"Jondalar, do your people have any special customs about wanting children?" Ayla asked. "Women of the Clan are always supposed to want sons."
"No, not really. I think men want a woman to bring sons to his hearth, but I think women like to have daughters first."
"What would you like to have? Someday?"
He turned to study her in the light of the fire. Something seemed to be bothering her. "Ayla, it doesn't matter to me. Whatever you want; or whatever the Mother gives you."
Now it was her turn to study him. She wanted to be sure he really meant it. "Then I think I'm going to wish for a daughter. I don't want to lose any more children."
Jondalar didn't quite know what she meant and didn't know how to respond. "I don't want you to lose any more children, either."
They sat quietly while Ayla worked on the sun hats. Suddenly, he asked, "Ayla, what if you are right? What if children are not given by Doni? What if they are started by sharing Pleasures? You could have a baby starting inside you right now, and not even know it."
"No, Jondalar. I don't think so. I think my moon time is coming on," she said, "and you know that means no babies have started."
She didn't usually like to talk about such personal matters with a man, but Jondalar had always been comfortable around her then, not like the Clan men. A woman of the Clan had to be especially careful not to look directly at a man when she was going through her woman's curse. But even if she wanted to, she couldn't exactly go into seclusion or avoid Jondalar while they were traveling, and she sensed that he needed reassurance. She considered, for a moment, telling him about Iza's secret medicine that she had been taking to fight off any impregnating essences, but she couldn't do it. Ayla could no more tell a lie than Iza could, but, short of a direct question, she could retrain from mentioning it. If she didn't bring it up, it wasn't likely that a man would think to ask if she was doing something to prevent pregnancy.
Most people wouldn't think it was possible that such powerful magic could exist.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Yes, I'm sure," she said. "I am not pregnant. No baby has started growing inside me." He relaxed then.
As Ayla was finishing up the sun hats, she felt a soft sprinkling of rain. She hurried to finish. They brought everything inside the tent with them, except the parfleche hanging from the poles, and even the damp Wolf seemed happy to curl up at Ayla's feet. She left the lower part of the entrance flap open for him, in case he needed to go out, but they closed the smoke-hole flap when the rain began coming down harder. They cuddled together when they first lay down, then rolled over, but they both had trouble sleeping.
Ayla was feeling anxious, and achy, but she tried not to toss and turn too much so she wouldn't disturb Jondalar. She listened to the pattering of rain on the tent, but it didn't full her to sleep the way it usually did, and after a long while she wished it were morning so she could just get up and leave.
Jondalar, after all his worry, and being reassured that Ayla had not been blessed by Doni, began to wonder, again, if there was something wrong with him. He lay awake thinking, wondering if his spirit, or whatever essence it was that Doni took from him, was strong enough, or if the Mother had forgiven him his youthful indiscretions and would allow it.
Maybe it was her. Ayla said she wanted a child. But, with all the time they spent together, if she wasn't pregnant, it could be that she couldn't have children. Serenio never had any more… unless she was expecting when he left… As he stared into the darkness of the inside of the tent, listening to the rain, he wondered if any of the women he had known had ever given birth, and if any babies had been born with his blue eyes.
Ayla was climbing, climbing, a steep rocky wall, like the steep path up to her cave in the valley, but it was much longer, and she had to hurry. She looked down at the small river swirling around the bend, but it wasn't a river. It was a waterfall, cascading in a wide spray over jutting rocks softened by lush green moss.
She looked up, and there was Creb! He was beckoning to her and making the sign to hurry. He turned around and started climbing, too, leaning heavily on his staff, leading her up a steep but climbable grade beside the waterfall, toward a small cave in a rocky wall bidden by hazelnut bushes. Above the cave, at the top of a cliff, was a large, flattened boulder tilting over the edge, ready to fall.
Suddenly she was deep in the cave, following a long, narrow passage. There was a light! A torch with its beckoning flame, and then another, and then the sickening roar of an earthquake. A wolf howled. She felt a whirling, spinning vertigo, and then Creb was inside her mind. "Get out!" he commanded. "Hurry! Get out now!"
She sat up with a start, throwing her sleeping furs off, and bolted for the tent opening.
"Ayla! What is it!" Jondalar said, grabbing her.
Suddenly a brilliant flash of light could be seen through the skin of the tent, and in a bright outline around the seams of the smoke-hole flap, and the crack around the entrance left open for Wolf. It was followed almost instantly by a loud, sharp boom. Ayla screamed, and Wolf howled outside the tent.
"Ayla, Ayla. It's all right," the man said, holding her in his arms. "It's just lightning and thunder."
"We have to get out! He said to hurry. Get out now!" she said, fumbling into her clothes.
"Who said? We can't go out there. It dark, and it's raining."
"Creb. In my dream. I had that dream again, with Creb. He said. Come on, Jondalar! We have to hurry."
"Ayla, calm down. It was just a dream, and probably the storm. Listen to it. It sounds like a waterfall out there. You don't want to go out in that rain. Let's wait until morning."
"Jondalar! I have to go. Creb told me to, and I can't stand this place," she said. "Please, Jondalar. Hurry." Tears were streaming down her face, though she was oblivious to them, as she piled things into pack baskets.
He decided he might as well. It was obvious she wasn't going to wait until morning, and he'd never get back to sleep now. He reached for his clothes while Ayla opened the entrance flap. The rain poured in as though someone had spilled it from a waterbag. She went outside and whistled, loud and long. It was followed by another wolf howl. After a wait, Ayla whistled again, then began tearing the tent stakes out of the ground.
She heard the hoofbeats of the horses and cried with relief to see them, though the salt of her tears was lost in the pouring deluge. She reached out to Whinney, her friend who had come to help her, and hugged the soaking-wet mare around the sturdy neck and felt the frightened horse shivering. She swished her tail and circled nervously with small prancing steps; at the same time she turned her head and flicked her ears back and forth, trying to find and identify the source of her apprehension. The horse's fears helped the woman bring her own under control. Whinney needed her. She spoke to the animal in gentling tones, stroking and trying to calm her, and then felt Racer leaning on them, if anything more frightened than his dam.
She tried to settle him, but he soon backed away in prancing little steps. She left them together while she hurried to the tent for the harnesses and pack baskets. Jondalar had rolled up sleeping furs and piled them in his pack before he heard the sound of hooves, and he had gotten harnesses and Racer's halter ready.
"The horses are very frightened, Jondalar," Ayla said when she came into the tent. "I think Racer's ready to bolt. Whinney is calming him a little, but she's scared, too, and he's making her more nervous."