Sarah stopped and pointed. "There's River Dog."

Following the line of her finger, Max spotted the shaman seated cross-legged on a blanket facing the rising sun. The shaman wore traditional dress, complete with symbols painted on his chest, arms, and face.

Unease rattled through Max's mind. "Is something wrong with him?" he asked the girl.

Sarah wrinkled her face as she watched the shaman. "I don't know. He hasn't told me anything was wrong."

"Why did he send for me?" Max asked.

The speckled hound whined for the girl's attention.

"I don't know." Sarah knelt and took the hound's muzzle in her hands. The animal ceased whining and lapped at her face. "Our stories, the legends of the People, often say that two people who are incomplete, each with his or her own problems, often find ways to help each other." She stood. "I can see that you have problems of your own. Maybe that was what River Dog was thinking when he sent for you. I hope it's true."

Me too, Max said. One of the avenues he'd intended to explore to help him find his son had been the Mesaliko shaman. He just hadn't known how River Dog was going to do that, and he hadn't been ready to tell the shaman what was going on. River Dog had helped them discover the healing stones, and Nacedo after a fashion, but he hadn't been entirely supportive either. River Dog's comments to Liz had shown that. Still, the shaman had helped when Michael had gotten sick.

Max turned back to the girl, intending to thank her. Instead he saw Sarah halfway down the hillside with the speckled hound at her side.

Resolutely, Max turned back to the shaman and crossed the ridgeline. His shoes crunched through the baked surface of the hillside.

Only a few feet from the shaman quick movement darted through rocks and small, barrel-shaped pear cacti. Max tried to track the movement, catching a glimpse of a silvery blur that disappeared into the cracked earth.