"The winner will be the only one still alive."

Jondalar's brother's words seemed to echo inside his head, increasing the already mind-numbing terror that had already wormed it's way into his heart. Each time the thought whispered his through his tortured mind he felt the claws of fear digging themselves deeper into his soul.

He stood at the front edge of the circle of people that now surrounded Ayla and Mikolan, the twins held tightly in his arms. They shouldn't be here for this, even at their age they should never have to witness such a thing, but he could not let go of them. He clung to them almost as if they were a lifeline to his beloved Ayla; as long as he held on to them he was clinging to their mother as well.

He watched as Mikolan circled her. The man was moving with an agility Jondalar would never have thought him capable of. His heart went out to the woman he loved as he watched the true ramifications of her position sink in. He could read her thoughts almost as well as she could his by now and he could see the stark terror in her eyes. Then Mikolan moved in for the kill.

Ayla stood staring warily at the man across from her, sweat beading on her forehead as she watched him circle her. What had she been thinking? She couldn't fight him! She had no idea how! Her mind raced as she tried to imagine how she could possibly defeat him. Thought soon became impossible as he lunged at her and the natural instinct to protect herself took over.

The crowd gasped as Mikolan rushed at Ayla, a dagger in his hand. Ayla stood frozen until almost the last second and she moved swiftly to the side and out of his reach. Mikolan stumbled when he found his target had suddenly disappeared and almost fell, but he recovered his balance quickly. His anger masked the pain it caused him to move so swiftly. His body still had not fully healed from the attack he had suffered through. His fur wrap hid the birch bark cast that encased his shoulder and upper arm all the way down to the elbow. His ribs were still tightly bound and pained him when he moved. Anger had completely clouded his judgment when he had agreed to Ayla's terms. It was too late now, all he could hope for was to hide his weakness from her.

Ayla stood quietly watching him again, with a stare that almost completely unnerved him. She studied him intently and he could almost read her thoughts as she assessed his movements. He could not let her see his weakness now, or it would be his downfall. Despite his hatred of the woman, he would be a fool to disregard what he knew of her skills as a hunter and tracker. Even now she moved with the fluid grace of a cat and he could see the intelligence in her eyes as she studied him. Her long lean body could not hide her strength either. No, he could not depend on his physical superiority to defeat her. It would be his cunning and her naivety that brought her down.

Despite his best efforts however, the Medicine Woman in Ayla and her Clan upbringing allowed her to easily see the pain that would have been hidden from anyone else. She had forgotten for a moment about the attack he had suffered so recently. Now she was thinking of ways to use it to her advantage. Unfortunately, she grossly underestimated his rage.

He lunged at her again and she moved to get out of his way, only to have him predict the direction she would go. Instantly he stuck his leg out and she found herself face down on the ground. The momentary confusion as to how she managed to get there almost cost her her life. It was only Jondalar's pain filled scream that got her moving in time to avoid the dagger aimed at her back.
He plunged the dagger down just as she rolled away and he fell beside her. She was quicker to rise and landed a hard kick to his ribs just as he reached his knees.

Jondalar gripped the twins tightly in absolute terror, breathing a sigh of relief as he saw her roll out of the way just in time. He cheered her on silently as she delivered the blow to his side. He watched as Ayla backed off while Mikolan slowly rose to his feet. He knew it was not in her to deliberately hurt someone and he knew that she was having to battle her conscience as well as her adversary. She was going to have to get over that quickly if she wanted to survive this.

The rest of the Zelandonii watched this all in almost complete silence, only the occasional gasp indicated that they were even capable of sound. None of them had ever witnessed such a thing before and they all silently prayed they would never have to again. It was only the threat of another war that kept them in their places now, fighting against the urge to protect the woman from the maniac that threatened them all.

Ayla waited, her mind still working on the defensive. Mikolan gasped for breath as he felt the pain arc through his chest with each labored breath. The kick had surprised him and he had felt the slowly healing bones re-break at the impact of her foot. The intense pain, however, only served to anger him more and as soon as he rose, he rushed her again. This time too quickly for her to move out of his way.

Ayla felt herself thrown to the ground and her eyes closed as she fought for the air that was suddenly forced out of her lungs. She felt a heavy weight on her chest and opened her eyes to see Mikolan grinning madly above her, his dagger raised in the air. Her hands came up to protect her face and she caught his arm just as he plunged it downward. Despite his gender, his strength was no match for hers. His easy life of ceremonies and magic had left him physically soft.

Holding his wrist with one hand she squeezed until he was forced to release the knife. Grabbing it with her other hand she threw it over her head, in between the feet of the Zelandonii watching breathlessly from above. Suddenly those feet started moving as they purposefully shuffled the knife backwards into the crowd and far out of Mikolan's reach. She almost grinned but was suddenly brought back around by Mikolan's hand at her throat.

Suddenly she was fighting for her life again as madness and rage lent him strength. She pulled futilely at the fingers cutting off her air supply and just as the spots started dancing before her eyes she locked gazes with Mikolan.

The insanity in his eyes seemed to beckon her and her mind became eerily fuzzy. She felt herself sinking and blackness began creeping in from the edges of her vision as she struggled to breath. Memories of the past year started flowing through her mind at random while her eyes remained locked on those of the man above her.

Mikolan at the Summer Meeting last year, spewing his venom about her life with the Clan.

Echozar as he fought for his life, a spear sticking out of his side.

Her beloved Wolf, gone from her life forever.

The burial of the two men that Mikolan's attack had taken from them.

The two Clan babies: tiny, broken, mutilated bodies.

The eyes of the Clan leader as he learned the news of the deaths of those same babies.

The frightened eyes of Marthona's daughter as they carried the dying woman into the cave.

The look of intense heartache on Jondalar's features as he watched the dirt cover his mother's body.

The look he had just given her as she walked way from him that would forever haunt her.

Her babies.

Thonolan

Kaliza

Then Durc.

A rage unlike anything she had ever known rose up from the dark reaches of her soul and she began to writhe beneath him. Almost instantly his hand was forced from her throat and she was free. Gasping, she sucked great gulps of air into her burning lungs as she rolled to her hands and knees. She had just begun to pick herself up from the ground when she saw his feet moving towards her out of the corner of her eye. Instantly the rage returned and as she moved to stand, she brought her fist up from the ground with all the strength she could put behind it.

The blow connected in a backhanded punch that broke his jaw on impact and sent him sprawling. He had never even seen it coming. Ayla for the first time moved on the offensive. She stalked closer to him warily watching his sluggish movements as he fought the same blackness that had almost engulfed her. His face was a rictus of pain as he cradled his jaw gently with his hand trying desperately to clear his head. His eyes focused on her as she advanced on him and he felt fear fill him for the first time. He had never seen her so angry and the deadly glare she was giving him kept him frozen in place.

Suddenly she stopped. Her hand rose to her chest and a strange combination of pain, fear, and longing crossed her features. She gasped and doubled over, her face flushing a bright red. Another gasp was heard from the crowd and Jondalar watched in terror as Ayla stumbled. He had been holding his breath as the battle between them raged on. When she had gone down before it had been all Joharran could do to hold him back. The rest of the Zelandonii had watched with dread-filled hearts as Mikolan slowly choked the life out of her. They had all breathed a grateful sigh at seeing her finally free herself and the subsequent blow that had followed almost had them cheering her name. Now however they stood in confused silence as she seemed to flounder in pain for no apparent reason. They all were shocked at the sudden scream that rent the air.

"Flatheads!" someone in the crowd screamed.

The entire crowd, Mikolan and Ayla included, turned as one to follow the pointing fingers and look. The entire Zelandonii Summer Meeting gaped as one.

Standing on the crest of a hill in the near distance stood the strangest sight any of them had ever seen. A man, a mixed man, sat proudly on the back of a huge black stallion. A foreign, but human, woman sat nest to him on another chestnut horse. Surrounding them were flatheads, humans and more mixed men. As they watched, more horses with riders joined them as well as more people walking on foot. In all nearly a hundred people stood watching them from the hill top.

"Durc" Jondalar whispered.

He was stunned. For moons Ayla had told him that her son was coming. She had told him that he would be bringing many others with him. He had believed her, of course he had, but to see it was something else altogether.

"Durc" Ayla whispered, tears in her eyes.

For the first time in almost eight years Ayla's eyes beheld the son she had left behind. The strength of their connection was so intense it was painful and she fought to breathe. She struggled to keep it from overwhelming her, trying hard to keep her eyes open and focused on her son. The movement she caught out of the corner of her eye almost went unnoticed. Almost.

It had only taken seconds for Mikolan to realize who it was that stood on the ridge. Seeing Ayla's pain and sudden incapacity, he made his move. While the rest of the Zelandonii, and especially Ayla, were focused on the arrival of her son, he moved to the side of the ring of people that still surrounded him. Finding what he needed quickly, he moved stealthily to the center of the ring, right between Ayla and Durc, and took aim.

Ayla was bent over in pain but she watched out of the corner of her eye as Mikolan picked up the spear-thrower and her first erratic thought was; When did he learn how to use one of those? When he loaded it and took aim at her son however, all reasoned thought left her completely. In an instant she knew what he planed to do and a mother's instinctive need to protect her child took over.

She felt the heat of the connection completely overwhelm her as it gathered force in her chest and she let out a primal scream. She had no more managed to turn toward him when she heard Durc's scream join hers. Instantly a bright light surrounded them both, hers white, his golden. The connection shot forward from both directions, arching to meet as it had done so many times before. Ayla's head was thrown back and her spine arched as the beam of light rushed from her chest to meet with Durc's. The Zelandonii scattered in fear and awe, but Mikolan stayed where he was, determined to fulfill the purpose of his ill-fated journey. He didn't notice the beautiful arcs of light coming towards him, one from the front and one from behind.

If he had he would have run screaming in terror. His first taste of touching them had convinced him that to do so again would mean complete madness and death. And he was right.
The purest white and the deepest gold came together for the last time, both of them engulfing Mikolan in their inherent goodness. Meeting and joining, they surrounded him. There was complete silence for the split second it took his screams to rend the air.

Mikolan was so intently focused on Durc and the pain his death would bring to Ayla that he failed to notice when the light touched him. Right up until he felt his soul begin to burn. His breath hitched in his throat as he felt the light spread through him to uncover the darkest reaches of his heart. The evil that had festered inside him until now writhed in agony as it was exposed to the basic pureness of Ayla's love for Durc and his for her. As if a mirror had been held up for him to see with, Mikolan for the first time looked what he had become full in the face. That was when he began to scream.

He had felt it, he had even caught glimpses of it before, but he had always been able to force it back, to deny the knowledge of his own corruption. Now he was forced to look and what he saw sent him plummeting into the farthest reaches of insanity. Soon his screams stopped and all that you could hear was hiccuping, incoherent sobs as his tortured soul quailed beneath the light of truth.

As Ayla and Durc unconsciously released the energy of their connection directly onto Mikolan, his heart sped up to a deadly pace and the blood vessels in his brain ruptured in fright. His body temperature rose higher and higher as white met gold and exploded in a solid wall of frantic energy and light with Mikolan caught in between. His blood boiled, the synapses in his brain overloaded and ignited and his heart exploded on a final thunderous beat.

And just as suddenly as it had begun it stopped. The final tendrils of heat and light escaped their bodies and rushed headlong towards the other to join almost gently together above Mikolan's dead body. Then they were gone.

Ayla gasped and shuddered before she collapsed onto her knees. It was gone. The warmth she had felt in her heart for the entire last turning of the seasons was gone. She tried to stand, fighting the sudden weakness in her body. She raised her eyes to see all of the Zelandonii staring at her in disbelief, awe, and more than a little fear.

What had she done?

Her eyes moved over the ground to where Mikolan lay. She could tell just by looking that he was dead. What had happened? All she remembered was the sudden unbearable heat in her chest and Mikolan aiming the spear thrower at....

Durc!

Her son was here! After all this time.... Slowly she moved her gaze up the ridge to see Durc climbing unsteadily down from his horse. Her eyes instantly filled with tears. She couldn't move. She wanted to run to him, but her feet were frozen in place. She watched as he looked in her direction and started toward her.

In no time he was running and finally she became aware of the fact that firm control of her body had been returned to her. She ran. With tears blurring her eyes so badly she could barely see, she ran. Her heart pounded in her chest, her lungs burned from not daring to breath and still she ran.

Somewhere in the middle, with both groups of people watching with wide eyes, they met.

Durc flung himself into Ayla's arms and something that had been missing for years finally fell into place. Ayla held his head to her breast and wrapped her arms around him as they both sank to their knees. The ache in her heart that she had carried for almost eight years was gone and she was filled with a happiness unlike anything she had ever felt before.

They pulled back and their gazes locked. Ayla looked into her son's eyes for the first time as Durc did the same for the mother he had lost so long ago.

"Mama" he whispered.

And Ayla cried enough tears for both of them.