Guardians of Ga'Hoole 04 - The Siege

watchful and keep his own counsel. Time would reveal all. He was sure of one thing—this was not Otulissa’s fault. No one revered books as much as that young Spotted Owl. He would bring the book back. He had learned the art of book repair from the Glauxian Brothers. He would dry it carefully in the heat of embers. He would oil its spine. He would care for the book as best he could. He bent over to pick up the book in his beak but, as he did so, there was a damp whispery breath halfway between a sigh and a moan and the spine of the book split. The sodden pages fell onto the beach. The surf, friskier than usual, lapped high and Ezylryb watched, stunned, as the water caught the remnants of the book and carried its pages out to sea. I am a scientist, he thought. I am a rationalist, a reasoned thinker. I do not believe in omens, or superstitions. But something terrible seems to brew anon, on the cusp of these winterlies.
    And it was as if on the ruined pages of a book brutalized by the sea, a new story was being written.
    I fear for Hoole, thought Ezylryb. I fear for the great tree!
    Kludd perched high in the tallest tree on Cape Glaux. Beside him was Nyra, a female Barn Owl. She gazed at the High Tyto. Finally, he was hers. Together they would rule the kingdoms of owls—not just the southern ones, but the Northern Kingdoms as well. She had picked him out when he was just a nestling. True, she was older, but what did it matter? She was not that much older. She had been so young when she was with the old High Tyto. She had spotted Kludd on one of their recruiting missions through the Forest Kingdom of Tyto. There was a look in that nestling’s eye. She knew he would be perfect. The old High Tyto couldn’t last forever. There was no one else except herself who could lead. But they needed more heirs. There must always be eggs in a nest. They had to think of the future. The kingdoms should all be populated with Ty-tos, with Pure Ones. And it would be, as soon as they got to the Island of Hoole. For it was on that island in the great tree that Kludd and Nyra would have their first true nest—a nest with eggs! Young Pure Ones to hatch by spring! Oh, the very thought of it made her dizzy.
    Kludd looked at his mate. His black eyes glittered darkly behind the mask. She knew he was anxious. “Soon, my dear, soon. These winterlies will ease off,” she said to him.
    But Kludd was lost in his own thoughts. Yes, there would be eggs. But before that, there would be death. The death of his brother. He and Nyra would plan it meticulously, as they had planned the murder of the former High Tyto more than a year before. How thrilling those early days had been when he had escaped his pathetic family. From the very start, from Kludd’s first moments in the hollow of the old fir tree he had known that he had hatched into the wrong family. He was so different from them all. They were weak and stupid. He was strong. All they seemed to care about were the foolish old legends.
    Oh, yes, his father knew a lot of history from the old owl kingdoms. He even had a great-grandfather who had fought in the Battle of Little Hoole and lost an eye. But all he talked about were the blessings of peace. He wouldn’t even permit them to speak about battle claws. That, of course, was what caused the first really big fight between Kludd and his father.
    It happened just before Soren hatched. Kludd had seen a Barn Owl fly by with battle claws. He would never forget the flash of those claws through the leafy green canopy of the forest in the full summer. It was dazzling. His gizzard had trembled with such excitement, he thought it might pop. For days, that was all he could talk about. He couldn’t understand why his father had no interest in visitingthe rogue smith who made them. Then the St. Aggie’s raids began, and there were the rumors of egg snatching. Other families in Tyto began getting battle claws from the rogue smith to defend their hollows, and Kludd thought his father would get some, too. But he had still refused, and he continued to forbid talk of such things.
    Then one day when both his parents were away, along with Mrs. Plithiver, some Barn Owls flew by—large, strong ones, and all with battle claws. One of the owls was Nyra. They stopped to chat. Kludd could hardly take his eyes off their shining claws. They didn’t speak of long-ago legends. They spoke of parts of forests they had conquered, small rulers they had driven out—some they