aren't anything like the ones you wore when you first came, Jondalar," Darvalo said.

"These were given to me by a Mamutoi woman. When I came before, I was still wearing my Zelandonii clothes."

"I tried on the shirt you gave me this morning. It's still too big for me, but not as much," the young man said.

"Do you still have that shirt, Darvo? I've almost forgotten what it looks like."

"Do you want to see it?"

"Yes. Yes, I would," Jondalar said.

In spite of herself, Ayla was curious, too.

They walked the few steps to Dolando's wooden shelter. From a shelf above his bed, Darvalo took down a carefully wrapped package. He untied the cord, opened the soft leather wrapping, and held up the shirt.

It was unusual, Ayla thought. The decorative patterns, as well as the longer style and looser cut were not at all like the Mamutoi clothing she was used to. One thing surprised her more than anything else. It was decorated with black-tipped white ermine tails.

It even looked strange to Jondalar. So much had happened since he had last worn that shirt, it seemed almost quaint, old-fashioned. He hadn't worn it much in the years he lived with the Sharamudoi, preferring to dress like the others, and though it was only a few moons longer than a year since he had given it to Darvo, it felt like ages since he had seen clothing from his homeland.

"It's supposed to fit loose, Darvo. You wear it belted. Go ahead and put it on. I'll show you. Do you have something to tie around you?" Jondalar said.

The young man pulled the highly decorated and patterned tunic-style leather shirt over his head, then handed Jondalar a long leather thong. The man told Darvo to stretch up, then belted it fairly low, almost at the hips, so that it bloused in a way that made the ermine tails hang free.

"See? It's not so big on you, Darvo," Jondalar said. "What do you think, Ayla?"

"It's unusual, I've never seen a shirt like that. But I think it looks fine, Darvalo," she said.

"I like it," the young man said, holding out his arms and looking down, trying to see how it looked. Maybe he'd wear it the next time they went to visit the Sharamudoi downriver. She might like it, that girl he'd noticed.

"I'm glad I had a chance to show you how to wear it…" Jondalar said, "before we left."

"When are you leaving?" Darvalo asked, looking startled.

"Tomorrow, or the day after at the latest," Jondalar said, looking straight at Ayla. "As soon as we can get ready."

"The rains may have started on that side of the mountains," Dolando said, "and you remember what the Sister is like when she's flooding."

"I hope it won't be as bad as that," Jondalar said. "We'd need one of your big boats to cross."

"If you want to go by boat, we would take you to the Sister," Carlono said.

"We need to get more bog myrtle, anyway," Carolio added, "and that's where we go for it."

"I would be happy to go up the river in your boat, but I don't think the horses can ride in one," Jondalar said.

"Didn't you say they can swim across rivers? Maybe they could swim behind the boat," Carlono suggested. "And the wolf could ride."

"Yes, horses can swim across a river, but it's a long way to the Sister, several days as I recall," Jondalar said, "and I don't think they could swim upriver for such a long distance."

"There is a way over the mountains," Dolando said. "You'll have to do a little backtracking, then go up and around one of the lower peaks, but the trail is marked and it will, eventually, take you close to where the Sister joins the Mother. There is a high ridge just to the south that makes it easy to see even from a distance, once you reach the lowland to the west."

"But would that be the best place to cross the Sister?" Jondalar asked, remembering the wide swirling waters from the last time.

"Perhaps not, but from there you can follow the Sister north until you find a better place, although she's not an easy river. Her feeders come down out of the mountains hard and fast, her current is much swifter than the Mother's, and she's more treacherous," Carlono said. "A few of us once went upstream on her for almost a moon. She stayed swift and difficult the whole time."

"It's the Mother I need to follow to get back, and that means crossing the Sister," Jondalar said.

"Then I'll wish you well."

"You'll need food," Roshario said, "and I have something I'd like to give you, Jondalar."

"We don't have much room to take anything extra," Jondalar said.

"It is for your mother," Roshario said, "Jetamio's favorite necklace. I saved it to give to Thonolan, if he came back. It won't take much room. After her mother died, Jetamio needed to know she belonged somewhere. I told her to remember she was always Sharamudoi. She made the necklace out of chamois teeth and the backbones of a small sturgeon, to represent the land and the river. I thought your mother might want something that belonged to her son's chosen woman."

"You're right. She would," Jondalar said. "Thank you. I know it will mean a great deal to Marthona."

"Where is Ayla? I have something to give her, too. I hope she will have room for it," Roshario said.

"She's in with Tholie, packing," Jondalar said. "She doesn't really want to leave, yet, not until your arm is healed. But we really can't wait any longer."

"I'm sure I'll be fine." Roshario fell into step beside him as they walked toward the dwellings. "Ayla took off the old birchbark and put on a fresh piece yesterday. Except that it's smaller from not using it, my arm seems healed, but she wants me to keep this on for a while longer. She says once I start using my arm again, it will fill out."

"I'm sure it will."

"I don't know what is taking the runner and the Shamud so long to get here, but Ayla has explained what to do, not only to me, but to Dolando, Tholie, Carolio, and several others. We'll manage without her, I'm sure – although we would rather you both stayed. It's not too late to change your mind…"

"It means more to me than I can tell you, Roshario, that you would welcome us so willingly… especially with Dolando, and Ayla's… upbringing…"

She stopped and looked at the tall man. "That's bothered you, hasn't it?"

Jondalar felt the red heat of embarrassment. "It did," he admitted. "It really doesn't any more, but knowing how Dolando felt about them, that you would still accept her, makes it… I can't explain it. It relieves me. I don't want her to be hurt. She's been through enough."