Guardians of Ga'Hoole 05 - The Shattering

Ezylryb was lost, it was because the bags of flecks had destroyed his sense of the quadrants for navigation. He no longer knew where the earth’s magnetic poles were.”
    A creaky voice scratched the air. “Indeed, Otulissa. You are right.” It was Ezylryb. “Aha! A humors chart,” the old Whiskered Screech proclaimed.
    “Humors?” Twilight said. “What’s so funny about an owl gizzard and brain?”
    “It’s not ha-ha humor. No, not in the least. The lost book, Fleckasia and Other Disorders of the Gizzard, would haveexplained much about humors…and how they relate to shattering.”
    Soren blinked. Shattering was the terrible disease that Otulissa had told them about.
    “Tell me, Ezylryb,” Soren asked hesitantly. “Is that what’s wrong with Dewlap? Was she shattered?”
    Ezylryb sighed heavily, then shook his head. “No, she is not shattered. She is an old and foolish owl. Still, there was no rupture between the gizzard and brain. She was just misguided, used bad judgment, and her focus was limited. She felt the Pure Ones would take better care of the tree than we would.”
    “But what exactly is ‘shattering’?” Otulissa asked.
    “It is very complicated, Otulissa. It is even beyond higher magnetics, which I know you know a lot about. But without the book, I don’t know how I could begin to explain it.”
    “It’s connected to higher magnetics?” Otulissa asked.
    “Oh, indeed it is. You know how in all of our brains there are tiny bits of magnetic particles much smaller than flecks. They are sometimes called iron oxides. They aid us with navigation because they help us sense the earth’s magnetic field.”
    Primrose had come into the library and was now also listening intently.
    “Imagine, however, if something disturbed those bits in our brain,” Ezylryb continued. “Exposure to too many flecks not only causes problems to the internal compass that we use for navigational purposes, as it did mine, but in certain conditions it can cause a shattering to other vital systems. In fact, sometimes it is not the navigational system that is affected, but the gizzard. The gizzard itself becomes almost like stone, incapable of sorting out feelings and emotions. It can even cause delusions. That is what fleckasia is all about.”
    “Well, is there a book on the humors or these quadrants, so I can find out more?” Otulissa asked.
    “Oh, yes, indeed. Here, let me show you.” Ezylryb made his way toward a far shelf in the library, and Otulissa bustled behind him. The other four owls looked at one another. This was Otulissa’s kind of thing, not theirs. Soren was thankful that Ezylryb had come in. Perhaps if Otulissa began sinking herself into a study of fleckasia, she would ease up on her battle plans for attacking the Pure Ones. She was sure they would be back. She kept saying, “First strike! We must make the first strike!” But Soren knew she would never convince Boron and Barran or any of the parliament members. It was absolutely against the tradition of the Guardians to strike the first blow, certainly not on the scale that Otulissa was planning.
    “Can I come look at the book, too?” Primrose asked.
    Otulissa blinked as did the others. Primrose had never struck them as much of an intellect. “Sure,” said Otulissa.
    “Just want to take a peek,” Primrose said.
    The sun was well up over the horizon by the time the owls made their way to their hollows. Eglantine was tired because that night had been the first long-distance flight she had made in some time. Madame Plonk had begun to sing the “Night Is Done” song, and by the time she reached the second verse, Eglantine was sound asleep.
    Primrose had come back to the hollow she shared with Ginger and Eglantine just after Madame Plonk had begun the song. She had been reading with Otulissa in the library the whole time. Now, as she entered the hollow, Ginger woke up.
    “Where’ve you been?”
    “Reading in the library,” Primrose answered.
    “Must have been interesting.”
    For the second time ever, Primrose lied outright. “Oh, just doing some of those game and riddle books that Eglantine loves so much.” She looked over and blinked at her best friend. Then she turned again to Ginger and whispered, “I do hope she stops having those dreams. Iknow she says they are lovely but I think they’re not. She twitches all night long when she has them.”
    “Yes,” said Ginger sleepily. “I know what you mean. Sometimes I just