Guardians of Ga'Hoole 04 - The Siege
snare.
The first battle had been won. Scattered enemy owls had been snagged in the deadly snares.
But on the far side of Hoolemere, where the wind swept down like sharp blades from the Ice Narrows, a small division of owls led by Nyra and Kludd pressed against the fierce headwinds. Kludd looked at his mate with admiration. As a native of the Northern Kingdoms, she knew these winds. She knew the vagaries of their sudden switches that created stormy eddies and whirlpools of air. And she knew, as she had told Kludd, that this side of Hoolemere would be lightly defended and easily penetrated.
Just wait until the hireclaws arrive. Her gizzard stirred with excitement at the thought, and she turned to Kludd. “We may have lost the first battle, my dear. But we shall win the war!”
CHAPTER TWENTY
The News Is Not Good
T he wind had died and the snare waved languidly in the occasional remnant gusts. Soren scanned the vines. One severely wounded owl had been extricated and flown off in an airborne hammock between two Boreal Owls who worked as matrons in the infirmary. It was odd. Soren thought that the very vines that had caused injury and death could also be woven to make rescue transports. Nine owls hung in macabre configurations of death with their wings twisted and their heads askew. There was nothing particularly glorious or heroic about war, Soren realized. It was really nothing more than a grubby, vile task to vanquish a foul tyranny led by his own brother. Even Twilight seemed subdued in the face of the sheer ugliness that had now been woven into the snare. It seemed so strange to Soren that the same motions that wove beautiful music from the harp of Madame Plonk or the beautiful tapestries and laces that hung in the Great Ga’Hoole Tree had now been used to weave this cloth of death. Hecould not wait to leave the snare. The relief snare rippers were expected soon. Soren was completely exhausted.
Back in the tree there were no victory speeches or celebrations over the repulsion of this first attack. Instead there was an uneasy quiet that seemed to flow through the tangle of corridors in the tree. The enemy’s forces had been decimated, but they were said to have thousands, and there were rumors of hireclaws, rogue owls belonging to no kingdom, who could be hired to go into battle for the price of a good set of battle claws.
“Where’s Otulissa?” Gylfie said. “She must be back.”
“Up in the infirmary,” Digger said as he dropped onto a pile of down and stuck his legs straight out in the peculiar posture that he used for sleeping.
“The infirmary!” they all exclaimed.
“Don’t worry. It’s just a scratch. She didn’t even want to go, but they made her,” he said.
“We should go visit her,” Soren said. “But I’m just too tired.”
“We can all go later,” Digger replied.
They were all so exhausted that they thought they would fall asleep immediately. But they didn’t. Perhaps it was the unease that seemed to pervade the great tree.
“They must know about the snares now,” Twilight mused out loud.
“They’ll be more careful next time, won’t they?” Soren said.
“You can’t keep something like that a secret forever,” Gylfie said.
“I heard that the secret was already out in some parts of the western quadrant,” Digger said.
“What?” Gylfie asked.
“Yes, and Sylvana is worried that some of those caches we’ve buried have already been disturbed.”
“Which ones?” Twilight asked.
“The ones with the coals,” he replied.
“Our firepower?” Twilight had lofted to his perch in great alarm. “That’s us!” Twilight meant the Chaw of Chaws. They had been recruited for the Flame Squadron, or as they were sometimes called, the Bonk Brigade. Bonk flames were blue with a flicker of yellow in the center and a tinge of green at the edges. They were intensely hot. These were the same flames that made the fires in Bubo’s forge full of bonk, the best fires for forging metals.
All this news was very disturbing. But finally the owls fell asleep.
“You can go in only if you promise to be very quiet,” the burly Short-eared matron said as she led Soren, Gylfie, Twilight, and Digger into the infirmary which she supervised.“And no talking to that Barn Owl, she’s an official prisoner of war.”
Soren, Digger, Gylfie, and Twilight exchanged glances.
That must be the one who got caught in our snare, Soren thought.
Otulissa was tucked into a downy croft, as
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