"But isn't it cold on that glacier you want to cross?"

"Of course, it's cold on the glacier, too, but it's a shorter way, and on the other side it's only a few days to Dalanar's Cave." Jondalar put down the map to take the cup of hot tea Ayla was handing him, and he stared into the steaming contents for a while. "I suppose we could try a northern route around the highland glacier, if we had to, but I would not want to. That's flathead country, anyway," Jondalar tried to explain.

"You mean people of the Clan live north of that glacier we're supposed to cross?" Ayla asked, stopping just as she was taking the tea holder out of her cup. She was feeling a strange mixture of dread and excitement.

"I'm sorry. I guess I should call them Clan people, but they are not the same as the ones you knew. They live very far from here, you would not believe how far. They are not the same at all."

"But they are, Jondalar," Ayla said, then took a sip of the hot, flavorful liquid. "Maybe their everyday language and ways might be a little different, but all Clan people have the same memories, at least the older memories. Even at the Clan Gathering, everyone knew the ancient sign language that is used to address the spirit world, and spoke to each other with it," Ayla said.

"But they don't want us in their territory," Jondalar said. "They already let us know that when Thonolan and I happened to be on the wrong side of the river."

"I'm sure that's true. People of the Clan don't like to be around the Others. So, if we can't cross the glacier when we get there, and we can't go around it, then what do we do?" Ayla asked, going back to the original problem. "Can't we wait until the glacier is safe to cross again?"

"Yes. I suppose we'd have to, but it might be almost a year until the next winter."

"But if we waited a year, then we could make it? Is there a place we could wait?"

"Well, yes, there are people we could stay with. The Losadunai have always been friendly. But I want to get home, Ayla," he said, with a tone of such anguish that it made her realize just how important it was to him. "I want us to get settled."

"I want to get settled, too, Jondalar, and I think we should do everything we can to try to get there while it's still safe to cross the glacier. But if it's too late, it doesn't mean we won't get back to your home. It only means a longer wait. And we would still be together."

"That's true," Jondalar said, acquiescing but not happy. "I guess it wouldn't be so bad if we did get there late, but I don't want to wait around for a whole year," he said, and then his frown tightened. "And maybe if we went the other way, we would get there in time. It's still not too late."

"There is another way to go?"

"Yes, Talut told me we could go around the north end of the mountain range we'll be coming to. And Rutan of Feather Grass Camp said the route was northwest of here. I've been thinking that maybe we should go that way, but I had hoped to see the Sharamudoi once more. If I don't see them now, I'm afraid I never will, and they live around the south end of the mountains, along the Great Mother River," Jondalar explained.

Ayla nodded, thinking, Now I understand. "The Sharamudoi are the people you lived with for a while; your brother mated a woman of those people, right?"

"Yes, they are like family to me."

"Then of course we must go south so you can visit them one last time. They are people you love. If it means we may not get to the glacier in time, then we'll wait until the next season for crossing. Even if it means waiting another year before we reach your home, don't you think it would be worth it to see your other family again? If part of the reason you want to go home is to tell your mother about your brother, don't you think the Sharamudoi would like to know what happened to him? They were his family, too."

Jondalar frowned, then brightened. "You're right, Ayla. They would want to know about Thonolan. I've been so worried about whether I made the right decision, I just didn't think it through." He smiled his relief.

Jondalar watched the flames dancing over the blackened sticks of wood, leaping and cavorting in their short-lived joy as they beat back the encroaching dark. He sipped his tea, still thinking about the long Journey ahead of them, but he didn't feel quite as anxious about it. He looked over at Ayla. "It was a good idea to talk it over. I guess I'm still not used to having someone around that I can talk to about… things. And I think we can make it in time or I wouldn't have decided to go this way in the first place. It will make a longer trip, but at least I know this route. I don't know the northern way."

"I think you made the right decision, Jondalar. If I could, if I hadn't been cursed with death, I would visit Bran's clan," Ayla said, then added, so low that he could hardly hear her, "If I could, if I only could, I would go to see Durc one last time." The forlorn, empty sound of her voice made him aware that she was feeling her loss acutely just then.

"Do you want to try to find him, Ayla?"

"Yes, of course I want to, but I can't. It would only cause everyone distress. I was cursed. If they saw me they would think I was an evil spirit. I am dead to them, and there isn't anything I could do or say that would convince them that I am alive." Ayla's eyes seemed to be looking far away, but they were seeing an inner vision, a memory.

"Besides, Durc isn't the baby I left behind. He is getting close to manhood, though I was late in reaching womanhood, for a woman of the Clan. He is my son, and he may lag behind the other boys, too. But soon Ura will be coming to live with Bran's clan – no, it's Brood's clan now," Ayla said, frowning. "This is the summer of the Clan Gathering, so this fall Ura will leave her clan and go to live with Bran and Ebra, and when they are both old enough, she will be Durc's mate." She paused, then added, "I wish I could be there to welcome her, but I would only scare her, and maybe make her think Durc is unlucky, if the spirit of his strange mother won't stay where she belongs in the other world."

"Are you sure, Ayla? I mean it, we'll take the time to look for them, if you want," Jondalar said.

"Even if I wanted to find him," she said, "I wouldn't know where to look. I don't know where their new cave is, and I don't know where the Clan Gathering is. It is not meant for me to see Durc. He is not my son any more. I gave him to Uba. He is Uba's son now." Ayla looked up at Jondalar. He noticed that tears were threatening. "I knew when Rydag died I would never see Durc again. I buried Rydag in Durc's carrying cloak, the one I took with me when I left the Clan, and in my heart, I buried Durc at the same time. I know I will never see Durc again. I am dead to him, and it's best if he is dead to me."

The tears were wetting her cheeks, though she seemed oblivious to them, as though she didn't know they had begun. "I'm really lucky, you know. Think of Nezzie. Rydag was a son to her, she nursed him even if she didn't give birth to him, and she knew she would lose him. She even knew that no matter how long he lived, he would never have a normal life. Other mothers who lose their sons can only imagine them in another world, living with spirits, but I can imagine Durc here, always safe, always lucky, always happy. I can think of him living with Ura, having children at his hearth… even if I will never see them." The sob in her voice finally opened the way to let her grief out.

Jondalar took her in his arms and held her. Thinking of Rydag made him sad, too. There was nothing anyone could have done for him, though everyone knew Ayla had tried. He was a weak child. Nezzie said he always had been. But Ayla had given him something no one else could. After she came and started teaching him, and the rest of the Lion Camp, to talk the way the Clan did, with hand signs, he was happier than he had ever been. It was the first time in all his young life that he had been able to communicate with the people he loved. He could let his needs and wishes be known, and he could let people know how he felt, especially Nezzie, who had taken care of him since his real mother died, at his birth. He could finally tell her that he loved her.