"Jondalar, why are you blaming yourself?" Ayla asked. "You are not stupid. You could not foresee what would happen. Not even One Who Serves the Mother can do it very well. It's never clear. And we did make it. We're here now, and everyone is all right, thanks to you, including Wolf. We even have the boat, and who knows how useful that might still be."

"But I almost lost you," he said, burying his head in her neck and clutching her so hard that it hurt, though she did not stop him. "I can't tell you how much I love you. I care about you so much, but the words that say it are so small. They are not enough to say what I feel for you." He held her close as if he thought that by holding her tight enough, he could somehow make her part of him, and would therefore never lose her.

She held him tightly, too, loving him and wishing she could do something to relieve his anguish and suddenly overwhelming need. Then she realized she knew what to do. She breathed in his ear and kissed his neck. His response was immediate. He kissed her with a fierce passion, caressing her arms and molding her breasts in his hands, sucking on her nipples with a hungry need. She put her leg around him, and rolled him over on top of her, then opened her thighs. He backed away, prodding and groping with his full member, trying to find her opening. She reached down and helped to guide him in, and she found herself as eager for him as he was for her.

As he plunged in and felt the warm embrace of her deep well, he moaned with the sudden indescribable sensation. All his nightmarish thoughts and fearful worries fled for the moment as the sensuous joy of this wondrous Gift of Pleasure from the Mother filled him, leaving no room for any other thoughts except his love for her. He pulled out, and then he felt her motion match his as they came together again. Her response incited stronger passions in him.

As they backed away and drew together again, he felt so right that she didn't think at all. His body and hers flowed apart and back together in a rhythmic pattern that she gave herself up to completely as it grew faster, glorying in the senses of that moment. Individual fires of feeling raced through her, centering deep within, as they moved back and forth.

He was feeling himself build with volcanic power, waves of excitement washing over him, engulfing him, and then almost before he knew it, bursting through with sweet release. As he moved the last few times, he felt a few aftershocks from the violent eruption, and then the warm and glowing feeling of utter relaxation.

He lay on top of her, catching his breath after the sudden and powerful exertion. She closed her eyes with contentment. After a time he rolled off and cuddled next to her, as she backed into him. Nesting together like two ladles, they lay quietly, happily entwined together.

After quite a long time, Ayla said softly, "Jondalar?"

"Hmmm?" he mumbled. He was in a pleasant, languorous state, not sleepy, but not wanting to move.

"How many more rivers like that will we have to cross?" she asked.

He reached over and kissed her ear. "None."

"None?"

"None, because there are no other rivers quite like the Sister," Jondalar explained.

"Not even the Great Mother River?"

"Not even the Mother is as fast and treacherous, or as dangerous as the Sister," he said, "but we won't be crossing the Great Mother River. We'll stay on this side most of the way to the plateau glacier. When we get close to the ice, there are some people I'd like to visit who live on the other side of the Mother. But that's a long way from here, and by then she will be little more than a mountain stream." He rolled over on his back. "Not that we don't have some good-size rivers to get across yet, but across these plains, the Mother branches into many channels that split off and join again. By the time we see her all together again, she will be so much smaller that you'll hardly recognize her as the Great Mother River."

"Without all the water from the Sister, I'm not sure if I'd recognize her," Ayla said.

"I think you would. As big as the Sister is, when they join, the Mother is still bigger. There is a major river that feeds from the other side just before the Wooded Hills that turn her east. Thonolan and I met some people who took us across on rafts at that place. Several more feeders come in from the big mountains to the west, but we'll be going north up the center plain, and we won't even see them."

Jondalar sat up. The conversation had put him in the mood to think about getting on their way, although they wouldn't be leaving until the following morning. He was rested and relaxed, and he didn't feel like staying in bed any more.

"We won't be crossing many rivers at all until we reach the highlands to the north," he continued. "At least, that's what Haduma's people told me. They say there are a few hills, but it's pretty flat country. Most of the rivers we'll see will be channels of the Mother. They say she wanders all over the place through here. It's good hunting grounds, though. Haduma's people cross the channels all the time to hunt here."

"Haduma's people? I think you told me about them, but you never said much," Ayla said, getting up as well, and reaching for her pack-saddle basket.

"We didn't visit with them long, just long enough for a…" Jondalar hesitated, thinking about the First Rites he had shared with the pretty young woman, Noria. Ayla noticed a strange expression, as though he was slightly embarrassed, but also pleased with himself. "… Ceremony, a festival," he finished.

"A festival to honor the Great Earth Mother?" Ayla asked.

"Ah… yes, as a matter of fact. They asked me… ah, they asked Thonolan and me, to share it with them."

"Are we going to visit Haduma's people?" Ayla said from the opening, holding a Sharamudoi chamois skin to dry herself with after she washed in the creek by the willows.

"I'd like to, but I don't know where they live," Jondalar said. Then, seeing her puzzled expression, he quickly explained. "Some of their hunters found our camp, and then they sent for Haduma. She was the one who decided to have the festival, and she sent for the rest." He paused, thinking back. "Haduma was quite a woman. She was the oldest person I've ever met. Even older than Mamut. She's the mother of six generations." At least I hope so, he thought. "I really would like to see her again, but we can't take the time to look for them. I imagine she's dead by now, anyway, although her son, Tamen, would still be alive. He was the only one who spoke Zelandonii."

Ayla went out, and Jondalar was feeling a strong need to pass his water. He quickly pulled his tunic over his head and went outside, too. While he was holding his member, watching the steaming arc of strong-smelling yellow water pouring on the ground, he wondered if Noria ever did have the baby Haduma said she would, and if that organ he was holding was responsible for it.

He noticed Ayla heading toward the willows with only the chamois skin thrown over her shoulders. He supposed he ought to go and wash, too, although he'd had his fill of cold water today. It wasn't that he wouldn't get into it, if he had to, crossing the river, for example, but it hadn't seemed that washing frequently in cold water was so important when he was traveling with his brother.

And it wasn't that Ayla ever said anything to him, but since she never let cold water stop her, he felt he could hardly use that as an excuse to avoid washing himself – and he had to admit he liked the fact that she usually smelled so fresh. But sometimes she actually broke through ice to reach water, and he wondered how she stood it so cold.

At least she was up and around. He had thought they might have to make camp for several days, as chilled as she was, or even that she might get sick. Maybe all that cold washing has made her accustomed to cold water, he said to himself. Maybe a little washing wouldn't hurt me, either. He came to the realization that he had been watching the way her bare bottom peeked below the edge of the hide, moving back and forth enticingly as she walked.