The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [411]
“She’s so cold. Why is she so cold?” Jondalar said. He stretched her out on the bed, lay down next to her, then half covered her naked body with his own, and pulled the furs over both of them. The wolf jumped up on the bed with them, crowding in close to her other side. Jondalar’s heat filled the space quickly and the wolf’s helped to hold it in. The man held her for a long time, looking at her, kissing her pale, still face, talking to her, pleading with her, begging the Mother for her, until finally his voice, his tears, and heat of his body and the wolf’s began to penetrate her coldest depths.
Ayla wept silently. “You did it! You did it!” the people chanted, accusing her. Then only Jondalar stood there. She heard a wolf howl nearby.
“I’m sorry, Jondalar,” she cried. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
He held out his arms to her. “Ayla,” he gasped. “Give me a son. I love you.”
She started toward the figure of Jondalar standing beside Wolf, and walked between them; then she felt something pulling. Suddenly she was moving, faster, much faster than before, though she felt rooted in place. The mysterious alien clouds appeared and were gone in an instant, yet seemed to take forever. The deep black void swooped by, engulfing her in an unearthly black emptiness that went on endlessly. She fell through the mist, and for a moment saw herself and Jondalar in a bed surrounded by lamps. Then she was inside a frigid, clammy shell. She struggled to move, but she was so stiff, so cold. Finally, her eyelids flickered. She opened her eyes and looked into the tearstained face of the man she loved, and a moment later felt the warm, licking tongue of the wolf.
“Ayla! Ayla! You’re back! Zelandoni! She’s awake! O Doni, Great Mother, thank you. Thank you for giving her back to me,” Jondalar said with a heaving sob. He was holding her in his arms, crying his relief and his love, afraid to hold her too tight for fear he would hurt her, but not ever wanting to let her go. And she didn’t want him to.
Finally he relaxed his embrace to let the Donier look at her. “Get down now, Wolf,” Jondalar said, pushing the animal toward the edge. “You helped her; now let Zelandoni see her.” The wolf jumped off the bed, but sat on the floor looking at them.
The First Among Those Who Served bent over Ayla, and saw open gray-blue eyes and a wan smile. She shook her head in amazement. “I didn’t believe it was possible. I was sure she was gone, lost forever in some dark irretrievable place, where even I could not go to find her to lead her to the Mother. I was afraid the chanting was useless, that nothing could be done to save her. I doubted that anything would ever bring her back, not my most ardent hopes, nor the transcendent wish of every Zelandonii, not even your love, Jondalar. All the zelandonia combined could not have done what you did. I’m almost willing to believe you could have raised her from the Doni’s deepest underworld. I’ve always said the Great Earth Mother would never refuse you anything you asked Her for. I think this proves it.”
The news spread through the Campsite like a wildfire. Jondalar had brought her back. Jondalar had done what the zelandonia could not do. There wasn’t a woman at the Summer Meeting who didn’t wish in her heart that she was loved as much, or a man who didn’t wish he knew a woman whom he could love so strongly. Stories were already beginning, stories that would be told around hearth fires and campfires for years, about Jondalar’s love, so great it brought his Ayla back from the dead.
Jondalar thought about Zelandoni’s comment. He had heard that before though he wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, but it left him feeling uncomfortable to be told that he was so favored by the Mother that no woman could refuse him, not even Doni Herself; so favored that if he ever asked