The clan of the cave bear_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [164]
“Ayla. Ayla come back. Uba know Ayla not dead!” the child asserted with the conviction of one who knew she was right all along. Ayla picked her up and held her so tight, Uba squirmed to get loose and catch her breath.
“You wet!” Uba motioned when she could get her arms free.
“Ayla, take off those wet clothes!” Iza said, and bustled around adding wood to the fire and finding something for the girl to wear, as much to cover the intensity of her emotions as to express maternal concern. “You’ll catch your death of cold.”
Iza glanced at the girl with embarrassment, suddenly realizing what she had said. The girl smiled.
“You’re right, mother. I will catch cold,” she gestured, and removed her wrap and hood. She sat down and began struggling to loosen the wet, swollen bindings of her footwear.
“I’m starved. Is there anything to eat? I haven’t eaten all day,” she said after she had put on one of Iza’s old wraps. It was a little small and too short, but it was dry. “I would have been back earlier, but I got caught in an avalanche coming down the mountain. I was lucky I didn’t get buried under too much snow, but it took a long time to dig my way out.”
Iza’s amazement lasted only a moment. Ayla could have said she walked through fire to return and Iza would have believed it. Her return itself was proof enough of her invincibility. What could one little avalanche do to her? The woman reached for Ayla’s fur to hang it up to dry, but pulled her hand back suddenly, eyeing the unfamiliar deer hide suspiciously.
“Where did you get this wrap, Ayla?” she asked.
“I made it.”
“Is it … is it of this world?” the woman inquired apprehensively. Ayla smiled again.
“Very much of this world. Did you forget? I know how to hunt.”
“Don’t say that, Ayla!” Iza said nervously. She turned her back so the clan she knew was watching wouldn’t see, and gestured inconspicuously. “You don’t have a sling, do you?”
“No, I left it behind. But that doesn’t change anything. Everyone knows it, Iza. I had to do something after Creb burned everything. The only way to get a wrap is to hunt. Fur doesn’t grow on willows, or fir, either.”
Creb had been watching silently, hardly daring to believe she was really back. There were stories of people returning after a death curse, but he still didn’t believe it was possible. There’s something different about her; she’s changed. She’s more confident, more grown up. No wonder, after what she’s been through. She remembers, too. She knows I burned her things. I wonder what else she remembers? What is it like in the world of the spirits?
“Spirits!” he motioned, suddenly remembering. The bones are still set! I must go break the curse.
Creb hurried away to break the pattern of cave bear bones still set in the form of a death curse. He snatched the torch burning outside the crack in the wall and went in, and gaped in surprise when he came to the small room beyond the short passage. The skull of the cave bear had moved, the long bone no longer protruded through the eye socket, the pattern was already broken.
Many small rodents shared the cave of the clan, drawn by the stored food and warmth. One of them had likely brushed past or jumped on the skull, tipping it over. Creb shuddered slightly, made a sign of protection, then moved the bones back to the pile at the far end. As he walked out, he saw Brun waiting for him.
“Brun,” Mog-ur gestured when he saw the man. “I can’t believe it. You know I haven’t been in here since I laid the curse. No one has. I just went in to break it, but it was already broken.” His expression held a look of wonder and awe.
“What do you think happened?”
“It must have been her totem. It’s past the time; maybe he broke it so she could return,” the magician answered.
“You must be right.” The leader started to make another motion, then hesitated.
“Did you want to speak to me,