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I went into this novel with some trepidation, knowing this unfinished sequel to Medicine Walk was the last work of Richard Wagamese. Would it be as profound as his completed and polished Indian Horse, Medicine Walk and Ragged Company? I need not have worried. There he was, right on every page. He writes characters with empathy, depth and humour. He writes of nature, setting, and the landscape of central British Columbia, with reverence. “I felt right out there. Free of measuring up, free of what other people thought I might have to be. It was wild but it had order, flow, rhythm. You could learn that if you were out there enough. I was. It hooked me then. It hooks me now. All I ever have of Indian comes from that alone time there. That land and this land is all the ceremony I ever felt a need for. Watching the sun come up and set on it became all the prayer I ever felt a need to say. This here is my history. This here is my home. It’s alive in me.” Starlight is a final gift from a singular author and a special man.