It happened without warning. With a slither and a tumble—a sensation like drifting off to sleep and catching myself falling—I found myself back at the sinkhole, sprawled before Bern’s doorstep.
It was my most seamless transition yet into Root. Maybe it was one of those things, like childbirth, that got easier with each repetition. As the barriers between Earth and Root wore down, the junction between existences came to resemble a revolving door.
I tossed back my head and sighed as the pain drained away like water from a bathtub. Coming to Root was better than morphine. Pain existed here, but what happened on Earth tended to stay on Earth and vice-versa.
Bern stood atop his ladder with his back to me. He leaned back against the uppermost rungs, cane hooked on the crook of his elbow. His head poked just above the rim of the sinkhole as he scanned the horizon with a pair of binoculars.
He wore the outrageously shaggy outfit. It made him look like a moldy Sasquatch, his body festooned with branches and leaves and dangly bits like Spanish moss.
He hadn’t yet noticed that I had returned, so I whistled to get his attention. Startled, he nearly lost his footing and fell off the ladder. He caught his balance and beamed down at me.
“James! Thought I wouldn’t be seeing the likes of you for days, if ever.” His expression sobered predictably. It was becoming something of a ritual. “I take your presence to mean the news is not good?”
“Nah. They still got me locked up,” I said. “And I’m in pretty bad shape. They really knocked the crap out of me.”
I went over to the trickle pouring over the rim of the overhang and let the water wash over me. The water was mild from flowing over sun-warmed bedrock. I scrubbed myself with handfuls of grit, so loosely consolidated under the falls that it was like stepping in quicksand.
“I was just heading out to survey some pits. Would you care to join me?”
“Um … sure. Just let me pull on some clothes.” I almost hadn’t noticed I was naked again. This was getting so annoying.
“Excellent! With you along, we could do the southeastern quadrant. It’s an area I’ve been avoiding.”
I strolled back towards the cottage, shaking the water off my limbs.
“Oh. And your jacket and trousers are inside, folded on your hammock. Though, since we’re going out into the open, I might recommend you weave yourself something more concealing.”
“Oh? You want me to dress up like you?” I smirked up at him. “You want me to look like a bush?”
“Not necessarily. It wouldn’t hurt for you to have a Ghillie suit. But if fashion concerns you, some colors and textures that matched the landscape might be advisable, in case those bug riders are out and about.”
There was a bin against the cabin, filled with roots that Bern had harvested and attempted to confine. I gathered some of the escapees and threw together a pair of sand-colored sweat pants and a crude sweatshirt made of a something that came out looking like softened burlap.
I saw my sword propped against the side of the cottage, grabbed it and went up the ladder.
“Sorry, if I made you wait. How long was I gone?”
“Several hours. But no worries. I wasn’t expecting you. I dozed away half the day myself. It was quite refreshing. I haven’t been sleeping well of late. I have these … nightmares. The pits to the southeast are rather sparse, but I have to admit, I haven’t been very thorough. It’s an area I’ve neglected because … well, to be frank, I find it rather spooky. I don’t like going there on my own.”
