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

us.”
    â€œWonderful! What happens if this Great Owl person decides we are witches?” Tag sputtered, trying to keep up with Walker.
    Walker took a deep breath and let it out. He had been studying that, along with other questions. Why did the name of Great Owl summon the mysterious, haunting feeling? Why did it have a strangely familiar sound to it? Walker shook his head in confusion. “Flute Maiden said Great Owl is a Seer. True Seers can peer into one’s heart, into one’s very being. If Flute Maiden is correct, then her father will see us for what we are.”
    Tag slipped on a loose rock and caught himself. Shaking his head, he asked, “Do you think he will see my empty stomach?”
    Twenty feet ahead Walker saw an enormous, fifty-foot cliff rising straight up. White Badger strode to the limestone wall, then disappeared into the cliff’s face. Directly behind him, Flute Maiden also vanished into the cliff, as did each man after her.
    Walker moved quickly up the path, straining to see. Gray Wolf stood at the head of the line. He turned to stare at Walker. Pulling his lips back into a snarl, he turned and disappeared into the base of the cliff.
    â€œNeat trick. Too bad he can’t just disappear for good,” Tag stated.
    Walker stepped up behind the last man in line. He could see the spot where the people seemed to be melting into the cliff. A
passageway
, thought Walker, watching the next man slip behind a huge, flat slab of limestone leaning against the bottom of the cliff. The slab was about twenty feet long. Rising about twelve feet into the air, its top rested against the cliff’s face. Walker’s mind took in every detail of the slab’s location, realizing that the passageway could also serve as an escape route.
    Walker felt Tag’s breath on his neck. The bahana looked over his shoulder and watched the next two men slip into the passageway. Walker turned his head to look at Tag. He could tell from the expression on Tag’s face that he was thinking the same thing.
    â€œCome,” said the man with the deep scar running down his cheek. They were the last ones on the path. From the tone of his voice and the caution in his large, black eyes, Walker knew that Scar Cheek was still uncertain if they were witches or not. Yet he had had the courage to walk just ahead of them, Walker realized. His opposition to Gray Wolf had taken great inner strength. Such a man would be a good friend to have, Walker noted.
    Walker nodded at Scar Cheek. The man turned sideways and stepped into the narrow opening between the rock slab and the base of the cliff. Walker followed, with Tag right behind him.
    â€œI guess they don’t have to worry about any fat enemies getting up this way,” Tag mumbled. “If this gets any narrower, I won’t have any skin left on my back or my nose. There’s got to be an easier way up to the ruins—I mean to their village.”
    â€œI am sure there is. But this is probably the fastest way up to Great Owl,” Walker whispered.
And to our deaths?
    About five feet into the passageway, Scar Cheek stopped, pointing upward. Walker saw a path of chiseled notches leading up the side of the cliff and ending just below the top of the slab. At that point, a deep crevice in the limestone began and continued up to the top of the cliff. Using the grooved path of toeholds, Scar Cheek scaled the rock to the crevice. Looking down at Walker, he swung his thin body into the crevice and disappeared.
    Walker slipped the toe of his moccasin in the first notch and lifted himself up. He heard Tag mumble, “Mountain goats. You have to be a mountain goat to live here!”
    Walker could tell by the depth of the notches that much time and effort had been spent chiseling them out. Climbing up to the crevice wasn’t difficult using the deeply grooved notches.
    When Walker reached the last notch, his head was about four inches below the top of