Guardians of Ga'Hoole 06 - The Burning

fetching manner.
    “What’s your name?” he asked.
    “Otulissa,” she replied.
    “Otulissa,” the owl said reflectively. “A very traditional name.”
    Otulissa felt a tingle of joy in her gizzard. Here was an owl of her station, of her background. He recognized that Spotted Owl females were often called by the ancient and distinguished name of Otulissa.
    “And what is your name, if I may ask?”
    “Of course. I am Cleve of Firthmore.”
    “Cleve of Firthmore!” Otulissa gasped. “The Firthmore Passage in the Tridents?”
    The owl nodded in reply.
    Otulissa’s eyes were blinking madly as she flew. “From the royal hollow of Snarth?” Once more, the owl called Cleve nodded. “Then you are a prince. For that is where the clan of Krakor comes from.” And, thought Otulissa, the clan of Krakor is the oldest and most aristocratic clan in the land of the Great North Waters. It was, in fact, the clan for which the Krakish language of the Northern Kingdoms was named. This was a clan of words, of stories, of legends. They were writers and tellers of history, of literature. It was the clan of her beloved Strix Struma and her cherished Strix Emerilla, the renowned weathertrix of the last century whose books Otulissa had intellectually devoured.
    “What are you doing here at the retreat?” Otulissa asked. “Is it a custom for royalty to come here?”
    “Not exactly. I really came because…well, how to put it? Much of my study back in the Tridents has been military. And there hasn’t been a war for years now. The War of the Ice Claws was over long ago.”
    “Yes, but don’t you think military knowledge is still useful?” Otulissa whispered. A slightly wary tone had crept into her voice.
    “Not really,” Cleve replied casually, as if he might be commenting on the weather. “You see, I came here to study medicine. Quite frankly, I don’t believe in war—ever.”
    “You what?” Otulissa shrieked.
    “Please, dear.” A Snowy Owl had flown up. “This is a meditation flight. Some whispering perhaps, but shouting? Oh, no, we can’t have that,” the Snowy said gently and flew off.
    Just at that moment, Gylfie also experienced a shock, and Otulissa’s cry was like an exclamation point in the night, punctuating a most startling revelation: Ifghar! That is what the Short-eared Owl had just called the frail old Whiskered Screech! Impossible! Gylfie told herself. She caught an updraft so she could fly directly beneath them. Of course, there was mostly silence, but occasionally the Short-eared Owl found it necessary to redirect the Whiskered Screech’s flight path and, in whispered tones, she would nudge him back on course. “Now, now, old dear, stroke with that port wing. It’s getting stronger.” There was a low grumble. “No need for that, Ifghar. You can do it, dear. You can.”
    Gylfie blinked and felt her gizzard grow heavy. How could this be? Ezylryb’s turnfeather brother here?! This, indeed, was something to meditate on. Then came that shriek from Otulissa. And the next thing Gylfie knew, Otulissa was flying beside her.
    “It really frinks me off! I can’t believe it, and him coming from the royal hollow of Snarth in the Tridents. Shameful! Absolutely shameful.”
    “Sssh!” The Short-eared Owl flying attendance for Ifghar shushed her from above.
    Gylfie had no idea what Otulissa was beaking off about. But she and Otulissa definitely had to talk. Forget study hollow and discussions on fleckasia and disorders of the gizzard! Gylfie had to tell Otulissa about Ifghar. The only reason that she and Digger and Soren knew about Ifghar, the treacherous brother of Ezylryb, was because Octavia, Ezylryb’s nest-maid snake, had told them. She told them about Lil, the Whiskered Screech that both Ezylryb and his brother had fallen in love with. But Lil had preferred Ezylryb and had taken him as her mate. Both brothers served as commanders in the Glauxspeed artillery unit during the War of the Ice Claws. Ifghar was so incensed by Lil’s refusal and so jealous of Ezylryb that he became a turnfeather and betrayed not just his brother but the entire Kielian League to the enemy, the League of the Ice Talons. Lil and Ezylryb made a fierce combat team, and Ifghar swore to the commander of the Ice Talons that with his help they could defeat them. He then had planned to capture Lil for his own.
    Gylfie couldn’t wait to get back to the hollow to tell Otulissa. Ifghar here! Ezylryb’s treacherous brother.