Guardians of Ga'Hoole 07 - The Hatchling

Remember, I told you that the first lesson of hate is easy. You were told to hate your father’s killer, Soren. Easy, right? But the second lesson would be harder.”
    Then the flames suddenly raged in Nyroc’s brain. He felt his gizzard stir. “But Soren didn’t kill my father,” he blurted out. “It was the Great Gray. You told me lies. It was all lies.”
    “Who told him? Who told him?” Nyra screeched and flew at her lieutenants.
    “Nobody told me. I saw it in the flames,” Nyroc howled. “And I shall not kill Smutty—or Phillip, Mum. I shall not!”
    “You must,” she shreed. “You must prove yourself worthy of this Union. This Empire! You must kill someone close to you.”
    Another image filled Nyroc’s mind. He saw a hollow in a distant fir tree. He saw two young chicks, one not even ready to fly yet. He saw the older chick creep up behind the younger one and shove him out of the hollow with his talons. It was his father. It was his father’s Special ceremony. Then he saw a flutter of white, a white that rivaled the moon. It was his mother. You did it, Kludd. You did it. So young, but you did it. Come with us! It was his father’s Special ceremony many years ago. So he had proved his worth by trying to murder his only brother.
    Nyroc swiveled his head around to his mother and fixed her with the fiercest gaze he could muster. “Mum, I will not do this. No matter what.”
    “No matter what?” screeched Nyra. She spread her wings, lowered her head, and began to speak in a cold, deadly voice. “Not even if I kill you?”
    “Fly! Fly! Save yourself! I’m not worth it!” Phillip cried out.
    “He’s right, Nyroc,” his mum said. “The stinking little Sooty is not worth it.”
    “Everyone is worth something,” Nyroc replied. His own tone surprised him. His voice suddenly sounded very grown up.
    Nyra looked surprised. Uglamore began to speak. “General Mam, perhaps there might be a better way…”
    Nyra wheeled about. “Get out of here, all of you. I must speak to my son in private.”
    Uglamore spread his wings to take flight. Stryker, Doc Finebeak, and the other officers followed.
    When they had risen well overhead and began to dissolve into a cloud bank, Nyra turned to Nyroc.
    “What of your father? Don’t you love him?” she snapped.
    “I never even knew him.”
    “Oh, you will know him very well, my dear, if you do not complete your Special. The scroom of your father shall haunt you and hunt you wherever you go until the end of your days!”
    Nyroc felt himself wilf. He swung his head from his mum to Phillip and then back to his mum again. “No,” he said firmly.
    That simple word enraged Nyra more than anything else. She flew at her son. He tried to back off but her talon tore across his face. He felt a searing pain.
    “Fly, Nyroc, fly!” Phillip shreed. His voice was filled with agony.
    Then Nyra stopped and looked at her son, aghast. “What have I done? What have I done?”
    Nyroc looked down. Blood was dripping on his talons. In a dazed voice, suddenly sickeningly sweet, Nyra said, “Darling child, that was not the way it was supposed to be. Not your blood. Not yours.” Then her feathers fluffed up; her dark eyes turned wrathful. In less than a second she was flying full force at Phillip. Nyroc was in a yeep state, unable even to lift his wings. But it would have made no difference. It was too late. Nyra moved like lightning. Phillip lay dying at her talons.
    “What have you done?” Nyroc hopped over to Phillip, whose head was at an odd angle. His eyes were filmy and there was a deep gash in his chest. Gasping for every breath, he whispered hoarsely to Nyroc, “Fly, Nyroc, fly.”
    Nyra plunged her talons into Phillip’s chest and ripped out his heart.
    “I hate you!” Nyroc shreed at his mother.
    “No, you don’t, my dear. You’ll get over this.” Nyra was speaking rapidly in a breathy voice. “This is going to beour little secret. We’re going to pretend that you killed Dustytuft, not me.”
    He glared at his mother. For the first time he saw her shrink back a bit. He had to get out of there. He had to fly straightaway even though he was missing half his tail feathers and the wound on his face was still oozing blood. “It will be our secret, Nyroc.” She spoke with a desperation he’d never heard before. “You passed your Special ceremony. Isn’t that great? So we cheated a little. I know you would have done it, given a little more