She hesitated, then got a cup from a shelf.

"Where can I fill your waterbag?" he asked when he was through. "Is there a favorite place nearby?"

"Don't worry about the water," she said.

He walked closer and looked at her, realizing she was not going to let him walk freely, not even for water. "We weren't trying to hunt the horses they were after. Even if we had been, Attaroa should have known we would have offered something to compensate. Although with that whole herd driven off the cliff, there should have been plenty. I just hope Ayla isn't with them. S'Armuna, I need to go and look for her!"

"You love her, don't you?" S'Armuna asked.

"Yes, I love her," he said. He saw her expression change again. There was an element of gloating bitterness, but something softer, too. "We were on our way back to my home to be mated, but I also need to tell my mother about the death of my younger brother, Thonolan. We started out together, but he… died. She will be very unhappy. It's hard to lose a child."

S'Armuna nodded but made no comment.

"That funeral earlier, what happened to those youngsters?"

"They weren't much younger than you are," S'Armuna said, "old enough to make some wrong decisions for themselves."

Jondalar thought she looked distinctly uncomfortable. "How did they die?" he asked.

"They ate something that was bad for them."

Jondalar didn't believe she was quite telling the truth, but before he could say more, she handed him his hide coverings and led him back out to the two women who had been guarding the entrance. They marched on either side of him, but this time he was not taken back to the earthlodge. Instead he was led to the fenced enclosure, and the gate was opened just enough to push him inside.

27

Ayla sipped tea at her afternoon campfire and stared, unseeing, across the grassy landscape. When she had stopped to let Wolf rest, she noticed a large rock formation outlined against the blue sky to the northwest, but as the conspicuous limestone hill faded into mists and clouds in the distance, it receded from memory as her thoughts focused inward, worrying about Jondalar.

Between her tracking skills and Wolf's keen nose, they had managed to follow the trail that she felt sure was left by the people who had taken Jondalar. After making a gradual descent off the highland, traveling north, they had turned west until they reached the river she and Jondalar had crossed earlier, but they did not cross over. They turned north again, along the river, leaving a trail that was easier to follow.

Ayla camped the first night beside the flowing stream and continued tracking the next day. She wasn't sure how many people she was following, but she occasionally saw several sets of footprints on the muddy banks of the river, a couple of which she was beginning to recognize. None of them, however, were Jondalar's large prints, and she began to wonder if he was still with them.

Then she recalled that occasionally something large was put down, flattening the grass or leaving an impression in the dust or damp ground beneath it, and she remembered seeing that sign, along with the tracks and other signs, from the beginning. It wouldn't have been horsemeat, she reasoned, because the horses had been driven over the edge and this load had been carried down from the top. She decided it had to be the man who was being carried on some kind of litter, which caused her both worry and relief.

If they'd had to carry him, it must mean he couldn't walk himself, so the blood she had found did indicate a serious injury, but they certainly would not bother to carry him if he was dead. She drew the conclusion that he was still alive but seriously hurt, and she hoped they were taking him someplace where his injuries could be treated. But why would anyone hurt him in the first place?

Whoever she was following had been moving fast, but the trail was getting colder and she knew she was falling behind. The telltale signs showing the way they had gone were not always easy to find, which slowed her down, and even Wolf had some trouble keeping up. Without the animal, she wasn't sure if she could have tracked them this far, especially over areas of rocky ground, where the subtle marks of their passing were all but nonexistent. But more than that, she didn't want to let Wolf out of her sight and risk losing him, too. Nonetheless, she felt an anxious need to hurry, and she was grateful that he seemed better each day.

She had awakened that morning with a strong sense of foreboding, and she was glad to see that Wolf seemed eager to start out, but by afternoon she could tell he was tiring. She decided to stop and make a cup of tea to let him rest and give the horses time to graze.

Not long after starting out again she came to a fork in the river. She had easily crossed a couple of small streams flowing down from the highlands, but she wasn't sure if she should cross the river. She hadn't seen tracks for some time, and she didn't know whether to take the east fork or make the crossing and follow the west one. She kept to the east for a while, weaving back and forth, trying to find the trail, and just before nightfall she saw an unusual sight that clearly showed her the way to go.

Even in the failing light, she knew the posts sticking out of the water had been put there for a purpose. They had been pounded into the riverbed near several logs that were lodged into the bank. From the time she spent with the Sharamudoi, she recognized the construction as a rather simple docking place for some kind of watercraft. Ayla started to make her camp beside it, then changed her mind. She didn't know anything about the people she was following, except that they had hurt Jondalar and then taken him with them. She did not want such people to come upon her unawares, while she was sleeping and vulnerable. She chose a place around a bend in the river instead.

In the morning she carefully examined the wolf before entering the river. Though not especially wide, the water was cold and deep, and he would have to swim it. His bruises were still tender to the touch, but he was very much improved, and he was eager to go. He seemed to want to find Jondalar as much as she did.

Not for the first time, she decided to remove her leggings before getting on Whinney's back, so they would not get wet. She didn't want to take the time to worry about drying clothes. Much to her surprise, Wolf did not hesitate to enter the water. Instead of pacing back and forth on the bank, he jumped in and paddled after her, as though he no more wanted to let her out of his sight than she wanted to let him out of hers.

When they reached the other side, Ayla moved out of the way to avoid the spray from the animals shaking off excess moisture while she donned her legwear. She checked the wolf again, just to satisfy herself, though he showed no discomfort when he shook himself vigorously and then began searching for the trail. Somewhat downstream of their landing, Wolf discovered the watercraft that had been used by the ones she was tracking to make the crossing, hidden in some brush and trees that grew near the water. It took her a while, however, to understand it for what it was.

She had assumed the people would use a boat, something similar to the Sharamudoi boats – beautifully crafted dugouts with gracefully pointed prows and sterns, or perhaps like the more pedestrian but practical bowl boat that she and Jondalar used. But the contrivance Wolf found was a platform of logs, and she was unfamiliar with a raft. Once she understood its purpose, she thought it was rather clever, if somewhat ungainly. Wolf sniffed around the crude craft curiously. When he came to a certain place, he stopped and made a low growl deep in his throat.