Guardians of Ga'Hoole 09 - The First Collier

and peered into the fire, trying not to read the flames. But his face was everywhere in those flames.
    “Don’t you want to know my name?” he asked.
    “No,” I muttered.
    “My name is Theo, and do you know what you are?” He did not wait for an answer. “You’re rude.”
    I had a feeling that I was not going to get rid of this young’un that fast. “So what do you want to learn, and why do you think you can?”
    “I want to learn the art of fire and of smeisshen.”
    “Smeisshen?”
    “Smeisshen—you know, striking, hitting hard ice.”
    The word was, I wagered, from a very old form of Krakish, the kind they spoke way up in one of the firths. They loved the old language in those firths. They kept words, polishing them as if they were precious stones.
    “Where are you from, young’un?”
    “Firth of Grundenspyrr, off the Firth of Fangs.”
    “Thought so,” I replied.
    “So now you are going to tell me that owls from a far firth won’t have the brains for this.”
    “I didn’t say that. But I might point out that it is not ice I have been smeisshening, as you say, but rock.”
    “It’s schmeiss huch ning —that is how you pronounce it. Cough a little where the word breaks and you’ll have it.”
    “Oh, so now you are a language expert.”
    “I never said such a thing. I just know how to speak old Krakish, that’s all.”
    “Pretty full of yourself, aren’t you?” As you can see, I could be fairly obnoxious.
    “I’m not full of myself. If I were I wouldn’t be here asking you to teach me. I would think I knew everything.”
    This took me aback. I blinked at him.
    “You know,” he said, stepping closer, “I had an uncle once. He died in the Siege of the Fangs—murdered by hagsfiends. He was a great teacher. He believed that knowledge was a sacred trust. He believed that knowledge, not necessarily knowledge of magic but knowledge of the natural world, was the one way we could overcome the hagsfiends.” He paused. I didn’t say anything. This was aninteresting young owl. There was no doubt about it. “My uncle said, ‘I teach because I was taught.’”
    I felt a quiver in my gizzard. “But nobody taught me this,” I replied, gesturing at the fire. I knew that sounded rather lame. The youngster agreed.
    “I expected a better answer from you,” Theo replied. There was not a trace of smugness in his voice. There was only disappointment. He looked at me through his aggrieved tawny yellow eyes. It was this expression that broke me.
    I sighed. “All right. I’ll take you on as an apprentice. But we’re going to have a few rules.”
    “Oh, yes! Yes! I’ll do anything you say, sir! Anything.” He lofted himself straight up and down at least three times, such was his excitement. “Anything. I’m very obedient.”
    “I’ll bet,” I muttered. “So, these are the rules. While you are here learning from me, it is strictly forbidden to leave the island.”
    He nodded.
    “Furthermore, your business is to learn about fire, nothing else. Understand?”
    “Well, what would you define as ‘else’?”
    I gaped and blinked at him in amazement. The impudence! The sheer gallgrot!
    “I mean you keep your beak out of anything that is not connected with fire.”
    “Like the egg?”
    Now I was truly stunned. “The egg? You know about the egg?”
    He looked down at his talons and scratched them nervously on the boulder. “Well, yes. I figured that was why you were digging down for the snow moss. It’s always used in schneddenfyrrs.”
    I was tempted to ask him how long he had been here but frankly did not want to give him the satisfaction of saying, “Oh, ten or twelve nights,” thus proving that I was too stupid to have noticed. I coughed slightly. “Err…yes. I am sitting for friends of mine who are unable to care for the egg because of the war. They are off fighting.”
    “Oh, that reminds me,” Theo said suddenly.
    “Reminds you of what?”
    “I don’t fight.” I blinked at him. “I am a gizzard resister. I don’t believe in war. In my gizzard, I believe there is always a better way. And I don’t believe in magic, either.”
    “Are you a Glauxian Brother?”
    “I would like to be. But they think I am not quite ready.”
    “And you didn’t make them take you anyway?” How come I got stuck with you? I wanted to scream.
    “In matters of faith, one cannot use force. It’s difficult to explain,” he said.
    “I can’t believe it!”
    “Believe what?” Theo