Guardians of Ga'Hoole 06 - The Burning

mclach? Where you go? I say I no eat owls. You good owls. I see dat owl wear claws of Lyze. Lyze of Kiel. You know Lyze of Kiel?”
    “Do you know Lyze of Kiel?” Soren replied in astonishment. Ezylryb! Soren thought. He knows Ezylryb!
    “I know the Lyze of Kiel? What question is dat? Grachunn naghish prahnorr gundamyrr Lyze effen Kiel er-raggh frisen gunda yo macht leferzundt.”
    “It sounds like he’s gargling with rocks,” Twilight said.
    All four owls were now hovering slightly closer to the polar bear’s head.
    “Are you following any of this, Eglantine?” Soren asked.
    “Not exactly. But frisen gunda means ‘good friend.’”
    “Ja, ja,” the bear was saying. “Good friend is Lyze. Me commander of ice troops during War of Ice Claws.”
    “Ice troops?” Twilight said with sudden interest.
    “Ja. We keep ice floes guarded. Lyze and Glauxspeed unit rearm and refuel on our floes. And old Moss’s unit—the Frost Beaks, too.”
    “Moss! You know Moss?” Soren cried.
    This set off another gush of Krakish, by which the owls understood that this immense white bear streaked with blood did indeed know Moss, and had no interest in devouring them.
    The owls lighted down on the floe. “Are you are saying,” Soren stepped up close to the bear, “that you will lead us to where Moss lives in the Bay of Fangs?”
    “Ja.”
    Those teeth, those fangs, they are as long as I am tall! Soren tried not to tremble as he spoke. “That would be most kind of you.”
    “Ja, I try to be kind.” He looked around and wiped his muzzle again. “Eating seal not mean. Eat just to live. You eat rat, mouse, lemmings just to live. I must eat to live, too. Right?”
    “Yes, exactly,” said Digger stepping forward. “Tell us now, what is your name?”
    “Svallborg. But you can call me Svall.”
    “Good, or rather, gunda. And I am Digger and this is Soren and his sister, Eglantine, and Twilight here. We will follow your lead from the air.”
    “Gunda! Gunda. Framisch longha,” Svallborg said, and then in one long graceful movement shoved himself from the ice floe. The owls rose in the air to follow Svall. He was a beautiful sight. The owls had never imagined that such an enormous animal could move with such grace. Paddling with his front paws and barely making a splash, Svall moved through the water at an amazing speed.
    Eglantine could not help but look back at the baby seal. She saw it slip off the ice floe and swim toward a swirl of water where small silver fish were schooling. Hmmm …, thought Eglantine, maybe she’s a little older than I figured. Just then the seal dived and seconds later came up with a fish flopping in her mouth.
    What will Moss be like? Soren wondered as they flew above the great bear. Ezylryb had said that the claws would be his passport, his safe-conduct permit. But there was a burden that came with the claws as well. What would these owls of the Northern Kingdoms expect from him? What was he supposed to be? Would they think him worthy of the claws? Would they think he was some sort of imposter? And worst of all, he was coming here to askthese owls who had lived in peace for years to join in another battle. What would they think of him and of the cause for which he had been sent?
    It was not exactly fear that Soren was experiencing, but with each stroke of his wings in this vast, frozen, and desolate land he began to feel smaller and smaller and less and less worthy. He looked down at his talons, which were armed in the battle claws of Ezylryb. They glimmered dark and mocking in the light of the moon. They were no heavier than his regular battle claws, but they had seen more action in one owl’s life than twenty ordinary owl lifetimes. They carried the burden of history and the weight of a true hero—Ezylryb. It seemed absurd to Soren that he was wearing these claws. With each stroke, each wing beat, they seemed heavier and heavier. But he must go on; not only go on, he must lead. There was no turning back and yet going forward seemed so very, very hard.
    Agony! Sheer agony, Soren thought.

CHAPTER SIX
The Retreat of the Glauxian Brothers
    O tulissa was experiencing a different kind of agony from that which Soren felt. No one had ever mentioned to her that the Glauxian Brothers were bound in a vow of silence.
    Silence! Who ever heard of such a stupid thing? How can one have an intellectual conversation if one takes a vow of silence? This was the one-sided conversation that thundered