Picking up my bowl and stoneware, I got off the hard floor and loaded the rest of my salad into a small bag.
Mason was still going on about the boys from his group when I slipped into my part of the tent and looked around for anything that might be handy in our situation. The only things that seemed necessary were a couple more blankets, considering the cold night air. The fine cotton rubbed against my arms as I grabbed them and slipped out of my tent.
A few minutes later, when I'd gotten back to the burrow, Nathen sat in the same spot as I'd left him. I threw the bag of fruit in front of him, too shy about the fact I was bringing an Upperlander food to say anything about it.
He picked at the fruit, hardly taking any. I wasn’t too surprised. I mean, who could eat in his situation?
Willing to do anything to break the silence, I asked him one of the questions that had been on my mind for weeks. “Why’re y’all going to Ackon?”
He pursed his lips and stared at the ground. “My mother died from an illness a couple of months ago, and because my father thought we needed a lusher place to live, we’re climbing the mountains,” he explained.
“One man gets to decide when your entire village moves?” I asked in shock.
"Only when that one man is the chief." A small smile slid across his face. My eyebrows shot up.
"You're the son of the chief?!" I ran a hand through my hair. Looking over at me, he gave a nod. I sat there, my mouth half-open in shock.
"It's not a very big deal." He shrugged to emphasize his point.
"Not a big deal?! If anyone, and I mean anyone, finds out about this . . . I'm dead meat." Images of my tribe's furious faces flashed before my mind.
Minniemons were in no way supposed to disturb the Upperlanders because they could kill our entire tribe in seconds! And there I was, stuck in an impossible situation involving a normal village girl and shrunken Upperlander. But not just any Upperlander, the chief's son! If not the Upperlanders, then my tribe was going to kill me.
"We'll find some way to put things back to normal . . ." Nathen murmured more to himself than to me.
Remembering the blankets, I tossed one over to him and laid down, covering myself up with the other. He did the same, but after about half an hour of tossing and turning, we realized sleep wasn't going to come. We were far too stressed, so for the next few hours, we stayed up talking about the differences between our two worlds and such until sleep finally took us. I clearly remember deciding I liked Nathen just before I fell asleep . . . That small detail was all it took to stir a little bit of magic.
Chapter 6
Back to Normal?
Nathen
MY EYES SLOWLY OPENED as I became aware of the soreness sleeping on the ground brought.
Looking around, I somehow expected to be back in my tent with my father, but the grass, trees, and wildlife begged to differ. It took me a second to realize I'd returned to my normal size and my village was just a short walk away.
Relief washed over me as I started toward home, and I couldn't help but smile. As soon as I made up a believable story to tell my father, everything would go back to normal.
The familiar village shuffled around me, happily going about their business as if nothing bad could possibly happen.
"Why, Mr. Krolav, is that you?" the baker's wife called to me in a thick accent as she came running up. I winced at my surname and looked over at the plump lady.
Before I could answer, she broke out into a series of concerned cries. She said something about how the village chief was worried sick about me, and how the entire town was to keep their eyes peeled. I half-smiled at the dramatic woman, trying my best to stay mannerly as she blabbered on.
When she stopped to take a breath of air, something I thought she might never do, I thanked her for the concern and hurried off toward the large tent sitting in the very center of the village.
I barely had time to open the tent flap when my father's deep voice greeted me, but not with relief or happiness. Just anger.
"Where were you last night?" He yanked open the tent flap to let me in. Not a hint of a smile was on his face.
"I got lost yesterday when taking my morning hike," I fibbed. His tall and somewhat threatening figure stood in front of me as I stared at the ground. He hesitated, then nodded his head and turned his attention to the sheets of paper covered with neat penmanship he held in his hands.
My father got worried when I was lost, but he knew I wasn’t the kind to run away. As long as I made it back in one piece, he didn’t get too angry.
"Who are those from?" I gestured toward the letters. He glanced up at me, then back to the papers.
"Another village's chief. They've heard of our transition from the Angles to Ackon River and, apparently, will be our neighbors. He's suggested we make some arrangements to prevent any unwanted feuds," he explained.
Transition was always the way my father put it, but no matter what you called it, it was a move. A move decided purely out of emotion for the lost wife he could do nothing to save. My mother. I shook my head, fighting off tears, and left the tent.
The Angles was home. It’s where she was buried. The very fact we were leaving was too much.
Before I knew it, an all-too-familiar brunette ran up to me, grabbing my right hand. "Nate!" she flirted in a tone filled with relief. "When the chief put up posters saying everyone should keep an eye out for you, well, I got worried sick!"
It took everything in me not to roll my eyes at her made-up concern. Everyone except my father knew that the only thing this girl had ever seen when she looked at me was a path to a high place. She only stuck around because I was the chief's son, and it had been arranged since before we were born that we would marry. I nearly gagged at the thought.
"I'm okay, Cleo. Just . . . tired," I assured her after telling her the same fib I told my father. I took a couple of steps away from her skinny figure.
To be honest, I really was tired. Exhausted, actually. One sleepless night was all it took to make dark circles under my eyes.
"Oh, good! Why don't we have a little chat after school, then?" She started closer to me. I couldn't help it, my eyes widened and I took a few more steps back.
"I'm really not in the mood, Cleo. I'm just going to go rest for now," I blurted, walking away at a speedy pace.
Though I did want to rest, something told me all I would get were a few hours of tossing and turning. So instead, I hiked to the outskirts of the village, taking in the view the mountain we were camped on had to offer.
The Angles sat in the distance. The large valley stretched as far as the eye could see, and the sun shone on the grass and trees like gold.
Times of joy and laughter flashed through my memory as I stared at our old home. Times when the village didn't pity me, and when the women didn't baby me. I supposed because of the loss of my mother, they thought I needed somebody to take her place as my caretaker.
Images of my mother on her deathbed also flashed through my memory. She'd held my hand, and in a weak voice whispered something about always considering what another might say before shrugging it off as crazy. Then she closed her eyes and breathed her last. I could never understand why she chose those to be her last words, but I respected them nonetheless.