Bugz lost the ability to speak; she simply nodded at the image of Liumei she saw on-screen. Bugz avoided Feng’s gaze.

“Thanks, Auntie,” he said. “I’ll see you later.” Feng hung up and reached to pull Bugz close again. Leaning into his chest, she felt the eagle whistle rubbing against her arm. She reached into the collar of his hoodie and pulled the whistle out by its lanyard. She giggled through tears. Feng smiled.

“I like it,” Bugz said.

Bugz fumbled with the whistle and brought it to her lips. She blew on it gently. A soft, hollow sound emerged from the thin bone cylinder. She smiled and sniffled before shaking her head. “Not supposed to do that,” she whispered.

“What?”

“You’re not supposed to whistle at night.”

Feng listened. Bugz took his silence as an invitation to continue.

“They say if you whistle at night, the northern lights will come and take you away.”

“Is that bad?”

Bugz looked at Feng as if he were an innocent child. She smiled just the same. “Yeah, it’s bad. The northern lights are our Ancestors. They’re dancing in the happy hunting grounds, in heaven, the Spirit World.” She paused as she thought of the Floraverse.

“Spirit World, right?” Feng echoed her thought, though she wondered if the automatic translator had conveyed her true meaning. She stepped back, looked at Feng, and wondered how something as ugly as Clan:LESS, and everything they stood for, could befoul a place as beautiful as the Spirit World. She couldn’t understand how a person who seemed as good as Feng could fall into their neo-alt-right orbit. She shook her head and stepped further away from him.

“Anyways, it’s not good because we’re supposed to keep the living and the dead separate. If you invite the northern lights here, you’re inviting death. If they take you away, it means they take you away to heaven.”

“I don’t know. Why would you be afraid of your Ancestors or your loved ones? I mean, isn’t that what we’re hoping for—to be reunited?”

Bugz wanted to say yes, but tradition tugged her in the opposite direction. “I don’t know.” She looked to the rocks beneath her feet. “All I know is my brother is here now. And I want him to stay with us. Here. On this side.” She studied the beadwork on the whistle again. “Waawaate. His name means ‘northern lights.’ ”

“Really?”