Guardians of Ga'Hoole 08 - The Outcast

take a straight line into Beyond the Beyond. It would be a long trip. Not all the winds were favorable this time of year. He did not fly by day, for he wanted no encounters with mobbing crows. He had nearly been mobbed once when he and Phillip had fled the Pure Ones. He did not want that to happen again. He would try to avoid owls altogether since there had been sightings of Pure Ones in some places and rumors abounding in others. He knewthat at all costs he must avoid them and, as for other owls, he knew they would still treat him as an outcast.
    His new name had not really changed him, either inside or out. He knew he still must prove himself as Coryn. And perhaps part of that proving was to endure—for a time—being an outcast. He could not yet even hope to go to the Great Ga’Hoole Tree. But there was no denying that he desperately wanted to go there. He wanted to hear the great harp, the strings through which the blind nest-maid snakes wove themselves to make the music that the famous old Snowy, Madame Plonk, sang. He wanted to see the parliament where the most noble owls on Earth met. He wanted to see the magnificent great hollow where the owls feasted and danced. And most of all, he wanted to fly through the great library and read the wonderful books. Coryn thought about this as he flew. In his gizzard he knew that he had made the right decision but, in truth, he was flying away from all he yearned for.
    He had been traveling now for four nights, and the first sliver of the full-shine moon had been shaved off as the dwenking began. Slimmer and slimmer it would grow, and if these northerly winds strengthened by the time he reached Beyond the Beyond, it would most likely beno thicker than the thinnest filament of a down feather. But right now he was approaching the far edge of The Barrens and would soon be crossing the border into Silverveil.
    He looked down. The territory was familiar. When he had first fled from his mother he had flown over just this same corner. It was in the very spot now beneath him that he had been mistaken for his mother, Nyra, by a young Burrowing Owl. It was the first time he truly realized that he had been branded by the scar and the meaning it would have for him. The young Burrowing Owl had screeched in terror when she saw him. Her mother had come out and begun screeching as well. The two owls were hysterical with fear. It had been useless to explain to them that he was not Nyra. But now as he flew over he could hear, like an echo from that night months ago, owl voices filled with fear and panic.
    “You say it’s gone? Was it Nyra?” A searing cry came from the burrow.
    “But how could it be?”
    “It wasn’t Nyra. It was a male. But Mum, it was so scary! The owl said he would kill me!”
    “Kill you! Great Glaux, what has this world come to?”
    Coryn realized that what he thought was an echo of his past encounter was no such thing. This conversationwas happening now, underground in the depths of the Burrowing Owls’ burrow! Because of his acute hearing, Coryn was able to pick up much of the conversation. He cocked his head one way and then another in the same manner as when he was stalking very small prey. Something terrible had happened to the family and he knew it was the same family because right now the mother was crying, “Harry! Harry! What shall we do?”
    Harry had been the name he had heard the mother call before when she had first seen Coryn. Harry was her mate. But what was happening now? Shrieks and lamentations seemed to spill from the hole of the burrow. They were underground. They would not see him. So he decided to continue flying in tighter circles over the burrow. He scanned for a variety of sounds and honed in precisely on the source. Contracting the muscles of his facial disk, the words began to pour into his ear slits clearly, succinctly.
    This family was in trouble. An egg that was very close to hatching had been stolen by a Pure One. So they were here! Coryn listened more closely. He wanted to find out the identity of the owl who had done this.
    “It’s not your fault, Kalo,” the father was saying in a soothing voice. “There’s no way you could have fought them off.”
    Them? More than one? Who was it? Had Nyra gotten hireclaws?
    “We’re not the first family to be attacked,” the mother was sobbing. “It’s happening all over Silverveil. But I never thought they’d come this far into The Barrens. I mean, our burrows are hard to