Walker of Time by Helen Hughes Vick

Tag’s brightly colored underwear.
    Flute Maiden stood up. Turning Tag around, she inspected her work. “It’s a bit big for him, but it will do.” With a mischievous smile, she folded up his blue jeans. “He has lizard legs.”
    Laughter thundered in Walker’s chest and echoed off the close walls. Flute Maiden giggled, holding out the pair of sandals to Tag.
    â€œAll right, what did she say?” Tag snorted, with his hands on his waist.
    Trying to sound serious, Walker answered, “She said to put the sandals on.”
    â€œHey! These are made out of yucca cactus,” Tag said, eagerly taking the sandals. “Archaeologists found pieces of them in the ruins. They’re on display in the Visitor Center—or they will be back in the future. But no one ever found a complete sandal. In fact, they just guessed that the pieces they found were sandals.” Tag put his big foot down on the mat of tightly plaited yucca leaves. “They could be just a bit bigger, but not bad.” He tied the braided strap of yucca fibers over his foot and around his ankle. “Not quite Nikes, but a lot lighter and cooler.” Tag held up his foot to show Walker. A grin spread across his face. “My Dad would just about die to have a pair of these. Thank you,” he said to Flute Maiden, who was hiding his blue jeans with the rest of his clothes.
    Taking his backpack off, Walker opened it. Laying the bag of red cornmeal and the paho on the ground, he pulled out his watch and clothes. He fingered his metal flashlight for a moment, thinking. If for any reason they needed toescape at night, the rugged canyon would be treacherous without light. Giving it a squeeze, Walker set the flashlight by the cornmeal. He rolled his watch up in his clothes and handed them to Flute Maiden. “We had better hide these, too.” While she hid them, Walker replaced the cornmeal, paho, and the flashlight in his pack. Standing up, he slipped it on his back.
    â€œWe have to go now, before the men come back to the village. We must get to my father, Great Owl, before anyone sees you,” Flute Maiden said, starting to move out of the door.
    Walker followed. “Great Owl?” he whispered, the haunting feeling creeping slowly back into his mind.
    â€œHe is a Seer, who sees and understands all things. He’s the only one who can protect you now,” stated Flute Maiden. “Stay close.”
    â€œAre we going up to the cliff dwellings now?” Tag asked, trying to adjust his eyes to the bright sun again.
    Walker started after Flute Maiden up a very steep, narrow path. “She is taking us to Great Owl.”
    Following close behind Walker, Tag asked, “Who’s he?”
    â€œFlute Maiden’s father. He’ll protect us.”
    â€œProtect us from what?”
    The air was filled with ear-shattering shrieks and yelps as five men with long spears appeared ahead of them on the path. Four more armed men sprang from among the rocks behind them. With sharp spearheads thrust forward, the men quickly surrounded the three climbers.

8
    Stop!” ordered the leader of the group. He looked about eighteen or nineteen years old but was only Walker’s height. His dark brown skin pulled tight across his powerful chest and shoulders. His short, leather loincloth showed very muscular legs and thighs. His long, black hair was pulled away from his foxlike face. Straight bangs hung over his small, slanted eyes.
    He stalked toward Flute Maiden. With a hard shove, he pushed her against the rocks at the inside of the path. Before Walker could move more than a step toward her, the young man’s spearhead was thrust up against his chest, just below the eagle pendant. He felt the sharp point all but cutting into his skin. The young man’s deep-set eyes glared at the eagle pendant.
    â€œWhy are you sneaking into our canyon on the skirts of a girl?” the young man snarled, pushing his