Guardians of Ga'Hoole 02 - The Journey

had brought in Eglantine? At first, he was numb. He could not do anything. Mrs. Plithiver nursed Eglantine ceaselessly. “Will she live?” That was all Soren could say.
    “I’m not sure, dear,” Mrs. P. said honestly. “All we can do is try.”
    Finally, Soren began to help. He tried feeding her a bit of milkberry tea and in a low voice kept saying, “Eglantine, it’s me, Soren. It’s your brother Soren.” But Eglantine, with her eyes half shut, only continued to babble a word or two of the singsong ditties they all sang. She did seem to be getting better, however, stronger. And when her eyes opened fully, Soren grew excited. “Eglantine!” He leanedover her. “Eglantine. It’s me. Soren! And Mrs. P. is here, too!” But there was not even a flicker of recognition in her eyes. She merely clacked her beak a couple of times and resumed the babble. Soren sighed.
    “Patience, dear. Patience,” said Mrs. Plithiver. “All things take time. See how much stronger her voice is.”
    But Soren did not like what he was hearing. She spoke only of Tytos,ofTytos reigning supreme, seeking vengeance, of Tyto purity, of Tyto superiority, of a world only of Tytos. How would he explain to her that his best friends were an Elf Owl,aGreat Gray, and a Burrowing Owl? That these were his very best friends in all the world, that they were a band?
    By the next evening, Eglantine was well enough to get up on her talons and take a few steps. Soren led her carefully out on the branch and stood beside her. But he might as well have been standing beside a stump. She did whatever he told her, but there was still no recognition. He brought her into the hollow he shared with Twilight, Digger, and Gylfie to sleep, and Primrose came just before Madame Plonk began her song, to show Eglantine some especially pretty berries she had strung.
    “See, Eglantine. Ever since I have been here, I have collected a few berries from each season. So I have white ones from winter and silver from spring and now I’ve got mygolden ones from summer, and I’m making a necklace. I’ll make you one, too.” But Eglantine did not respond.
    “This is worse than being moon blinked,” Soren whispered to Gylfie.
    Gylfie didn’t know what to say. She felt desperately sorry for Soren. She knew that Soren had missed Eglantine so fiercely. But to have her back like this was almost worse than not having her back at all. Gylfie, of course, would never dare say such a thing to Soren. Just then Otulissa peeked her head in.
    “May I come in?”
    “Sure,” Soren said.
    “Look, I’ve been in the library all this time working on Tyto research, to see if there is anything that would explain this—all of them being Tytos and babbling about Tytos, but I somehow got distracted and started looking at a book by a distinguished Spotted Owl that’s about owls’ brains and feelings and gizzards.”
    “Great Glaux,” Twilight muttered and yarped a pellet out the hollow’s opening. “No doubt a relative of yours, Otulissa.”
    “Well, possibly. There were many distinguished intellects in our ancestry and we do go back so far. Anyhow, in this book it says that your sister might be suffering from something he calls ‘gizzlemia.’ It is a blankness of the gizzard.It is as if the gizzard is just walled off and nothing can get through, and because of this there is a malfunction in the brain as well.”
    “Well, that explains so much,” Soren said sarcastically. “What in Glaux’s name am I supposed to do about it?”
    “Well…well,” Otulissa stammered. “I’m not sure. I just thought you’d like to know what’s making her this way. It’s not as if she doesn’t want to remember you. She just can’t help it,” Otulissa said feebly. “I…I mean…I’m sure she loves you still.” Soren stared at her with a hard glint. “Oh, dear. None of this is coming out right.” Otulissa’s eyes welled with tears. “I was just trying to be helpful.”
    Soren just sighed, turned away, and began to fluff up the bed they had made for Eglantine.
    That day, as the darkness leaked away into the morning and the light of morning turned harsh in the glare of noon, in that hot slow time of the day when the silence pressed down despite the babble, Soren felt as lonely as he had ever felt in his life. Lonelier than that first frightening night on the ground when he had been pushed out of the nest by his brother, Kludd, lonelier than when he had been at St. Aggie’s,