Guardians of Ga'Hoole 06 - The Burning

crush on him. And one Cleve in this world is enough.”
    “Well, there is no way in hagsmire or glaumora or Glaux’s green forests that I am going to teach Skench or Spoorn how to fight with fire. It would break my gizzard. And that is final!”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
A Deadly Glitter
    G ylfie had returned to the cave stunned. Too stunned to think. Wolves, teeth, ground predators—everything a young owlet not able to fly would dread if it had fallen from a nest. Now here she was unable to fly and facing the prospect of being devoured by wolves. And what could an owl of Gylfie’s diminutive proportions offer a wolf? She wasn’t even a mouthful. Although she tried not to think too much about the size of a wolf’s mouth, or jaws, or teeth.
    Breaking through her frantic thoughts came the nearly hysterical chatter of the two guard owls. What in Glaux’s name are they carrying on about? she wondered.
    “Look! Look!” said one guard owl.
    “It’s coming this way. By my talons, it can’t be!” said the other.
    The owls’ voices were filled with awe. They were almost gasping for breath. Gylfie was still tethered but she could get partway down a corridor to the opening of thelair. She peered out. The day was clear. The sky flawless. Not a cloud in sight. But what was that thing of dazzling radiance flying toward the pirates’ lair?
    “It’s a…it’s a…” one of the guards was stuttering.
    “It’s a golden owl.”
    “It’s more than that, Vlink. It’s Glaux!”
    “Oh, Phlinx, we have been chosen! I just know it. We are the chosen owls. The Golden Glaux has come to visit us. You know they say that he only comes once in a century.”
    “What’s a century?”
    “I’m not sure but when he comes he will lead us to the basin of the golden sedge berries. We shall be his anointed ones.”
    “What’s anointed?”
    “I’m not sure. I think it means blessed, Phlinx. Yes, blessed, that’s what me mum told me.”
    “But we be pirates. Pirates ain’t ever blessed, are they? What’s the point of being a pirate if you be so good you git yourself blessed?”
    Gylfie wasn’t sure which was more astounding, the conversation between Vlink and Phlinx, which, even in their weird Krakish dialect she was understanding, or the gold-feathered thing that was slowly flying toward them like a great glittering orb with wings.
    As the bird began a banking turn to land, Gylfie saw the two owls crouch down with their beaks touching the tundra in a very un-owl-like posture of reverence. Owls don’t crouch. Owls don’t kneel, thought Gylfie. What in Glaux’s name is going on here? Then it dawned on her. They really do think this owl is Glaux! She nearly laughed out loud. Then she blinked and looked closer. The golden owl certainly wasn’t Glaux but it did look slightly familiar. Gylfie then had a sudden flash of recognition. Beneath all that gold was Ifghar’s attendant, Twilla! What in the world was going on? Had the Short-eared Owl come in search of Ifghar? And why had she done this to her feathers?
    Twilla looked at the two guards and blinked. She had not expected this. The Elf Owl, still tethered, had come out from the lair, and Twilla heard her mutter a few words in Hoolian. “They think you are G-L-A-U-X.” Gylfie spelled out the last word.
    Twilla blinked and nearly blurted out, “What?” but suppressed the impulse. This must be one of their peculiar beliefs all caught up in the silliness about gold. Well, if they think I am some sort of god, I’d better start behaving like one. Now, what would a god say?
    Then the little Elf Owl spoke in Hoolian again. “They think you have come to anoint them but they don’t know the meaning of the word ‘anoint.’”
    This time Twilla had to suppress a giggle. Gods don’t giggle. Shape up, you fool, she admonished herself. She had a sudden inspiration.
    “Welcome, my children,” she spoke now in Krakish.
    The two guards stole a look. The one called Vlink dared speak in a timid voice that was tinged with awe. “Why have you come, Golden One?”
    “To anoint you. You are my chosen ones,” Twilla said.
    “Chosen?” said Phlinx. “Chosen for what?”
    “Chosen to lead the pirates. I shall tell you where the golden sedge berries grow, and you shall go there and dip your beaks into the berries where the juices flow and come back with the stain of Glaux and be recognized as the true leaders.”
    Brilliant, thought Gylfie. Hadn’t she heard these two owls