"No!" Soren said more fiercely. "Look, I'm going to fly down close to the water."

"That could be dangerous," Digger said. "Soren, that wind is kicking up big waves. You could be caught by one, and believe me, I don't think that you're the swimmer that the puffin was. You could be dragged right under."

"I'll be careful. Mrs. P., if you want to slither onto Twilight, you can."

"No, dear, I'll stick with you. I'm not frightened."

"Good."

Soren began a banking turn down toward the water. Now, amid the blizzarding snow, the spume from the crests of waves spun up. How would he ever see a current in this mess? He flew lower. Still nothing. What if the others had flown off? Just given up. Could he truly blame them? He had the most dreadful feeling in his gizzard. What if he was left alone out herea"just him and Mrs. P.?

Suddenly, Soren felt something stir in his gizzard. He said nothing but contracted and expanded his pupils. The world was absolutely white now. Oh, this was when he needed Twilight!

"Right here, Soren."

"Twilight! You followed me down."

"Call me a fool." Twilight peered into the whiteness, stretched, then shortened his actual eye tubes so that one second he was focusing near and the next far. Within the depths of the impenetrable white, Twilight saw two even whiter patches.

"Come, young'uns. You're right over the current. Can't tell it on a night like this, though. So, welcome to the Island of Hoole."

Two giant Snowy Owls had melted out from the night and they were so white that by comparison the mist seemed gray.

"I am Boron and this is my mate, Barran."

"You are the king and the queen of Hoole." Twilight whispered.

Digger and Gylfie, exhausted, plummeted down near them.

"Yes, my dears. But we prefer to be called teachers, or rybs. The word ryb means teacher and deep knowledge," said Barran.

"We're not keen on t.i.tles," chuckled Boron.

"But you came out to meet us?" said Soren.

"Of course," replied Boron. "You've done the hard part. Now let us guide you the rest of the way. It's not far."

The blizzard had been swallowed by the mist and the mist now seemed to melt away against the whiteness of Boron and Barran. The night turned black again and the stars broke out. As a half moon rose, the four young owls looked below and saw the vast sea glinting with silver spangles from the moonlight and then, directly ahead, spreading into the night, were the twisting branches of the largest tree they had ever seen, the Great Ga'Hoole Tree.

"We are here, Mrs. Plithiver. We are here!" Soren whispered.

"I know, dear. I feel it. I feel it!"

The four young owls, led by Boron and Barran, threaded their way through the branches toward the center of the tree where the opening of a hollow was revealed. Two Great Horned Owls held the moss curtains apart using their beaks as the young ones flew through. They alighted down inside. Soren thought that this hollow was not only huge but different from any other tree hollow he had ever seen, for it was light even though it was night. On the inside were strange flickering things.

Boron came up to Soren and the other three owls. "I see you have noticed our candles. You see, here in Hoole we have discovered how to capture fire and tame it for our own uses. You shall learn all about this, young ones. And who knows? One of you might even become a collier."

"A what?" asked Soren.

"A colliera"a carrier of coals. It is a very special skill. But there are many skills you shall be able to learn here in the Great Ga'Hoole Tree, and we are all here to teach you. These shall be your rybs."

With those words, Boron swept his wings toward the walls of the hollow. There were ledges that hung like galleries above. Soren, Twilight, Gylfie, and Digger gasped as they saw a great gathering of owlsa"all kinds of owls from Burrowing ones to Barn Owls, from Pygmy Owls to Elf Owls, from Screech Owls to Sooty Owls, from Great Horned Owls to Snowy Owls. Every kind of owl imaginable was here within the hollow of the great tree, their yellow, black, and amber eyes blinking and winking in the most friendly and inquisitive manner at the five new arrivals.

Barran continued, "Welcome, young ones. Welcome to the Great Ga'Hoole Tree. One journey has endeda"

Just one? thought Soren.

But just then a series of deep, rolling gongs began to shake the entire tree. Barran stopped mid-speech.

"Chawsa"back up to your positions!" This hoot came from a Great Gray Owl in the gallery. Then, it seemed as if the entire hollow suddenly brightened as owls began donning battle claws and helmets, and the flames of the candles flickered off the bright polished surfaces of the armored owls.

"Great Glauxa"a battle! Quick, let's get our claws!" Twilight began to hop up and down, pumping his wings.

"Not so fast, young'un." A plump, Short-eared Owl waddled up to them.

"But where's the battle?" Twilight said.

"Beyond the Beyond." The Short-eared Owl fixed him in the glow of her amber gaze. "And it's not for you or you," she said, turning to Gylfie, "or you or you." She nodded to each one of the band. "And who are you?" She blinked at Mrs. P.

"Mrs. Horace Plithiver, nest-maid. I do have references."

"I see. Come along, all of you."

"But what about the battle?" Twilight sputtered.

"What about it? Not much really, just a skirmish on the borderlands between Silverveil and Beyond the Beyond."

CHAPTER EIGHT.

First Night to First Light

They had begun by following the Short-eared Owl, known as Matron, through the enormous trunk of the Great Ga'Hoole Tree, which was honeycombed with pa.s.sages of varying widths, all quite twisty and none that seemed to go in a straight line. Off the pa.s.sageways there were hollows of different sizes. Some, it seemed, were for sleeping, others for study of some sort, some for stores and supplies. Soren peeked into one and saw stacks and stacks of the strange flickering things that Boron said were called candles. Sometimes Matron led them through a pa.s.sage to the very end, where there might be a hole from which they would fly to another level of the tree, then reenter through another opening and resume their interior trail through the trunk of the tree. As best as Soren could figure out, the sleeping quarters were closer to the top of the tree, meeting hollows for large and smaller congregations of owls seemed to be below, along with a hollow that was called a kitchen, from which very good smells issued. There were places along the way where small groups of owls gathered to socialize. These seemed to be near the points where some of the larger branches of the tree joined the trunk. There were good-sized openings at these points so that owls could either sit inside on specially constructed perches or outside on the branches themselves.

"Now, I want you young'uns to stay out of the way. We've got some wounded owls coming in and I have to arrange for their care." They were flying up through the branches, following the Short-eared Owl to the hollow that would be theirs.

"Matron, we're going to need moss and down. Search-and-rescue's coming in with two more little ones. Nest decimation." Another Short-eared Owl flew by with a wad of something fluffy in her talons.

"Oh, no! Poor little things."

"Nest decimation. What's that?" Soren asked.

"Accidental destruction of nests." A young Spotted Owl flew up as they landed on a branch midway up the tree.

"Otulissa, thank goodness. Can you show these new arrivals to that hollow we cleaned out yesterday?"

"Certainly, Matron."

"And see if Cook has any tea or cakes left over. They look half starved."

"Certainly."

The Spotted Owl named Otulissa showed them to their hollow. "What is going on here?" Twilight asked her.

"Oh, there've been some skirmishes up in the borderlands, nothing too serious."

"Is it St. Aggie's?" Soren asked. "We know all about St. Aggie's. Gylfie and I escaped." Otulissa blinked.

"And we killed their top two lieutenants when they came after Digger here. So we're ready to fight," Twilight added. The Spotted Owl blinked again. "I mean, we're in the right place, aren't we? The Great Ga'Hoole Tree?" Twilight had stepped closer to the owl to ask his question.

"Where each night the order of knightly owls rises to perform n.o.ble deeds," Soren offered in a softer voice. An uncertain feeling that was not quite a doubt, yet not a real belief, began to stir in Soren's gizzard. "This is the place?" his voice quavered.

"Of course it's the place," the Spotted Owl replied.

"Then get us some battle clawsa"we're ready!" Twilight stomped one talon impatiently.

"You're ready!" Otulissa gasped. "You think just because you escaped and killed two rattlebrained owls, you're ready?"

"And the bobcat," Soren said.

"And the crows," Digger piped up. "Well, not exactly killed them, but drove them off."

Gylfie was very still, however. She had said nothing. But now the Elf Owl stepped forward. "Are you trying to tell us we are not readyathatathat it takes more?"

"Indeed. There is nothing that n.o.ble about slaughtering two bad owls in the desert." The Spotted Owl rose up to her full height and looked down her beak at Gylfie. In a very haughty voice she said, "You have not been tempered by battle yet. Nor do you know the first thing about strategy. You probably don't even know how to fly with battle claws. I have been here much longer than you and still have not yet become a member of a chaw."

"What's a chaw?" Soren said.

"You are selected to join a chawa"a small team of owlsa"and you will learn a skill that is helpful."

"In battle?" Twilight asked.

"Not just battlea"in life. There is more to life than just battles. Each chaw has its own, oh, how should I put it? Personality. Navigation chaw tends to have a kind of elegance, they are all superb flyers, as are the members of search-and-rescue, but they, of course, are less refined. Weather interpretation and colliering are decidely rough and uncouth. But," and the Spotted Owl fixed a very intense gaze on Twilight, "they are all fiercely brave and can fight or fly to the death!"

Twilight seemed to swell in antic.i.p.ation, but Soren almost shrank with fear. Would he be up to it? He had to be. With his friends, he could. Look what they had accomplished so far! "Do we all get to be in the same chaw?" Soren asked.

"Probably not."

"But we're a band." Soren hoped that he did not sound as if he were pleading.

"That doesn't matter now. You're part of a larger band. I have to go."

"Duty calls, I suppose," Gylfie said with a slight edge in her voice.

"I suppose it does." Otulissa again looked down at the Elf Owl, then she left the hollow. Soren thought Gylfie was going to spit at her.

"I don't like her one bit," Twilight said.

"Me, neither. Did you see how she looked at me? She might think she's all hoity-toity and very refined, but I bet she makes tasteless stature jokes all the time." Gylfie was very sensitive, like many Elf Owls, about remarks concerning size and shortness. Her grandmother had been a founder of SOSa"the Small Owl Societya"whose purpose was to prevent cruel and tasteless remarks about size.

"Make way! Make way!" Just outside their hollow, they saw two burly Great Horned Owls flying by, carrying a hammock with another owl collapsed on it. The wounded owl's helmet was askew and one wing drooped off the edge of the hammock at an odd angle.

Then, through the walls of the hollow, Soren thought he heard the mewling sound of a young crying owl and another voice saying, "There, there." Soren crept out of an opening leading into an inner pa.s.sageway that wound through the trunk. There were many of these pa.s.sageways and it seemed to Soren that one might get hopelessly lost. But he began to follow the sound. Soon, he came to another hollow. Like most, this hollow had both an inside and an outside entrance so that one could either fly in or walk in from one of the many inner pathways through the trunk of the tree. He peeked in. He saw the Short-eared Owl called Matron who had led them to their own hollow. She was bustling about, plucking down from her own breast and tucking it in around an owl. "Now, now, dear, we know you did your best."

"But what will Mum and Da think?" For a moment Soren's gizzard gave a lurch. Could this little owl be Eglantine?

"They will think that you were a brave little Pygmy Owl," Matron replied.

Soren sighed.

"What are you doing out there? Just don't stand around, come in and make yourself useful," Matron called. Soren came slowly into the hollow. The little owl was nearly as small as Gylfie; she was very fluffy, although she smelled of soot and some of her feathers were singed. "Now what did you say your name was, dear?" Matron bent over the Pygmy Owl.

"Primrose."

"Yes. Primrose here lost her nest."

"The whole tree," gulped the little owl.

"Yes, indeed. See, her parents had gone off to fight in the borderlands skirmishes, and they had left her all safe and sound."

"I was supposed to be sitting the two new eggs. Mum was really only off hunting, not fighting. She was going to be right back."

"What happened?" Soren asked.

"A firea"forest fire. I didn't think it would reach our tree and when it did, well, I tried to save one of the eggs. But you know, I haven't been flying that long and, well, I justa" Here, she began to sob uncontrollably.

A bunchy Barred Owl poked her head in. "Any tea here?"

"Oh, yes, I think a cup of milkberry tea would be lovely."

"I dropped the egg. I don't deserve to live." Primrose emitted a long sound halfway between a whistle and a wail.

"Don't say that!" Soren exclaimed. "Of course you deserve to live. Every owl deserves to live. That's why we came here."

Matron stopped what she was doing and c.o.c.ked her head and regarded the young Barn Owl. Perhaps he was learning; just perhaps he was beginning to catch a glimmer of the true meaning of a n.o.ble deed. She would leave him to comfort this little Pygmy Owl and send in an extra cup of tea and some milkberry tart.

Soren stayed with Primrose for the rest of the evening. She was sometimes a bit feverish and would begin to mumble about the little brother she was sure she had killed. She had wanted to call him Osgood. Other times, she was quite lucid and would blink and say to Soren, "But what about Mum? What about Da? What will they think when they come home and find our forest burned, our tree gone? Will they look for me?"