Guardians of Ga'Hoole 07 - The Hatchling

that had depressed him but the thought of a future living with the Tytonic Union of Pure Ones. That was when he began to think about the egg that held the new life that would be Nyroc. He actually began to dread the hatching out. And on the night of the eclipse when the egg did hatch out, he had experienced a deep feeling in his gizzard that he could only have described as sorrowful joy. It was said that owls born on such a night as this had upon them an enchantment that gave them unusual powers. Uglamore knew this little hatchling would have powers, but what would they bring him?
    So capture would be easy, Doc had said. But perhaps death in the Shredders would be easier for Nyroc. If he did survive, what did he face with his mum? He would be made to go through with the Special ceremony, which he himself had never questioned until now.
    Yes, thought Uglamore, I passed my Special by killing m dear cousin. So enchanted was I with the old High Tyto, Kludd’s predecessor, that I very soon got over his death. He had rationalized it to himself until he was certain he’d done the right thing. At the time, it hadn’t seemed to matter nearly as much ashis own ascendancy in the inspiring collection of Barn Owls that would one day rule the world. He had been young then, strong, a skillful fighter, and he was most of all pure, a pure Tyto alba, not one of the lesser breeds like a Masked or a Sooty. Now he wasn’t so sure. Now he had questions.
    “Does that answer your question about the spillways, Uglamore?” Nyra asked crisply.
    He was about to say No, General Mam, it does not. But he was not a young owl anymore. He was beyond his middle years and he had nowhere to go. He would be cast out of any civilized group of owls. So instead he replied, “Yes, General Mam, that certainly does.”
    “We will follow Doc Finebeak to the other side of the Shredders to see if Nyroc is…” It was seldom that Nyra hesitated in speaking. She began again. “To see what the outcome is.”
    Outcome, thought Uglamore. She means, will she find her son dead? And if he is alive, what then? Uglamore had not meant for this question to pop out. But it did. “General Mam, if Nyroc is alive, what shall be done then?”
    “He is a rebellious owl. He shall be disciplined. If he had exhibited this behavior in battle it would be considered treason and he would have to face the mostdire consequences. But he is young and he is rebellious. And I shall give him a second chance.”
    Some chance, thought Uglamore.
    Nyroc had managed to keep Phillip in his sight for a few seconds after entering the Shredders. But as he was tossed and spun by the wild winds, it felt as if both parts of his stomach had crashed into each other. He did not know which way was up or down. He was pitched and tumbled by the cutting winds of the torrent. He thought he saw several of his tail feathers whiz by him. Would there be any feathers left? Did he care? Did he care if he lived or died?
    Nyroc suddenly realized that he was tired, so very tired. Not just of being chased, but of living with his strange and frightening mother. If life as a Pure One was the only choice, would it be a relief to die in this shredding wind? That was Nyroc’s last thought in the Shredders. He dimly realized he had ceased to flap his wings and he gave himself up to the lashing currents of the hag winds. The roar of the Shredders grew fainter and fainter in his ear slits.

CHAPTER NINETEEN
It Hurts
    W hen Phillip tumbled out of the Shredders and was immediately captured he knew his own quest for truth had ended. The horrific meaning of the special treatment he had been granted since Nyroc’s hatching began to sizzle and pop in the Sooty’s gizzard like a sap tree bursting into flames: Who had been among the first owls to be brought in when the Sacred Orb, as Nyra had referred to her egg, hatched? Himself. Who had been appointed chief preener? Nyra, who had always regarded him with utter contempt, made him the companion for her dear hatchling. It all began to make a terrible, dreadful sense. He knew now that he had been set up as Nyroc’s best friend so that he might help Nyroc prove himself worthy to become an officer in the most elite unit of the Pure Ones.
    What happened? Nyroc wondered as he dragged himself to his feet. Every one of his hollow bones ached. Hestaggered forward. Then tried to spread his wings. They felt strange. “Where am I?” he wondered aloud.
    “With your mother!”
    He