Guardians of Ga'Hoole 06 - The Burning

TWENTY-THREE
The Tunnel in the Smoke
    L ike ribbons in the night, the lightning streaked behind the first rank of owls as the weather followed them in. The wolf moon—full, and bright enough for wolves to hunt by—was gnawed by ragged clouds. The colliers flew in that first rank, carrying the coals to ignite the fires. Soren and Martin dropped the fiery embers on the first set of brush that had been brought to the canyon in a covert operation a few nights before. Although once again the Guardians did not have the number of soldiers to compare with those of the Pure Ones, this time they had three invaluable advantages: surprise, weather, and exquisite planning. Already three covert operations had weakened or would weaken the enemy. The Devil’s Triangles had been rendered powerless. The deception of the owlipoppen had distracted the garrison troops. Finally, the brush piles that would be used to ignite their combat branches had been put in place.
    On the point of one of the thousands of red needlesthat pricked the night, illuminated by the flashes of lightning, the commander for the invasion perched. From his vantage point, Ezylryb could observe the entire canyon. Through a series of prearranged wing-code signals, in which he would flap and fold his wings in odd motions, he would direct this battle. Smaller owls, mostly Elfs and Pygmies, had been trained to interpret these signals and fly at what they called streak speed to relay them to unit commanders. In the history of the owl universe there had never been an undertaking as difficult, as complicated as this one. But Ezylryb silently pledged, We shall do it. We must do it.
    After the ignition of the brush piles, the first wave of the Bonk Brigade, led by Bubo, with Soren second in command, headed directly for the heart of St. Aggie’s—the library where the flecks were stored. Their mission was very specific: Penetrate the library and set cold coals in each one of the niches. It was in that direction that Soren flew with Skench, his old nemesis, next to him. There had been no choice. Skench, the Great Horned Owl and former Ablah General of St. Aggie’s, knew all the shortcuts into the library.
    “This way,” the Great Horned Owl said as she waggled her port wing.
    The old fool doesn’t even know port from starboard, Sorenmuttered softly. How had such stupidity ever succeeded in building this evil place, he wondered. Ruby and Martin were also flying in this unit. As soon as they finished at the library, they were to fly back to a reignition brush pile as fast as they could. At this point, the Bonk Brigade would split. Bubo and the rest of the brigade would ignite their fire weapons. Soren, Ruby, and Martin, along with Twilight, would arm themselves with the few ice weapons they had brought back from the Northern Kingdoms and join the battle, which by that time would be raging. But even as it raged, the deadly supply of flecks would be growing weaker and weaker until, Glaux willing, all owls would live in a fleck-free world forever and a day. “Forever and a Day” was the code name of the invasion. Ezylryb had named it and the name seemed both hopeful and bold. It must work, thought Soren. It just must.
    Meanwhile, the Sooty Owl Dustytuft had recovered himself a second before going into a yeep splat on the canyon floor. Weakly climbing out of his yeepness, he as-cended and tried to focus on what he must do. He must fly as quickly as possible to the main garrison of the Great Horns and speak to Stryker. He must tell him exactly what he had seen. He was working on his speech as he flew. No one ever listened to Sooties, but they would this time. He would be precise and clear. Here is what I am going to say, hethought. I was flying patrol on the eastern section of the Needles when I first spotted the piles of brush…
    He must have been flying faster than he thought. He saw Stryker on a ridge midway between the Beak of Glaux and the Great Horns shaking a talon at Uglamore. He forgot his speech entirely and, even before he had landed, he started screaming in the high piercing whistle of Sooties. “They’re coming! They’re coming! The invasion is here! They came over the Needles! The invasion is here!”
    There was a sudden wind shift and Dustytuft’s words seemed to slam back into his beak. But he screamed again even louder this time, and all the owls of the garrison heard him and seemed to suddenly wilf. Finally, he thought. Finally, someone has listened