He made the blowing gesture a third time. Bugz furrowed her brow, eyes still closed. In her mind, Waawaate’s breath caught the edge of the ventilator tube and made a faint noise. She realized he wasn’t trying to blow. He was trying to whistle. He just couldn’t find the tone with his mouth and airway blocked.

The tears returned and pulled the sides of Bugz’s mouth toward the ground. It made it harder for her to form her lips into the proper shape. Bugz struggled to move her jaw to the right position. Somehow, she smiled. Her brother had come through for her again, just like he always had.

Still standing alone in the clearing with her eyes squeezed shut, Bugz finally pursed her lips and let out a very soft whistle. She blew harder and harder until the sound of the whistle pierced the stillness of the forest. She blew through the whistle until all of the air escaped her lungs. She closed her eyes.

She heard someone whistling back.

CHAPTER 62

Feng sprinted through the forest toward the clearing. Through the distant cedars and cottonwoods, he saw Bugz. She stood holding a rope in her hands. But in his panic and from this distance, his mind couldn’t make sense of the scene. He imagined he saw Bugz hanging. Tears flooded his eyes. I’m not going to make it, he told himself. I won’t be able to save her. He sprinted harder. His lungs burned, but he pushed through it. He heard her make a very gentle sound in the distance, a soft whistle. He shuddered as the whistle grew louder and louder. He picked up the pace once more as he realized the meaning behind the sound.

Bugz was calling for help.

As Feng ran at full sprint, he ripped the eagle whistle from under his shirt and blew it as hard as he could. He took a deep breath, still running, and blew on the whistle again and again. The shrill noise pierced the night sky, peaking high above the clouds. As he blew on it harder, the pitch rose and flew even higher into the heavens.

High above the clearing, the northern lights roared to life. The clouds parted and the aurora borealis stretched its arms across the sky. Iridescent storm clouds rolled in from another dimension and enveloped the forest. Their green glow cast everything in an eerie, shimmering light. As the northern lights grew, they lowered themselves to the earth like a Day-Glo fog. As they descended from their heavenly perch, they transformed from green to pink. The spots that appeared to burn brightest turned white and smoldered with pink and purple. The Ancestors danced.