Read Online Walker of Time by Helen Hughes Vick - Free Book Online Page B

her hip. The women stopped whispering to each other, lowering their eyes to the ground. Walking past them, Walker felt fear in the air.
    The face of a young girl appeared at the entrance of the next rock house. “Come away from the door. They are witches!” exclaimed a harsh voice from within. The girl’s curious face vanished.
    Gray Wolf had wasted no time in spreading the word about witches. Of course, such news would always travel like the wind, thought Walker. They passed three more clusters of rock dwellings, each with women and children around them. Walker realized that he had not seen anymen. Were they all with Great Owl?
Waiting for us!
Walker thought, with fear tightening his stomach. He turned to look at Tag.
    Tag’s eyes were like bowling balls gawking at the ancient ones. Walker frowned and shook his head. “It is rude even for a witch to stare so hard,” he whispered in a firm voice.
    A man with a long, yellow cape that came down to his knees rushed out of a dwelling. With a lopsided limp, he hurried up to Scar Cheek. The man’s words came in quick, excited spurts. “Scar Cheek, the others are at the meeting place.” he exclaimed. His dark eyes darted back at Walker and Tag. “You must hurry. Gray Wolf is trying to . . .”
    Scar Cheek touched the man’s shoulder and mumbled something to him. With a nod, the man limped down the path in the opposite direction and disappeared into a dwelling.
    Turning to Walker, Scar Cheek stated, “We must hurry.” He started up a path wedged between two cliff dwellings.
    â€œWhy do I feel as if I am about to be put on trial?” Tag asked, following close on Walker’s heels.
    The hair on Walker’s scalp tightened as a shiver raced up his back. “Because you are.”

10
    The rocky path wound up to the top of the long limestone overhang under which some of the homes were built. Then it traversed the overhang for two hundred yards. It climbed again at a very steep grade till it reached the rim of the canyon. Here the path ended at a narrow, limestone bridge with sheer drop-offs on each side. The well-worn limestone spanned a good five feet to a broad ridge extending out from the canyon’s rim.
    â€œThe fort! They’re taking us to one of the forts!” exclaimed Tag upon reaching the natural bridge. “The forts were built on top of wide, flat promontories like big islands that jutted out from the rim. There were five in all, each built directly above a different group of ruins—I mean homes,” stated Tag, sounding like a tour guide. Walker stopped to listen. “Grave robbers and pot hunters had pretty well destroyed the areas before any real studies could be done. Dad said no one was sure what the forts had been used for.” Pointing to the steep cliffs surrounding the ridgein front of them, Tag continued. “Since there is only one way into and out of each island, the forts could have been built for protection. Or they could have been used for ceremonial purposes. They are—or they were—in restricted areas, so the tourist couldn’t get to them. But my Dad took me to one once. I’m not sure if this is the same one or not. It all looks so different.”
    â€œShh,” hissed Scar Cheek from the other side of the short bridge where he stood waiting for them. He motioned for them to hurry.
    â€œAll right, all right, we’re coming,” Tag answered with a perturbed sound to his voice.
    Walker realized that Tag still did not understand the gravity of the situation. How could he? All his life he had lived in an advanced, complex society with an intricate legal system that guaranteed liberty and justice to all. Walker’s hands were wet. His stomach twisted in knots.
Here
, he thought, taking a deep breath to calm his thundering heart,
one person can have the power of life or death
.
    Crossing over the limestone bridge, Walker saw an