Guardians of Ga'Hoole 02 - The Journey

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 noble 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 claws—we’re ready!” Twilight stomped one talon impatiently.
    “You’re ready!” Otulissa gasped. “You think just becauseyou 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 ready…that…that it takes more?”
    “Indeed. There is nothing that noble 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 chaw—a small team of owls—and you will learn a skill that is helpful.”
    “In battle?” Twilight asked.
    “Not just battle—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 ofsearch-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 anticipation, 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 concerningsize and shortness. Her grandmother had been a founder of SOS—the Small Owl Society—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 passageway that wound through the trunk. There were many of these passageways 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