Guardians of Ga'Hoole 09 - The First Collier

Should anything happen to me—” The writing broke off. Something must have interrupted him. I dimly remembered seeing something in the fire earlier in the evening—a flood of hagsfiends sweeping down off the ice fortress of Hrath’ghar ridge. Blood.
    I took the thin piece of hide and dropped it into the fire. I watched the flames. Yes, a battle was raging. It did not look good for the H’rathian troops. I yawned. I saw Joss look around the camp. It was littered with my yarped pellets. I was living in squalor. I blinked. Then I looked at Joss. “I know all this that is in the message.”
    “You do?” Joss said, shocked. “Then why have you not come?”
    “I don’t know,” I replied blandly.
    Fengo stepped close to me. “Return the ember to the volcano, Grank. It is not for you. Its magic is too strong. You are a good owl, perhaps a mage, but you are not powerful enough to bear exposure to the ember.”
    I blinked. “I don’t understand.”
    “It is too strong for you and it is too dangerous to chance it falling into the possession of a hagsfiend or an evil owl.”
    “Would it not be too strong for them, too?” I asked.
    “Yes, but they would use it. And it would magnify their evilness, their nachtmagen. But if by chance a good owl, a noble owl of great grace and great strength would find it, the ember would not be too strong, and he or she would use the magic for the good of all owlkind. You are good, dear friend, but you are not that owl.”
    “Then who am I?” I said in a frail voice, and looked around. For just then I seemed to realize I had somehow mislaid my very self.
    “You will find yourself when you put the ember back.”
    “Put it back?”
    “Fly back to the volcano, Grank. Drop the ember into the crater and let it lie buried until an owl is hatched who will use it well.”
    And so I did. I felt the power of the ember slip from me the moment I dropped it into that bubbling cauldron of lava. I felt my gizzard expand and realized that for many long days and nights it had been pinched and hard. I felt my self, my real self, seep back. My gizzard quickened. I was ready. The volcano had erupted. The flames scoured the night, turning the moon and the stars crimson. And in those flames I saw terrible things. Things that I had ignored too long. I knew that I must fly back to the N’yrthghar as quickly as possible.

CHAPTER SIX
When We Were Very Young
    I t was the season of the N’yrthnookah, which meant that the winds were on the beak. It would be a long trip back, a tough claw-flight. I would have to fly off the wind and claw against the easterly current to keep from being set too far west. The trees grew thickly in the Shadow Forest, so I flew low between them where I would gain some protection from the wind.
    I was flooded with memories of H’rath and Siv as I flew back to the N’yrthghar. The three of us had known one another since we were mere hatchlings skidding about on the glaciers, not yet able to fly. We were all of noble birth: H’rath a prince, son of the High King, Siv the daughter of a chieftain, and I myself a prince, though my father was not a High King. It was obvious from the start that H’rath was born to rule. I, however, was not. Nor did I have any desire to become a king or a chieftain. I was of a studious nature, and I realized that I could best serve owlkind not as a chieftain or a warrior but as an advisor. Isensed from the time that I had my first vision that this strange sight of mine would separate me from others, that it would be as much a burden as a gift.
    It did not take long before word of my visions got around. My parents had been proud that I had learned how to fly so quickly and, as all proud parents, they bragged a bit, talked about how I had seemed to see “sunspots with pictures” was how they put it. I soon felt other young owls in nearby ice hollows withdrawing from me. All except for H’rath and Siv. As soon as we learned how to fly we became inseparable, the three of us. I loved Siv from the start, but I could see that I was no match for H’rath. He was a big handsome Spotted Owl, always joking, but with a fine spirit and, yes, a natural talent for leadership.
    Still, I tried my best to keep my visions to myself and did not discuss them even with my two closest friends. Sometimes, however, I could not stay silent. And once my vision saved H’rath’s life.
    We were still quite young and had been gleeking about on the spring drafts that