Moonsong Glacier mere man ki ganga

She did not know the last word he spoke. It was foreign like her mother’s tongue was to those who came from outside Moonglow. Not even her ancestors had known her mother’s words. Her father knew some, and he spoke them lovingly, but he did not know them in the same way anaa did.

This man was older than both her mother and her father, but that did not intimidate the girl who would come into her own this year. She was, and always had been, comfortable with herself, no matter the company.

These lands are sacred to my family, she said. Memories of a strange man her mother had helped stirred in Sialuk. She could not remember all that had happened then. Too much since that time to sort out details.

The last word you spoke—ladki—this is not common speak. Like my mother speaks to me, but not. Sialuk canted her head to one side, curious.