Guardians of Ga'Hoole 07 - The Hatchling

scorch the sky
    Beyond the mountains that scrape the air?
    See the blackness that bleeds hot coals
    And makes the darkness shine with light?
    Where fires turn the moon bloodred,
    These same fires melt snow and ice
    And leave the land unlocked, undead.
    Beyond the next beyond!” Fengo’s howl the air did rend.
    The wolves howled in return, “Will this journey never end?”
    Yet end it did and in its end a new beginning now was found.
    And thus did Fengo and his wolves come to this land beyond beyond.
    Beneath the fiery cones they made their den.
    In rocks and caves of black mountains
    That glittered with shards of volcanic glass,
    Between the coal fields and fires they came to dwell.
    This was their heaven and not their hell.
    And with that fire monster they made amends.
    Yet in that place beyond beyond
    Many others met their ends.
    Otulissa read on. She had known about the time of the great ice sheets. It had caused a mass extinction among large animals, and it had taken thousands of years for life to regenerate itself. But smaller creatures had somehow managed to survive. Many of the most desperate of these sought their way, like the dire wolves, to Beyond the Beyond. It seemed that since history began desperate creatures have been drawn to Beyond the Beyond and made its inhospitable landscape their home. Even in the present day, it was known that a lot of hire claws lived there.
    The next canto was very poetic and one of Otulissa’s favorites. It went on to describe how Grank hid the Ember of Hoole to keep it safe. She loved the rousing lines that came next, telling of Grank’s rescue of the hatchling Hoole:

In the darkness of that same night,
    Another came in desperate flight
    To rescue the prince now called Hoole
    Sent to end the wars so cruel.

    Then came the last canto, the meaning of which was still being argued by scholars. Otulissa read slowly, carefully.

So bring him back with flames of gold.
    Bring him back with burning fire.
    For he reads what flames have told,
    And his will is Hoole’s desire.
    He shall not cease his endless flight.
    He shall fly on through days and nights.
    Though an outcast in despair,
    He has a gizzard that is so fair.
    He shall return at summer’s end,
    Coal in his beak, a shadow king no more,
    Tempered wise and brave for war.

    Otulissa stopped reading. How can this be? she wondered. She reread the last stanza. There had always been talk of missing cantos near the end of the Fire Cycle. It was felt that lines might have been lost. There were some scholars who insisted that the last stanza was a prophecy and that the missing materials would support this. Otulissa had always dismissed this as second-guessing. But when she read this last stanza yet again, it now seemed to be talking about another owl, not Hoole at all, as she had always thought. For he reads what flames have told, And his will is Hoole’s desire. It was as if Hoole was speaking of another owl. Was Hoole making a prophecy?
    Otulissa felt a shiver run through her own gizzard. The light in her hollow was dim despite the sun outside the opening that heralded a clear sunny morning. Goodness! She had read by candlelight all through the night and into the next morning. She had completely missed night flight. She was about to blow the candle out but stopped a moment to sleepily watch its flickering flame dancing on the wall of the hollow. She knew that there were some owls who were said to be fire readers. Was that what this poem in the Fire Cycle was about? Was Hoole foretelling the coming of a flame reader?
    Yes, a familiar voice whispered in her head.
    Otulissa blinked. Strix Struma?
    The candlelight cast a large shadow that stretched high against the wall of her hollow. As she looked up, the shadow seemed to be gathering together into a familiar shape. I never believed in scrooms, she heard her own voice speaking but only in her own head. And then there was the soft churring. It was Strix Struma!
    I know, you were never much one for fancies of the imagination, were you, dear?
    For once in her life, Otulissa simply did not know what to say. So she remained quiet. But then a disturbing thought came into her mind and it was almost as if the scroom read it.
    No, I am not unsettled about my life. My business on earth is finished, the scroom intoned in Otulissa’s head. But there is other business, important business, and it must be settled.
    What business is that?
    I’m not sure, replied Strix Struma.
    Not sure? But