Guardians of Ga'Hoole 02 - The Journey

even become a collier.”
    “A what?” asked Soren.
    “A collier—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 owls—all kinds of owls from Burrowing ones to Barn Owls, from Pygmy Owls to Elf Owls, from Screech Owls to Sooty Owls, from GreatHorned 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 ended…”
    Just one? thought Soren.
    But just then a series of deep, rolling gongs began to shake the entire tree. Barran stopped mid-speech.
    “Chaws—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 Glaux—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 toeach 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
    T hey 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 passages of varying widths, all quite twisty and none that seemed to go in a straight line. Off the passageways 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 passage 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 hollowthat 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?”