Guardians of Ga'Hoole 07 - The Hatchling

the Pure Ones—and especially his mother—to think about all he had seen. To find out if the flames had lied. He could not go alone, however, for the places he really needed to go to seek out the truth were the other owl kingdoms. Dustytuft was older, more experienced. Dustytuft knew the lay of theland and the way out of the canyonlands to other places. He knew how to navigate through all kinds of weather. Nyroc suddenly realized a new truth: Dustytuft’s skills had been frightfully wasted by the Pure Ones, simply because he was not considered pure enough. He had been given the lowliest tasks and yet he had come here with plenty of experience—he had, after all, escaped a forest fire, navigated through the smoke and poisoned air with his da, and yet he had been treated like some ignorant, useless owl unfit for anything. Sheer stupidity on the part of the Pure Ones. Well, he would not be so stupid. He would take Dustytuft… No, Nyroc thought, I will never call him Dustytuft again. He is Phillip. Together Phillip and I will find the truth.
    He had to tell Phillip, and they must leave right now even though the sun was over the horizon. They must risk crows. They must risk the tangled maze of the canyonlands. They must risk his mum’s vengeance.
    Just before he stepped onto the ledge to fly off, he looked back at his mum in the morning shadows of the stone hollow. She was a beautiful owl, the most beautiful he had ever seen, despite the scar that ran like a fine line across her face. I am leaving, Nyroc thought, all that I have ever known, and all that I have ever believed in. I am leaving my rock hollow and my bedding, fluffed with the down from my mother’s own breast. I am leaving this cliff’s cool shade in the summer, this cliff’s ledges and overhangs and its shelter against the bite of winter’s wind. I am leaving the colors that stream through the rocks that made me think of sunsets. I am leaving the fat rats that my mum is so good at catching, and the foxes that I would never dare to go after but that taste so good. I am leaving my mum, the hunter. I am leaving my mum, the murderer.
    And with that last thought, Nyroc spread his wings and stepped into the air.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Negotiating with Crows
    W ake up!” Nyroc shook the Sooty who slept on a stone perch on the far side of the cliff, in one of the less desirable hollows that faced the prevailing wind. Nyroc leaned in close to his friend’s ear slit. “Phillip!” he whispered.
    “What? What?” the Sooty Owl was immediately awake. “Oh, hi, Nyroc.” He blinked again. “Nyroc, it’s full morning. What are you doing here? You should be asleep back in your hollow.”
    “No. We have to get out, Phillip, right now. I’ll explain later.”
    “What?”
    “I told you. I can’t explain now.” There was no way that he could explain to Phillip right now what he had seen in the fire. He knew he had to be away, a long way away from his mum. He had to think about things, and he had to ask Phillip a lot of questions that the Sooty might not want to answer while surrounded by Pure Ones. “Just think of thisas a quest, Phillip.” Nyroc paused. “A quest for truth,” he said solemnly. “I need your help.”
    Phillip blinked in astonishment. It was one thing waiting attendance on the heir of the Tytonic Union in various ceremonies. But it was quite another being asked to join him as an equal, it seemed, in a quest—a noble quest for truth. Yes, indeed, it sounded quite noble to him.
    “But how will we get out of here? There are crows in the daylight.”
    “We have no choice,” Nyroc replied.
    “During the last great battle against Ga’Hoole, during The Burning, I was posted on the far side of the canyonlands. I know that territory. If we fly out of the Great Horns it will be too easy for them to follow us. Besides, there are always lookouts there. But not on the far side of the canyonlands. But, Nyroc, what is this truth you are in search of and where do you think we should go in search of it?”
    Nyroc ignored the question of what truth and stuck to the where of it.
    “I am not sure. Maybe The Barrens, maybe the forest kingdom of Ambala.” Nyroc then took a deep breath. “Maybe the Great Ga’Hoole Tree.” Nyroc amazed himself. He had actually said the words “Great Ga’Hoole Tree” out loud.
    Phillip was stunned. “The great tree!” he exclaimed. Insane! he thought. But he tried not to betray just how crazy he thought this notion