Guardians of Ga'Hoole 06 - The Burning

reconciliation with my dear brother, Lyze, or Ezylryb, as I understand he is now called. It is time to letbygones be bygones. I hear of terrible things happening in the Southern Kingdoms. I hear that these owls who call themselves the Pure Ones threaten the great tree. And we all know that the great tree with its noble owls, the Guardians of Ga’Hoole, have attained the highest level of civilization in the entire bird kingdom. I, with my contacts in the League of the Ice Talons with whom I still enjoy enormous friendships and good will…”
    Oh, bless my gizzard! What a bunch of racdrops, Twilla thought. That horrible bird was turned out by the League of the Ice Talons. But does the Elf Owl know this?
    Ifghar continued. “Think how stupendous it would be if I could bring an entire division from the Ice Talons League to fight for my dear brother. But, of course, it would be most helpful to me to know what they might need. What do the Guardian forces consist of? When do they plan to strike against these Pure Ones? I cannot convince the Ice Talons to join us if they do not know what they would be joining. You do understand, don’t you?”
    Gylfie was trying to think fast. The Ice Talons had been the enemy of the Kielian League. Would Ezylryb really welcome them? He would not settle for hireclaws, after all. Why would he take up with those owls who had once been his enemy? And his brother had been a turnfeather once. Why would it not happen again? All these questions ran through Gylfie’s mind, andat the same time her gizzard was in such a tizzy she couldn’t even think straight. They claimed they wanted to know the lay of the land—the lay of the canyonlands more precisely which was now held by the Pure Ones. And then there was a lot of information they wanted to know about winds. These owls of the Northern Kingdoms had never traveled south before. They were used to katabatic winds but not accustomed to the wild Hoolspyrrs, the very deceptive and tumultuous winds of the Hoolemere sea. But then it dawned on Gylfie why under no circumstances should she give them one jot of information: Whatever they found out from her they would take directly to the Pure Ones. And that information would allow the Pure Ones to attack first, before Ga’Hoole could get any kind of invasion under way. Gylfie wondered if she would have the courage and the strength to resist them. She had heard of torture. Would she have the courage to keep her beak shut as her entrails were being torn out by wolves?
    Gylfie was not the only owl trying to think fast. Twilla was desperately attempting to come up with a plan to rescue the little Elf Owl. There were seven owls who had come out from the rocky den. Two seemed to be guards for Gylfie. Then there was Ifghar—and Gragg—and five other owls, and Glaux only knew if there were more in theden. She doubted it, however, as this was a prime time for tundra owls to hunt. She blinked again. It looked as if they were preparing for flight. Several of them were spreading their wings and lofting up to a takeoff perch on top of one of the higher boulders to catch a good launching wind. But, yes, the two she had suspected of being the guards were marching the little prisoner back into the lair. Twilla crouched behind the shrub. Now was a dangerous time. Once these owls were airborne they could spot her. Odd to think that an unpainted owl in this terrain would stand out more than a painted one. That’s it! I have to paint myself. Not only do I have to paint myself, I have to gild myself in the bright gold dyes of the golden sedge berries. And I know exactly where to find them. Twilla had once worked in the library under the direction of the master gilder.
    As soon as the pirate owls departed, and the coast was clear, Twilla flew off in the opposite direction. This would not take her long. She knew exactly where the golden sedge berries grew. It was a bit tricky, for there were dozens upon dozen of kinds of sedges that grew on the tundra, but only those that grew in what the brothers called a golden triangle yielded the golden berries. For some reason, wolves had a natural instinct for where these berries grew. But most owls did not. Finding the berries did require a knowledge of geology and botany, not tomention the proper method for extracting the juice, which had to be pressed between pads of the reindeer moss ever so carefully. But Twilla would do it! She knew that Gylfie was an owl of strong gizzard and