Guardians of Ga'Hoole 04 - The Siege

agent. The blood would splatter, the feathers would fly. It was under this cover of blood and feathers that the Chaw of Chaws would escape.
    Soren swept his head about in an almost complete circle. Everyone was in place. Martin, Digger, and Otulissa were plying the well-worn paths with their little bundles of moss and tucking them into the nests for cushioning and insulation of the eggs. Soren, Ruby, and Twilight were sitting on nests. Of all the owls, Twilight had been the most challenged by St. Aggie’s. Independent by nature, proud of his experience in “The Orphan School of Tough Learning,” St. Aggie’s required just the opposite—complete submission, humility, and unquestioning obedience. Yet Twilight had proved himself to be a superb actor. Now, tonight he was going to be an actor no longer. It was Twilight who would instigate the fight by uncovering the turnfeather agents.
    A Barn Owl moss tender was making his way toward the nest on which Twilight sat. It was one of the turnfeathers. Perfect! Soren thought. They had been waiting for just this opportunity: One spy had just put flecks in, and now another, a double agent, was ready to pull them out. Twilight would expose them both.
    “You Barn Owls!” Twilight yawned and then a snarlseemed to curl his voice. “Your pal over there, 78-2, was just here stuffing in new moss and now you’re here taking it out.”
    A silence seemed to fall over the hatchery. “What did you just say?” the turnfeather asked, forgetting the rule of never asking questions.
    “Hey, same thing over here,” Ruby piped up. “Give a broody some peace. These Barn Owls…” She couldn’t finish her sentence. The Barn Owl who had poked moss into Twilight’s nest minutes earlier suddenly flew back across the hatchery. With a rake of her talons, she slashed the head of the double agent Barn Owl.
    “Fight!” Twilight screeched.
    In an instant, the hatchery was an explosion of feathers. At first, it was just Barn Owl against Barn Owl, and Soren himself had to dodge plenty of blows as he made his way up to the rim of the hatchery. But the owls who were not Barn Owls felt betrayed as well. So they joined in the fight. They didn’t care which Barn Owl they attacked, for they were all spies and enemies of St. Aggie’s.
    Finny was now flying directly toward Soren. “82-85, you’re in on this, too!” The voice creaked in the manner of huge, rotten-timbered trees in winter storms. The jagged scar, like a bolt of black lightning across her pure white face, flickered ominously.
    “Got me a taste for Barn Owl, I do, I do.” Now her voice seemed to seep out thickly with relish at the very thought of such a taste. Soren remembered that she had an appetite for unhatched eggs and freshly hatched chicks. He could smell it on her, and it made him nauseous. She was advancing directly on him now, her talons spread for attack, her beak pulled open.
    “Egg eater!” Soren screamed, and dodged in flight. She kept coming. The sweet nauseating stench rolled through the still air of the hatchery. Soren felt a slash to his tail-feathers as another owl flew by and struck him from the rear. He saw specks of blood fly through the air. Finny was backing him into a corner. There would be no flight space. She was twice his size! Suddenly, a voice rang out, a rhythm seized the air. It was Twilight. A taunt blistered the hatchery as the Great Gray flew straight in toward Finny.
Oh, Auntie this and Auntie that,
You ain’t nothing but a white-feathered rat.
    One-two-three-four,
I got something else in store.
    Five-six-seven-eight,
You’re about to meet your fate.
    Nine-ten-eleven-twelve,
Oh, great Glaux, you sure do smell!
    A special place for egg suckers like you,
Yeah—you’ll make a tasty stew!
    Auntie had gone into a yeeplike daze. She drifted to the ground, her eyes glazed in a kind of fascinated terror as Twilight danced in the air above her. Soren flung out his talons, toppled her over, and rose in flight. “Let’s get out of here!”
    “Wait,” Twilight cried. “I haven’t finished. I feel another verse coming on.”
    “Are you yoicks?” screamed Otulissa.
    “Come on, Twilight!” Gylfie swept by and then suddenly Finny seemed to regain her senses. She stared at Gylfie, reached out with one talon, and knocked the little Elf Owl flat. Gylfie trembled in a corner as the huge and now truly enraged Snowy Owl came toward her.
    “I know you, I know you!” she kept saying. “And I