Guardians of Ga'Hoole 05 - The Shattering

base, but it would do for now.
    They had barely lighted down on a top branch with Eglantine propped as before, guarding the egg, when Nyra and her squadron burst through. But coming around fromthe other end with burning branches was the Chaw of Chaws.
    Eglantine’s eyes were fastened on Twilight who, in a flame-clear space, was advancing on Nyra.
    Backing him up was Soren with not one but two burning branches—one held in his beak and the other in his talons.
    Martin was looping in and out of the Ga’Hoole owls and igniting their branches with a small twig. Ruby was flying at high speed directly through the enemy squadron and making them scatter. But above the crackling and hissing of the fire, Twilight’s voice could be heard. He had begun one of his battle chants.

You smokin’ now,
You moonfaced owl.
These flames gonna make you howl.
You gonna skitter
Back to where you from.
And now you think you ain’t so dumb?
Well, just let me tell you this—
You dumb as a fish,
Dumb as a snail,
Dumb as a rock,
And I shall prevail!

    Nyra seemed confused and stunned. She had never before encountered Twilight, whose battle chants were in their own way as sharp and deadly as any battle claw. She had heard about this chant-talking owl and never understood how it could so disarm other owls. But I am not other owls. I want my chick, my baby, my Sacred Orb. And above her, Nyra heard the heartbeats of two owls high in a tree.
    Then everything happened so quickly that Eglantine and Primrose could not see what was coming or understand the words being yelled. Nyra had somehow avoided Twilight’s swipe with the burning branch and had flown up as if she were flying directly toward Eglantine and Primrose. Primrose screamed something, but now the Pygmy Owl was no longer there. Had Nyra killed her? Why was she, Eglantine, standing on this branch all by herself still clutching the egg?
    And now their voices from the flames were coming to her.
    It was Soren’s voice. “Drop the egg! Drop the egg.”
    “I can’t! I can’t! It gives us power, Soren. Power!”
    Then she heard a sterner voice. Great Glaux. It’s Boron.
    “Drop the egg. That is a command!”
    But their voices were now very dim in Eglantine’s head. Her gizzard stilled, her eyes fixed on the most beautifulsight she had ever seen. Flames leaping joyfully, freely, they wound like the most gorgeous banners into the blackness of the night. For, indeed, the conflagration that raged around her was pulling the deadliest trick of all. Eglantine was flame dazed and halfway to being completely fire blinked. She saw only beauty. She felt no heat. The fire was leaping from treetop to treetop. Eglantine’s treetop was next.
    “It’s crowning,” Soren yelled in a hoarse voice. “It’s crowning, Eglantine. You’ll be burned alive!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The Gollymopes
    N yra looked at the shattered fragments of eggshell at her feet. She nudged them gently with her talon.
    “Your Pureness, we must move on. There is a rolling bed of embers moving toward us. And the tree”—Uglamore looked up at the tree from which the egg had dropped—“It’s about to fall. There will be more eggs in the future, Your Pureness, rest assured.”
    “I am assured but I shall not rest. And I vow to kill Eglantine if it is the last thing I ever do.” Her once-white face was almost black now with soot. She flapped her wings once, twice, and rose in the air. “Kill! Kill! Kill Eglantine, the betrayer, murderer of the Sacred Orb!”
    When she had composed herself, Nyra turned to Uglamore. “Where have they all gone? There was an entire division. How can they just vanish?” They were flying west toward the distant lands known as Beyond the Beyond where the Pure Ones had secured a stronghold.
    “Uh…” Uglamore hesitated. He had known this moment would come, and he had a response prepared. But he was nervous. “Well, Your Pureness, they know how to fly in fires, these owls of Ga’Hoole. There is nothing like them. They can hide behind flame curtains and find passageways through them that we cannot.”
    “Hmmm,” Nyra replied.
    He cast a nervous glance at her. Maybe she believed him. It sounded reasonable. There was no way that he would ever tell her the truth: that it had all been a ruse, that they had been tricked, that seventy-five owls had been outwitted and outmaneuvered by a mere twenty-four owls—and none with battle claws! It gave Uglamore pause. Was it possible , he thought,