wisp of smoke rising out of a wooded copse. They hurried ahead and soon came upon a small band of people clustered around a fire. The brothers strode into their midst raising both hands in front of them, palms up, in the understood greeting of openness and friendship.
“I am Thonolan of the Zelandonii. This is my brother, Jondalar. We are on our Journey. Does anyone here speak our tongue?”
A middle-aged man stepped forward, holding his hands out in the same manner. “I am Laduni of the Losadunai. In the name of Duna, the Great Earth Mother, you are welcome.” He gripped both of Thonolan’s hands with his and then greeted Jondalar in the same manner. “Come, sit by the fire. We will eat soon. Will you join us?”
“You are most generous,” Jondalar replied formally.
“I traveled west on my Journey, stayed with a Cave of Zelandonii. It’s been some years, but Zelandonii are always welcome.” He led them to a large log near the fire. A lean-to had been constructed over it as protection from wind and weather. “Here, rest, take your pack off. You must have just come off the glacier.”
“A few days ago,” Thonolan said, shrugging off his backframe.
“You are late for crossing. The foehn will come any time now.”
“The foehn?” Thonolan asked.
“The spring wind. Warm and dry, out of the southwest. It blows so hard trees are uprooted, limbs torn off. But it melts the snow very quickly. Within days, all this can be gone and buds starting,” Laduni explained, moving his arm in a broad sweep to indicate the snow. “If it catches you on the glacier, it can be fatal. The ice melts so quickly, crevasses open up. Snow bridges and cornices give way beneath your feet. Streams, even rivers, start flowing across the ice.”
“And it always brings the Malaise,” a young woman added, picking up the thread of Laduni’s story.
“Malaise?” Thonolan directed his question to her.
“Evil spirits that fly on the wind. They make everyone irritable. People who never fight suddenly start arguing. Happy people are crying all the time. The spirits can make you sick, or if you are already sick, they can make you want to die. It helps if you know what to expect, but everyone is in a bad mood then.”
“Where did you learn to speak Zelandonii so well?” Thonolan asked, smiling at the attractive young woman appreciatively.
The young woman returned Thonolan’s look as frankly, but rather than answering, looked over to Laduni.
“Thonolan of the Zelandonii, this is Filonia of the Losadunai, and the daughter of my hearth,” Laduni said, quick to understand her unspoken request for a formal introduction. It let Thonolan know she thought well of herself and didn’t converse with strangers without proper introductions, not even handsome exciting strangers on a Journey.
Thonolan held out his hands in the formal greeting gesture, his eyes appraising and showing approval. She hesitated a moment, as though considering, then put her hands in his. He pulled her closer. “Filonia of the Losadunai, Thonolan of the Zelandonii is honored the Great Earth Mother has favored him with the gift of your presence,” he said with a knowing grin.
Filonia flushed slightly at the bold innuendo she knew he intended with his allusion to the Gift of the Mother, though his words were as formal as his gesture seemed to be. She felt a tingle of excitement from his touch, and the sparkle of invitation was in her eyes.
“Now tell me,” Thonolan continued, “where did you learn Zelandonii?”
“My cousin and I went across the glacier on our Journey and lived for a while with a Zelandonii Cave. Laduni had already taught us some—he talks with us often in your tongue so he won’t forget it. He crosses every few years to trade. He wanted me to learn more.”
Thonolan still held her hands and smiled at her. “Women don’t often make long and dangerous Journeys. What if Doni had blessed you?”
“It wasn’t really that long,” she