Guardians of Ga'Hoole 09 - The First Collier

on the lemmings’ stupidity and her knowledge of the range. She knew that not far in from the firthkin, on the edges of the Hrath’ghar glacier, there was a colony that had started four years earlier and was about to burst from overcrowding. “With seven litters a year and eleven babies a litter, there must be squillions of them, milady,” Myrrthe had told Siv. So off she flew one moonlit windless night when the water in the firthkin was so still that nary a ripple wrinkled its surface. Myrrthe knew lemmings in any season. And Siv, who had flown with her on many past expeditions, knew that she would look first for the puckering up of the land into the ridges and depressions created by the seasonal thawings and freezings. These ridges became the travel routes for the migrating lemmings. Myrrthe would fly over these ridges and, as she told Siv, “Bring back a nice juicy little fellow for my queen.”
    Siv waited.
    As dawn melted into morning the next day, there was no sign of the faithful old Snowy. But Siv did not begin to worry until that evening at tween time, those seconds between the last drop of the daylight and the first tinge of the lavender twilight. Siv had not long to wait, for these were among the very shortest days and longest nights of the year. As Siv watched the lavender deepen to purple and then the purple turn to black, she felt her gizzard begin to crumble. Something must have happened, for surely Myrrthe would not let her wait this long with no food. And not even Svenka was around. Oh, Glaux, Siv thought. This cannot be happening. My mate has been killed, my egg taken, and now my dearest and most faithful friend is gone.
    Siv knew that Myrrthe was much more than her nursemaid and servant. With her dear Myrrthe gone, Siv thought she would starve to death not from lack of food but from lack of those she loved. A wing could mend, but could a broken heart and gizzard ever heal?
    Two days later, there was still no sign of Myrrthe, and Siv began to seriously doubt that she herself would survive. She could not yet fly. She had no food. But oddly, she felt no hunger—except in her heart, for even Svenka had left. She was trying to imagine where the polar bear had gone when, suddenly, the immense head pokedthrough the water just as the sun was beginning to rise. The moment Siv saw her dark lusterless eyes she knew something terrible had happened.
    “Your cubs? You gave birth and they died? You lost them?”
    “No.” Svenka shook her head. Siv opened her beak but not a sound came out. The words would not form. “She’s gone, Siv,” Svenka said, her voice breaking.
    “You mean—dead?” Siv asked hoarsely. Svenka nodded. “But how can you be sure?” The bear put a huge paw on the berg and ever so gently placed in front of Siv a snowy white feather from the coverts of Myrrthe’s wing. Siv blinked. “She’s molted. I’m sure. Myrrthe always molts at odd times.”
    “No, Siv. I found her.”
    Siv shook her head trying to understand all this. “What do you mean?” She blinked rapidly.
    “She was torn apart.”
    Siv blinked again. The confusion that swam in her eyes vanished. “Hagsfiends! Hagsfiends are the only ones who kill that way.” Although Siv had been wilfing seconds before, she now seemed to swell up in the classic threat display known as thronkenspeer. “Tell me. Tell me everything. Spare me nothing. I must honor her death as I didthat of my beloved mate. She was no mere servant. She died for me, didn’t she?”
    “Most likely. I think I arrived shortly after it had happened.”
    “How did you know to go looking?”
    “On the night she left, just before dawn I got a craving—as many expectant polar bear mothers do—for a bit of anchovy. I knew that the best anchovies this time of year swim near the fringe ice of the Hrath’ghar glacier. So I went.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Svenka Tells a Tale of Death
    “ I was gorging, I admit, on some of the best anchovies that ever swam in the Great North Waters. It disgusts me now when I think of it.”
    “It shouldn’t,” Siv interrupted. “You were nourishing your unborn. What could be more noble?”
    “Well, as I rolled over in the water to digest and pat my stomach with the babes inside, I was surprised to see a ragged dark patch appear overhead. At first, I thought it was a weather front coming in. But then tattered shadows began to skim across the still waters. Remember how windless it was on the night she left?” Siv nodded.