"Alasie, Alasie," the soft voice whispered in the night. The Inuit girl rolled over in her polar bear blanket and dismissed the haunting summons. A dream, she thought. She often dreamed in the night.

"Come to me, Alasie," the voice beckoned.

"Aanaa?" Alasie Kulluk questioned, throwing away the covers. She hadn't thought about her grandmother since she was a little girl. The old woman joined the ancestors long ago when Alasie was five years old. Although she remembered her Aanaa fondly, too many years had passed for her to recall much about her.

Slipping into her anorak and mukluks, Alasie ducked out of the Kulluk igloo without disturbing her father. The cold night air struck her, and she shivered. Still, she obeyed the voice and, leaving the village, mounted the high plateau to the north. She stood alone in the dark, waiting for her grandmother to call again.

The minutes began to pass. Alasie decided the voice was a dream after all. She began to turn toward home when a turquoise flare appeared in the sky. It swirled majestically, and a purple streak flashed through it.

"Aura Borealis," Alasie whispered in awe. The moment she spoke, she felt herself encapsulated in the intense colors. All her senses instantly awoke, bringing her immediately alive.

"Alasie," her grandmother's voice called from deep within the northern lights.

"Aanaa?" The girl turned a full circle, searching for the source of the voice.

"I am here, child. I am all around you."

Alasie stood amongst the colors, comforted by them. Her grandmother's presence surrounded her. A warm, musky scent wafted through the air. Although she hadn't seen or thought of her elder in years, it stirred a memory deep inside her. Once again, she was five years old, and her grandmother was alive, sitting beneath her sealskin blanket in the Kulluk igloo.

"Why did you call me Aanaa?" Alasie asked the Aura.

"Remember what I told you about Aura Borealis?" the disembodied voice asked. "When my soul left the earth, it became part of the Aura. I am here, always, dancing with the spirits of our ancestors. You will find me when you gaze into the lights."

"Yes, Aanaa, I remember," Alasie answered, searching the lights for her grandmother's form. "Why do you speak to me now? What is it? What's going to happen?"

Alasie took a fearful step backward. The spirits often used the Aura Borealis to pass messages to the living, usually warnings against an upcoming tragedy. Glancing over her shoulder, the girl contemplated fleeing back to her warm igloo.

"Alasie." The sound of her grandmother's voice called her back to the Aura. The colors shimmered momentarily, then the old woman stepped forward. She stretched out her arms, welcoming her granddaughter.

"What is your message, Aanaa?" Alasie asked, her feet gliding over the snow. When she came face to face with the spirit, she stopped.

"Your father, my son, is in grave danger," the grandmother stated. "He must not go after the whale tomorrow."

Blood drained from Alasie's face. Fear encased her every time Akiak Kulluk took out his kayak. Along with the other village men, he hunted the whale. Grinning widely, he tried to calm his daughter's fears. He claimed the whale couldn't outsmart him, drawing her close in a bear hug. Nothing should worry her or cause alarm.

"You must stop him, Alasie," the grandmother-spirit implored.

"Yes, Aanaa," the girl agreed, her eyes growing wide with fear.

Bowing her head, the filmy figure disappeared into a purple swirl. The colors continued to pulsate and glow in the night sky. Alasie watched them for a moment before turning toward home. She ran along the plateau, a lone figure in the light-blazing night. She glanced back at the igloo door and saw her grandmother watching her.

"Where were you?" Akiak asked when his daughter appeared. He had already put on his anorak and pulled on his sealskin mukluks.

"Where are you going?" Alasie practically shouted when she noticed her father's apparel.

"Where do you think I'm going?" Akiak asked, grinning broadly. "The same place I go every morning."

"Don't go!" Alasie shouted, throwing her young body against his. She clung to him as though she would never do so again. "I don't want you to go. Not today, please."

"Oh, but I must," her father stated, gently setting her aside. "The men are waiting for me."

"Let them go without you," Alasie begged, grabbing his arm with all her strength. "Let's go for a long walk instead. We can look for polar bears or caribou. We haven't had a day all to ourselves in ages."

"Maybe tomorrow, my child," Akiak suggested, hurrying toward the door.

"Please, Father, don't go!" Alasie cried, tears springing to her eyes. "Please. I...I went to see the Aura tonight. Aanaa was there. She warned me. She said you mustn't hunt the whale today."

Akiak hesitated at the igloo's opening. Slowly, he turned to face his daughter. Her anguished look made him hesitate for a moment. He considered staying home, but he also considered walking with Alasie along the plateau, looking for bears or caribou. It seemed a pleasant excursion. Then, Inuk Tuktu appeared in the doorway.

Alasie despised Inuk, although he was her father's best friend. She didn't like how he swaggered and bragged about hunting the whale. He grinned at her with crooked teeth filling his awkward mouth. Inuk wanted to marry her. After his fat wife died giving birth to their eighth child, he turned his lascivious eyes in her direction. Alasie cringed.

Two of his daughters were her own age, the rest younger. Alasie wasn't prepared to become a stepmother nor to fill the dead wife's shoes. Inuk would use her up quickly, forcing her to produce child after child. She much preferred the Minister's son, Jason Mathers.

"Father, please don't go," Alasie tried again. "Aanaa said you are in danger."

"Aanaa?" Inuk asked, his eyebrows arching. "Your Aanaa is years in her grave. What are you talking about?"

Alasie folded her arms over her chest and glared at the intruder. She refused to speak about her overnight adventures.

"My daughter has spoken to her grandmother in the Aura," Akiak informed, ignoring his daughter's scathing look. "She has duly warned me against whale hunting today."

"Superstition." Inuk dismissed her with a handwave. "Do you really believe that hocus-pocus, Alasie? I thought you better educated than that."

"I want to make sure my father is safe," Alasie muttered, turning away from the men's stare.

"I'm safe enough, child," Akiak assured her. He stepped forward to kiss her cheek. "Your father will always return. There isn't a whale alive who could outsmart Akiak Kulluk."

Her father and his friend left with laughter on their lips. Alasie spent the day in fear. Her grandmother's words rang in her ears. She promised to keep Akiak at home, and she failed. Every sound startled her. She closed her eyes and imagined her father's kayak bobbing on the open water. She saw the whale rise from the ocean and slam his humungous body onto the roiling water. Pressing the vision to the back of her mind, she waited.

The day wore on slowly. Alasie became anxious when the time came for Akiak and Inuk's return. The hour slid past, then another. The girl stood in the igloo's door, waiting. The men pulled their kayaks onto the beach and gathered in a tight cluster. Alasie strained her eyes to find her father amongst them. Finally, unable to wait any longer, she ran toward them.

Before she could reach the beach, Jason Mather separated himself from the group. Taking wide strides, he rushed toward her and stopped.

"My father?" Alasie wailed.

"Alasie, I'm sorry," Jason stated remorsefully.

"The whale?"

Jason nodded. Alasie fell into his arms, sobbing.

"I...I warned him," the sorrowful girl finally cried. "Aanaa warned me. She told me something bad was going to happen."

"Aanaa?" Jason asked, perplexed.

"In the Aura Borealis," Alasie explained, burying her head further into his chest. "Aanaa's spirit lives in the Aura. The ancestors dance in the lights. Sometimes, they bring messages."

"I...I see." Jason nodded comfortingly. He hugged her closer.

"My...my father is in the aura now," Alasie stated, brightening. "He lives in the purple, pink, and turquoise lights. He's with Aanaa."

Late that night, Alasie left her lonely igloo and walked along the plateau. Darkness surrounded her as she gazed northward. A neon flare rose toward the sky and swirled. Other lights appeared and waltzed around her. She could almost hear the beautiful music that accompanied the spirits.

"Alasie," a firm voice called to her.

"Yes, father," the girl answered, her face alight beneath the Aura.

His form appeared in the sky, glancing benevolently down at her. Alasie's heart leaped with joy.

"I am sorry I didn't listen to you this morning," he apologized, tears dripping off his chin. "I listened to Inuk instead."

"Inuk Tutku is a fool." Alasie couldn't hold her tongue. She spoke the truth.

"Inuk Tutku is a fool," Akiak repeated.

Father and daughter stood face to face. One a spirit of the dead man, and the other a vital and alive girl. The peaceful neon colors surrounded them, lulling them into their calm.

"Do not marry him, my child," Akiak instructed. "I know I pushed you toward him. I don't want my daughter married to a fool."

"I won't, Father," Alasie answered, smiling broadly. "I'm going to marry Jason Mathers. I love him."

Akiak's expression changed momentarily, and then his smile became benign again. Although he liked Jason, he wanted his daughter to marry an Inuit like herself. Since his death, his spirit had grown in knowledge. He could see Alasie happily married with a bright future ahead of her.

"I will never leave you, my child," the father whispered through the Aura. "If you need me, look for me in the Aura Borealis. Look for Aanaa here, too. She tells me she began watching over us on the day her soul left the earth."

"I will, father. I promise to come here often." Alasie sat in the snow, her face turned upward toward the Northern Lights.

!!!COMING SOON!!!

HAWAII