Guardians of Ga'Hoole 07 - The Hatchling

and began flying toward a nearby rock ledge. He set the dead rat down on the ledge. The crows hovered hungrily nearby.
    “What are you doing, Nyroc?” Phillip asked in a quivering voice.
    “We’re going to get out of this. Just listen, Phillip.”
    I’m all ear slits, the Sooty thought, and watched in amazement.
    Nyroc seemed to grow bigger as he faced the crowswith a classic thronkenspeer, or threat display, his plumage ruffled and raised, swelling himself to almost twice his normal size. “This rat is a lot tastier than we are with our hollow bones and feathers. This is red meat! Enough for all of you,” Nyroc yelled at the crows. He lowered his head and spread his wings, tipping them slightly forward so that the upper surfaces faced the crows. He swung his head from side to side and between his words he hissed and clacked his beak.
    This is absolutely brilliant, thought Phillip. Crows were not very good hunters. They were just good bullies. Usually, they had to settle for the leftovers from another predator’s kill. Rarely did they taste fresh meat with the blood still running out of it. Then Phillip saw Nyroc begin a gesture of the threat display that only Barn Owls make. As he began the next part of the speech, Nyroc bowed deeply—it would never be mistaken for a bow of servitude or respect—and began shaking his head rapidly as he spoke.
    “This rat is yours if you give us free passage,” Nyroc said.
    The lead crow looked at the young Barn Owl. Nyroc was not sure what the crow was thinking. Was he imagining that next to this fat rat, he and Phillip would make a pretty miserable meal? The crows settled on a ledge across from the one where he and Phillip perched.
    “The blood’s still running out of this animal. It’s not getting any tastier. Better make up your mind.” A few more seconds passed and then the crows approached the rat.
    “Not so fast!” Nyroc shreed. Glaux, he thought, I sound like a full-grown owl. Even Phillip blinked at him. “Not one bite until you send one of your mob off to tell the other crows that we get to fly free through daylight.”
    Smart! thought Phillip. How did this young owl, barely beyond being a hatchling, figure all this out?
    Nyroc felt a tremor pass through his gizzard. It’s working! It’s working!
    Yes, it worked. But crows were not the only problem for Nyroc and Phillip.
    As the sun began to set, the most deadly danger of all was just starting to awaken.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The Chase Begins
    N yra had just woken up in the stone nest. She blinked several times as she looked toward the pile of down and lichen where Nyroc usually slept. “Most unusual,” she murmured. “Now where could he have gone?” Maybe out to fetch a mouse for tweener, she thought. That would be nice.
    Every day of Nyroc’s life, Nyra had gone out for the tweener mouse or rat. About time he started doing a little of the work around the nest. As a matter of fact, that was one of the things she despised most about being a mum. You always had to be feeding them, doing all the work. It was definitely a two-owl job. And here she was a poor widow. She looked down at her breast, which was nearly plucked bare. What a sight she was! “Oh, Kludd,” she sighed.
    She went out and perched on the edge of the hollow. Stryker, one of her best lieutenants, flew by. “So tonight’s the big night,” he said in passing.
    “Yes, yes, the Special ceremony for Nyroc. And my fine young lad I do believe went to hunt tweener for me.”
    “Good boy—a plummel off his old man, I’d say.” But almost as soon as he said it, Stryker knew he had made a mistake.
    “I would say the old lady had something to do with it!” Nyra snapped back.
    “Oh, yes, Mam. Yes, Mam.” Stryker had begun to loop back in his flight to apologize.
    “And kindly call me General. General Mam, if you must. But General. Do remember, Stryker.”
    “I shall, General. General Mam.”
    “Excellent!” Nyra nodded, and Stryker flew off.
    Blyrric, a sergeant missing one eye, alighted on a ledge between Nyra’s hollow and that of her first lieutenant, Uglamore. “Anyone see Dustytuft?”
    Nyra felt a slight nausea stir in her gizzard. Dustytuft’s not around? Nor Nyroc? “You checked out the hollow where the Sooty Owls roost?” she asked.
    “Yes, Mam—I mean, General Mam,” Blyrric replied, for he had arrived just on the heels of the reprimand Nyra had given to Stryker.
    Uglamore turned to her. “You said that Nyroc was