Uncle Johan's library was an eclectic mix of books. He had modern neo-pagan books on witchcraft and shamanism, sagas and mythology books from a century ago and, the most intriguing for Jay, a couple of hand bound books that had been passed down in their clan for generations.

That was what had prompted Jay to beg to apprentice with him. It was one thing to read a book written by a modern author on the subject, but to see that this man had a tradition that went back generations was another. There could be no doubt that Johan was the real deal.

Jay would have loved to spend an entire summer just reading, but Johan had work for him the first thing the next morning constructing the spirit boat.

There was no sign of Ghost that morning or into the day. Jay tried to ask about his story, but found Johan as cryptic as his mom. "Why won't anyone tell me directly what the deal is?" He groused.

"Should find out for yourself," Johan answered.

"That's what mom said."

"She's right."

"Why?"

"You'll see in time. Then if you think it should have been handle differently, we can talk about it. Now lay down."

Jay lay on the earth in the indicated spot. Johan hammered stakes at Jay's shoulder, feet and head. Then he gestured Jay up. They used the stakes to lay out the edges of the boat, half burying stones in a narrow oval, with the taller stones towards the top.

"I should have brought the stone carving of a dragon I found at Uncle Darren's cabin. It could be the front bow of my boat. Think he'd like that."

"No," Johan disagreed. "No decorations."

"But," Jay started.

"No. The secret is up here," Johan tapped Jay's forehead. "Once you've mastered the technique you won't need the boat, the drumming, the ritual, anything. Decorations, honouring this person or that, they'll just tie you to the boat, the form of the thing."

"Yes, master," Jay joked.

Constructing the boat took the better part of the day. They saw nothing of Ghost. "Where is he?" Jay asked over supper.

Johan shrugged.

"He comes and goes," Sofia said. "Who knows, maybe he's off to the next farm."

That night Johan fired up the small sauna. He and Jay sweated, a dark intense sweat. Johan sang a long joik, a sami folk song about the wind and ice.

Afterwards they went to Jay's new boat. Sofia had built a small fire beside it. Her and Corey had drums.

Jay lay in the boat, which was barely big enough for his frame. He stared up at the stars.

"You remember the exercise I gave you?" Johan asked.

Jay nodded and closed his eyes, the feel of the stones at his side, the warm, soft earth under him. The smell of pine branches, added to the fire to keep mosquitoes at bay, washed over him. He heard the chirping of crickets and other night sounds.

Corey and Sofia started a simple rhythm. Johan sang, his voice going up and down.

Jay recalled the image of a small cave he'd visited with Amanda and her pack in Northern Iowa. He imagined himself going within. New agers and meditators sought to go up, to transcend their limitations. Shamans and pagans went down, into the earth, to the underworld, to transform them.

He entered the cave and was falling suddenly, through a deep vast darkness.

Lohtta Abelson woke to the sounds of shouting. The embers of the fire lit the Lavvu, the one room, teepee-like house where she lived.

"Akso! Akso!" the voice was shouting, followed by a pounding on the wooden door. "Akso!"

It was Harri Haroldsen, her husband's best friend. Lohtta rose, wrapping a reindeer hide tight around her as she went to answer. The lavvu was small but made of wood and well insulated in heavy sod. Their previous home had been a more traditional lavvu of reindeer hides, back when they herded the reindeer far and wide across the northern tundra. In recent years, the Soviets had become stricter about travel. The northern archipelago was increasingly home to gulags, large prisons for the people the Soviets hated. And the Soviets had many people they hated.

The Sami found themselves persecuted as they had never been before. Asko had decided that it was too dangerous to wander the archipelago, and they'd settled in a village on the Finnish border.

Now rumours of a great war in the south, the second such war, had come to the north. The last war had not reached this far north, but Finland and Russia were on the verge of fighting this one in Lohtta's own yard.

When the nearest Soviet town, Murmansk, became home to a huge division of Soviet troops, the rumours had been confirmed. In the last few weeks, as the winter began and the long dark fell, their very land became dotted with camps of strange men. Who went to war in the winter? It was foolish.

The cold north wind gusted as Lohtta opened the door for Harri. Outside the snow was blowing hard.

"What brings you out on such a god forsaken night," she groused as he knelt by the fire to warm himself.

"I need Asko," he repeated. "Where is he?"

"Not here," she said. "What do you need him for?"

"They are moving."

"Who?"

"The Soviets. They are moving. Saw it with my own eyes. All their vehicles alive." He made a roaring noise, mimicking the sound of the big trucks and tanks they used. "Their men making ready to march."

"Where? At this hour?"

"Of course at this hour," he snapped. "Don't you see? They'll attack the Finnish line at night, take them by surprise. Lot you know of war."

"To what end?"

"They'll break through at Petsamu, if they can, sweep south to Salla, then down into Finland proper."

Lohtta's heart leaped in her chest. "Asko!" He'd left for Petsamu that day, to see his cousin who had joined the Finnish army, to fight the Soviet.

"Asko and I must go, warn the Finnish, if we can."

"It's too late," Lohtta said. "Asko has gone to Petsamu already."

Harri cried out. "Now what?"

Lohtta rose and began to dress, heedless of Harri. "You must go on, warn the villages. Sami and Finn alike, they must be warned."

"I hoped to have Asko with me," he muttered.

"And you will not."

"What of you?" he asked.

"I must ride as well."

"A woman," he spat.

"So? I can ride as well as you. Now be gone, or the attack shall have come and gone while you yammered at me."

"To where will you ride?" he asked.

"Petsamu. My husband should know this."

"A woman, but a brave one," he said and departed.

It was cold in the night, cold even by Sami standards. Lohta harnessed the strongest reindeer in their herd, tied the straps to the small canoe-like sled and climbed in. The northern lights burned cold over her head.

She saw the soviet column as she went. They were fools, not of this land and with no idea what it took to live here. Their vehicles, even the big all-terrain vehicles meant for the snow, bogged down and got stuck in the blowing drifts. The men gathered around, digging them out. They were clad in dark wools, warm but not nearly warm enough.

Lohtta shot past them and they didn't even see her in the night. She rode behind a reindeer, whose wide feet climbed over drifts their vehicles sank in. She wore thick hides, covered in layers of wool in red, blue and yellow, the colors of the northern lights. Somewhere ahead of her, under those lights, was the Finnish line and they had to be warned of the coming invasion.

Jay sat up with a gasp. Corey and Sofia stopped their drumming and looked at him. Johan broke off his singing.

Jay had done the exercises that Johan had given him faithfully. He caught glimpses of things. More often than not, he wasn't quite sure if they were really visions or just day dreams. This was another order. "Damn," he said. "Now that's a vision."