The Forgotten Land

Chapter Three

Nite woke up the next morning with a raging migraine and a scratchy throat. She had slept terribly all night and could feel the exhaustion throughout her entire body. It was a struggle to open her eyes. When she finally did, she found that the cabin was filled with sunlight.

"Great," she muttered angrily to herself. As a general rule, she always tried to wake up before the sun.

A gruff voice came from across the room. "I see that you are finally up."

She turned her head to the side and squinted at Bickum. She did her best to smile. "Good morning." Her voice was raspy. "What time is it?" She reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger, trying to make her migraine subside.

"It is well into morning."

Nite moaned and rolled over, burying her face in the pillow. "Why didn't you wake me up earlier? We have errands to run."

"Now, Stump, why would I do that? You always go to bed so late and wake up so early that I am sure you are exhausted all the time. I figured it would not kill you to sleep in, especially considering the night you had yesterday."

The events of last night came rushing back to Nite. The fear that she had felt crashed over her once again. She bolted upright, ignoring her protesting muscles. "Has anything bad happened yet?"

Bickum, pouring berries into a bowl for her, shook his head. "Do you not think I would tell you if something catastrophic happened?"

"Are there storm clouds?"

"Do you see the sun streaming in through the windows?"

"Has the ground shaken at all?"

"Did you feel anything while you were sleeping?"

Despite herself, Nite let out a soft chuckle. "You're so unhelpful, Bick," she groaned.

"I know." He slowly lowered himself onto her bed, perching on the edge. He handed her a bowl of fresh blueberries. "Eat up. I picked these fresh for you this morning."

She scooped a handful into her mouth. "I'm sorry you had to pick them," she said, her cheeks stuffed with the delicious fruit. Normally it was Nite who did the berry picking during the summer.

Bickum waved a hand as if he were trying to brush away her comment. "An old man like me occasionally needs to get exercise, believe it or not."

"I don't believe it," Nite snorted.

"You are a very peculiar child." He wagged a finger at her. "I do not think I raised you very well."

"So," Nite mused, thinking back to the previous day, "yesterday I was lazy and today I'm peculiar. I wonder what I'll be tomorrow."

"Homeless, if you keep it up." He chuckled at his own joke. Standing up, he said to himself, "I am very funny. Very funny indeed."

Nite finished off her breakfast as she watched him walk through the hut. He seemed to be doing better today. His movements were surer and steadier, and she couldn't hear his joints popping as much.

When she was done, she set aside the bowl and got out of bed. Her muscles were unbearably sore and screamed with every step. She tried to stretch, but the pain was so great that all she could do was grunt. Mild dizziness caused her to see spots.

"You are turning into me," Bickum commented as he watched her try to loosen her muscles. "You are becoming an old man."

"That's a terrifying thought. Now, are you ready to head into town?" She grabbed her cloak off the nightstand, where it had been folded and placed sometime after she had fallen asleep.