Guardians of Ga'Hoole 08 - The Outcast

MacDuncan, the chieftain, had roused himself from the pile he slept in with his mate and their pups.
    For several days now, Coryn had been traveling with the clan, for they had offered him sanctuary. And he was learning much from them. The wolves, like owls, preferred for the most part to travel and hunt at night and they often slept during the day. The caves they found were large, and Hamish and Coryn usually settled in their own little cranny toward the back because Hamish always stayed on the fringes of the clan. It was a useful arrangement. It allowed the two of them to talk privately.
    The clan was as strategic about their travel formation as they were about their hunting. The traveling configuration was called the byrrgis. And the shape of this byrrgis varied according to weather conditions. The clan would string out if the wind was down and begin their trek with their tails slightly raised, their ruffs swept back. The females were faster than the males, so they were often inthe front. But if the snow was thick on the ground, the males, who weighed more, would be in the lead to break the track. They would also be in the lead if there was a stiff headwind. In this way they could protect the fast runners from the wind, so that if there were caribou to be hunted, these females could put on a burst of speed unequaled by the males. The strategy of protecting the females and saving their energies for when it really counted was ingenious, Coryn thought.
    He had seen this happen time and again. He was intrigued by the whole notion of the byrrgis and often wondered if it could in some way be used by owls.
    He had learned a lot so far, but had he learned what he needed to teach a future king? And he had yet to see the Sacred Volcanoes. There was one subject that Hamish seemed reluctant to discuss: his role as gnaw wolf. Coryn realized that he, too, had been unwilling to discuss certain things. He had told Hamish how he felt it was his mission to come to the Beyond so that he could learn many things and become the teacher for young Coryn. But there was much he had left out. For example, he had neglected to tell Hamish that he had fire sight. He had betrayed no interest in going anywhere near the volcanoes. It would have been easy to fly high over them and look down into their fiery mouths. Why had he held back?Perhaps he was frightened of what he might see. He was not even tempted to try his luck at being a collier and collect live coals from the streaming river of embers that poured from the volcanoes. And here he had thought he was going to be following in the footsteps of Grank, the first collier!
    They had been steadily moving west, toward the ring of Sacred Volcanoes. Coryn was not sure why the volcanoes were considered sacred, but he did know that there were many gnaw wolves there. So he thought he might ask Hamish about the region. When they had settled down after their long trek, he noticed Hamish diligently gnawing on a caribou bone. He felt that this was the perfect opportunity.
    “Hamish, are you practicing gnawing because we are going to this place?”
    Hamish grunted a response, which Coryn took to mean yes but he didn’t want to talk about it. Still Coryn persisted. “Hamish, can I look at the bone you are gnawing?”
    “Sure, take a look.” The wolf tossed it in his direction.
    “Hamish, are you angry with me or something?”
    Hamish sighed. “No, not you. I’m angry with myself.”
    “Why?”
    “I’m not any good at this.”
    “At bone gnawing?”
    “It’s complicated to explain. Gnaw wolves lead strange lives. You see how I am not accepted, even scorned by my clan?”
    Coryn nodded.
    “Gnaw wolves are felt to have powers. We gnaw the bones with designs that tell stories of our history here. The gnaw wolves then pile these bones into huge mounds, or cairns, and these cairns—along with the gnaw wolves of our clan—guard the Sacred Volcanoes.”
    “Why do the volcanoes need to be guarded?” Coryn asked. But even as he asked, he felt an awful twinge in his gizzard.
    “You really don’t know, Coryn?” Hamish looked up, his green eyes seeming to bore right into Coryn’s gizzard.
    “No.” Coryn’s voice shook. “No, I really…” His voice dwindled off. Don’t say it. Don’t say it! He shut his eyes tight as if he could keep out the truth.
    “They guard the Ember of Hoole,” Hamish said in a low voice thick with the MacBurr.
    There. It was out! thought Coryn. Why do I keep