Time Walkers 2 Book Bundle: The Legend of the Bloodstone, Return of the Pale Feather (Time Walkers 1-2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

asked.  He nodded.
    “Of course.  It’s a raven, a great brave bird. The raven keeps safe those he loves.”
    “Well,” she sniffed, “how do I know he loves me? He just met me!”
    Marcus chuckled.
    “He’s always known ye, lamb. He’s loved ye forever.”
    It was the second time Maggie woke in a strange place, but this time the disjointed feeling lasted for only seconds as the echo of her dream dissipated.  She could not explain how or why she was in another time, however she was painfully aware of the reality of her predicament as her hands twisted against the rawhide ties. Her damaged shoulder throbbed in time with her rapid heartbeat as she glanced furtively around the unfamiliar place.
    Above her a rounded roof over a circular walled structure protected her slumber, and Maggie vaguely recalled something about Indians who lived in wigwams. Lined with thatch and shingles of rough-hewn tree bark, it confined the warmth from the fire into the space, giving it a cozy ambience. A soft pile of fur cushioned her spot on the ground, and she could feel the lick of the flames warm her skin as they funneled upward in a wisp to escape through a soot-stained smoke hole.  Across the fire, she could see a girl in a rawhide dress bent over a large basket, rummaging through the contents.
    When Maggie tried to push herself up and failed, the girl noticed. She left the basket, shaking her head at Maggie as she muttered to herself in that other language. The agitated gesture tossed her two dark braids around her head as she kneeled down, and Maggie bit back a scream when the girl produced a knife from her waistband. Was the girl going to stab her? She had done nothing wrong!
    Maggie scrambled backward as the woman crawled toward her.
    “No! Please, I didn’t do anything!”
    The Indian girl paused and tilted her head, then her lips widened in a smile.
    “Shhhh! Be still!” the woman laughed, her English stilted but easily understood. Maggie thought it was decidedly not funny, but she did as the woman demanded and prayed it was the right thing to do. 
    With a quick practiced flick of the knife, the woman sliced the rawhide binding around Maggie’s wrist. She then sat back on her heels and chuckled, continuing to shake her head in amusement.
    “I’m glad you think that’s funny,” Maggie replied.  She rubbed her sore wrists, glad to see the skin was not broken, just a bit raw. Her wristwatch remained intact, shimmering in the firelight.  The woman reached for her hand and Maggie let her examine it, figuring she would be dead already if the Indian girl wanted to kill her. 
    “You wear a strange bracelet,” the girl said softly. “And you carry the Bloodstone.” Maggie nodded.
    “I—I didn’t steal it. I already told him that.”
    “I know. It marked you. It belongs to you now,” the girl agreed. She smiled again and closed her small brown hands around Maggie’s fist. “I am Teyas, sister to Winkeohkwet. I cleaned the wound. The bear marked you…make a deep cut. You understand?”
    The girl spoke slow and careful, her English edged with uncertainty but still quite understandable. Grateful to her for her kindness, Maggie smiled back.
    “Yes, I understand. Thank you, my shoulder does feel better.”
    Both women relaxed in a mutual appreciation and curiosity. Maggie allowed the girl to remove what was left of her parka, and watched as Teyas examined it in fascination.  The girl rubbed the fabric between her fingers and squealed when it made a scratching sound, then she held it to her pert nose to catch a scent. Seeming satisfied, she placed it aside and reached for the basket.  Made from woven reed, the large flat basket held an assortment of garments similar to the ones Teyas wore.  Maggie did not want to undress in front of the girl, but she was fearful of damaging the tenuous bond between them so she did what the girl asked.  Her cheeks flushed as her exposed skin remained bared longer than necessary,