Guardians of Ga'Hoole 02 - The Journey

backing out of the hollow.
    “Octavia!” Madame Plonk called as soon as Soren had left. “Octavia, come in here immediately.”
    The fat old nest snake slithered in from a branch where she had hung herself just outside the apartment.
    “Did you hear that, Octavia?”
    “Yes, ma’am. I think we got ourselves a G-flat!”

CHAPTER TWENTY
Fire!
    E zylryb perched on a limb at the very top of the Great Ga’Hoole Tree and squinted into the blueness of the early summer day. He had been perched here for the last two days almost continuously with Poot by his side. They were studying the cloud behavior on the far side of Hoole-mere.
    “Bring the chaw up,” he ordered tersely. “There’s enough for them to observe.”
    “What! What!” Soren yawned sleepily as Poot shook him awake. “It’s the middle of the day, Poot. We’re supposed to be sleeping.”
    “Not now, young’un. Important lesson, top of the tree. Cap wants you there now. Quick-o!”
    What could it be? Soren thought. Poot only called Ezylryb “Cap” when they were on a flight mission. But there wasn’t any bad weather. It was a calm, perfectly clear day. It was the time of the golden rain, when the strands ofGa’Hoole berries that hung from the limbs turned a rich yellow.
    By the time Soren got to the top limb, the others had assembled—albeit sleepily. Martin was yawning into the morning sun, but Otulissa was alert and full of questions and already peppering the air with her observations of cloud formations. Ruby yarped her morning pellet and looked to Soren as if she was so sleepy she might pitch forward off the limb. Just at that moment, Bubo and Elvan arrived. This was the first time Soren had seen Bubo for a while. Presumably, he had been on the reconnaissance mission to The Beaks, and, thankfully, returned safely, as had the others.
    “Put a mouse in it, Otulissa,” Bubo growled and delivered a field mouse headfirst into the talkative owl’s beak.
    “Thank you, Bubo,” Ezylryb said in a low growl and blinked.
    “Now, anyone know why we are here?” Ezylryb turned to the owls of the weather chaw. Otulissa’s talon immediately shot up even though she could not yet talk with her beak stuffed full of mouse. Soren looked around. This was the first time the three rybs, although Bubo was not officially a ryb, had ever been together with the weather chaw. It was obvious: The days of practicing with Bubo’s coalsfrom the forge were over. They were now going into a forest fire. A silence fell upon the young owls. They pulled in their feathers tight to their sides. The only sound was Otulissa gulping the last of the mouse. Then, in barely a whisper, her voice shaking with fear, she said, “But I just ate. How shall I ever fly on such a full stomach?”
    “Don’t worry,” Ezylryb said. “We’re not flying yet. Not until later. But I want you up here today because you’re going to see how fire changes things—the wind, the clouds. You can see these changes even from here. You see, young’uns, there is a fire burning over there across Hoole-mere. A great fire.” He bobbed out on the branch toward the water. “So later, we shall cross Hoolemere. Then we’ll fetch up on some high cliffs on the other side that are perfect for a closer look. We shall camp there for a day or two and then we shall fly in.”
    For the rest of the morning, they observed the unique behavior of the clouds on the far side of Hoolemere. The young owls of the weather chaw were used to odd words such as baggywrinkles and scuppers and gutters. But now there were even stranger words as the rybs discussed “pressure differential,” “thermal inversions,” and “convective columns.”
    By mid-afternoon, they were dismissed to take a shortnap. They would be awakened at tween time, that time between the last drop of sun and the first shadows of twilight, and then take off across Hoolemere.
    “Are you nervous, Ruby?” Soren said as they made their way back from the top limbs for their naps.
    “I’d be a fool not to be,” replied the rusty-feathered owl.
    “But you fly so well.”
    “Not to mention,” Martin added, “that both of you are about twice as big as me.”
    “What are you most scared of?” Soren asked.
    “That thing they call crowning,” Ruby said quickly. “When the fire leaps from treetop to treetop. I can’t imagine what it does to the air. I mean, flying through it must be almost impossible. You could never even half guess where the dead