Aurora's Song

By Cherime MacFarlane

She's fighting an instant attraction. A hunk with visions of scientific acclaim, he isn't going to stick around.

A paranormal novella of spirits and legends. Algen is finally home after spending most of her teen years, and young adulthood in Washington State. She has never been clear on the reason she got sent to live with her father's relatives. But she has a job she loves and can finally live in the place she loves. The Aurora Borealis fascinates her; Algen has missed the lights and winter terribly. The Grannies want her to be careful. Should she be wary of the new hire at the native corporation? She's sure if he gets too close, her heart will be in grave danger. The cultural anthropologist is pursuing her with the single-mindedness of a big predator. Gunrik is too smart, too much of a hunk, far too tempting and can't stay in her little backwater in rural Alaska.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cherime MacFarlane
• Release date: Aug 5, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393944263

Cherime MacFarlane

Meet Award-Winning, Best-Selling Author Cherime MacFarlane. A prolific multi-genre author, she has a broad range of interests that reflect her been there-done that life. Romance, Historical Fiction, Fantasy, Paranormal, all sorts of characters and plots evolve from a vivid imagination. As a reporter for the Copper Valley Views, Cherime MacFarlane received a letter of commendation from the Copper River Native Association for fair and balanced reporting. She was part of the Amazon Best Selling in Anthologies and Holidays, and Fantasy Anthologies and Short Stories. The Other Side of Dusk was a finalist in the McGrath house award of 2017.

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Copyright © 2015

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Copyright Notice:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, events or locales is completely coincidental.

Author's Note: There are various superstitions regarding the Aurora Borealis among the people groups of the far north. This story is based on those tales.

License Notes:

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Artwork: Cherime MacFarlane

Dedicated to: Hella gratefully. And to Sam Lightwood, who taught me to call the lights at 35 below zero.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Epilogue

Solitary Hunter: here’s a sneak peek.

About the Author

Other books by the author:

Glossary:

Chapter One

The show was unbelievable. It began in the Northeast about midnight. I watched from the window until I couldn't stand being inside one more minute. I tugged on bunny boots and got into my parka, gloves, and hat. At -30 degrees, it wasn't a good idea to take chances on frostbite.

To be honest, I knew I might lose all sense of time and stay out far longer than I should. But this was an aurora of epic proportions. Rivers of green and gold slithered across the sky. Here and there blue spots punctuated the broad bands of color.

Right after walking outside I called the river to me. Did anyone ever tell you an aurora can be called? It can. You must experiment to find the right song; each show is different. This one liked minor notes, and when I held them as long as possible, the bands of light shimmered in response.

When it got directly over the cabin, bright spots of red fringed the green. I filled my lungs with the frigid air and this induced a coughing fit. I had to put the fur ruff across my mouth and warm the air for a few breaths before I could sing again.

Instead of dashing away across the sky as they sometimes do, this one waited. When I sang to it again, the red color fluttered up and out like huge wings. Then spears of light flung themselves downward. I couldn't believe what I saw.

I must go inside. Even with the bunny boots on my toes were getting cold. But I wanted to stay right where I was. Then one of the broad red patches swirled around in a tight spiral, and the whole thing vanished. In an instant, the entire aurora vanished.

Stunned, I stood unable to move for a moment before turning and dashing back into the warm cabin. My heart pounded in my chest. I doubted sleep would come easy. Not after witnessing that display.

In a fog, I shrugged out of the parka and put my outdoor gear away. It was impossible to erase the sight of the dancing lights out of my head. Up in the loft, with my window curtains tied back, I gazed out into the dark night sky hoping the river would return.

Under the covers, I watched and waited. The stars blazed with color in the deep black night. It is uncanny how close they look and how bright the night sky is at temperatures below zero. A meteor flashed through the darkness for an instant and flashed out.

I fell asleep at some point; I'm not sure when. But my dreams were filled with the colors of the aurora. They shimmied and slithered in a cosmic dance overhead.  In my dreams, I danced on the stream high in the sky.

Coffee was a necessity in the morning. Feeling as though I had a head cold, I didn't bounce out of bed as usual. I'm a morning person. The silence of the early morning hours soothes me. Not that I need to worry about noise much out here.

That's one reason I came back. All my friends thought I needed to have my head examined. The refrain was the same with almost all of them. Alaska? It gets so cold there. What can you do out in that God-forsaken waste land?

This country is actually the opposite of God-forsaken. It is all about living with an environment that can and will kill you if you don't respect the rules. The rules are fairly simple. The first is to keep the heat going at all costs until summer. Don't put yourself in the position of losing too much heat. If you see someone who having problems, you help them. They may be your angel of mercy down the road.

So I packed up the SUV, loaded in the cats and came north. As soon as I got to the old place, I contacted a local man who does contracting and had him make sure everything still functioned properly. Thankfully, my grandpa did a good job of putting the cabin together years ago, and Dad kept the place up.

After replacing a few pieces of plywood on the roof and going over the old rolled surface roofing with metal, he declared the cabin as safe as ever. I filled the big diesel fuel tank, and everything was ready for winter.

I work from home. There's no need for me to dash out into the cold and go to work.  I have other interests beside what I do for a living. Weaving is one thing I picked up in my travels. One demonstration by a Navajo weaver hooked me. I didn't need a big loom that would never fit inside my small cabin. I constructed what I needed from pre-cut lumber and was ready to go in a day.

I'm self-sufficient, self-contained, and not afraid to be alone for days on end. Now and again, if the itch gets too bothersome, I travel into Anchorage. I have two male friends in town. One is divorced and not ready for another relationship. The other is not ready for any relationship.

We all check in with each other via the social media sites all the time. The three of us are friends, and no one is ready to leave our cushy little cocoons. Comfortable with the way things are, we are doing what we enjoy when we want to.

Snug in my little place, I create internet media for individuals and companies. As long as the internet works, I'm happy. I can vanish for days into my own little world... content as a bear hibernating in the woods.

Then everything came crashing down when I made a grave error. I disregarded two warnings from both sides of my family. My song to the aurora put me in the middle of something I never expected to find.

Chapter Two

Have I forgotten to tell you who I am? This is normal for me. My mind is so often ahead of my fingers. I am Sami and Athabaskan. An odd combination actually... I am a product of our government's manipulation.

Many years ago the government thought to help the Inuit of Alaska by teaching them to herd reindeer. They encouraged Sami emigration for this purpose. My people traveled halfway around the world to help others. So my great grandfather settled in Teller, Alaska in the 1890s with the sole purpose of teaching the Inuit and Yupik how to herd the animals.

My relatives were disenfranchised when the government decided only non-whites could own reindeer. They were forced to sell out their entire herds for paltry sums. Since they depended on the animals for everything, some Sami felt betrayed. They returned to the home and family they had left.

Others had married into this land. For them going home wasn't an option. Among those who stayed was my grandfather. He met and married a woman of Yupik and Athabaskan ancestry. She convinced him to accompany her back to her homeland in the Northeast corner of Alaska.

But he did not feel comfortable, so the entire family moved south down the Copper River. Because of this move, I own a cabin in the vast wilderness known as the Copper Basin.

When I was younger, my father sent me to live with relatives in Washington State. I went to school there and started my internet business there. But the longing for home was too great. I had to return. I share this property with my brother, Dure. But he isn't ready to return home, so I live here alone.

It was Dure who defied all the stories of the elders both Sami and Athabaskan. He taught me to whistle down the lights. An adventurous child, I found one could do greater feats if you sang to the lights. I loved watching the colors dance.

Again I was defying my parents by bringing the aurora to me with song. My parents were no longer around to censure me for my actions. And foolishly, I failed to understand that myths are based on fact. It should have occurred to me that if two different traditions separated by thousands of miles believed the same thing; a kernel of truth might exist.

As always, I carved out a different path. With experience comes wisdom. My experience has introduced a note of caution into an otherwise, heedless spirit. When my brother and I see each other again, I will advise him to go inside when the lights are out if he can't keep his mouth shut.

Since this is my tale, I will tell it in my own good time. But please heed my warning. Do not sing to the Aurora Borealis. It is dangerous.

***

I love deeply cold winter nights. As long as there is something to heat my home with, wood or fuel oil, I don't care how low the temperature falls. Nights when the thermometer plunges to -40 degrees are unlike any other most