Guardians of Ga'Hoole 09 - The First Collier

drift off and dream of Theo and of battle claws. One morning at dawn, I dreamed of flames and I swear that I saw those first battle claws, which Theo was wearing, stained with blood. Was it Theo’s blood? I woke up with a start. I was frightened. The wind had died down, and it was an exceptionally warm night. If I plucked more down from my own breast and tucked it in with some of the rabbit-ear moss that was abundant all over the tree, it would certainly keep the egg warm enough for a short time. I would just fly down and make a quick little fire. I simply had to. I was having very troubling thoughts about Theo. As annoying as that young’un could be, I had grown to love him as I would a son.
    I gathered some peels of birch bark, which the coals always grab on to quickly, and put in some dry, well-seasoned moss. This did not need to be one of those nearly bonking fires that Theo created for his smithing. Just asmall one, small but with articulate, well-shaped flames. I bent close as the first flames popped up, gasped, and drew back sharply. I blinked again and came closer. This could not be true!
    Theo and a ferocious Snowy Owl were circling each other warily. The Snowy was armed with an ice saber in one talon, a short ice dagger in the other, and his beak bristled with ice splinters. The two owls were circling over a headland that jutted into the Bitter Sea. And that Snowy was not just any Snowy. It was the warlord Elgobad, cousin of Lord Arrin, and now part of that deadly pact with the hagsfiends. I knew Lord Elgobad well. In our youth, we had spent summers with our families on the same firth. He was a skillful and accomplished fighter. He was powerful—and he was a cheat. He followed no knightly rules in combat.
    For there was a code of sorts. A code for noblemen and their squires and knights that defined honor on and off the battlefield. And in the flames, I saw Elgobad, true to his nature, breaking those rules. First of all, he was off the battlefield, as was Theo. He knew nothing about the battle claws, however. So, from his point of view, Theo was unarmed and Elgobad by contrast was armed quite literally to the beak. Theo himself had been staying far out of the range of engagement. He had also dipped hiswings in a manner to indicate that he was not going to engage or fight. Yet Elgobad kept pressing in closer. The images in this small fire were amazingly clear. Not only were there images but I could just barely make out some brief exchanges between the two.
    “Who are you and where are you going?” the Snowy Owl demanded. The sun was just setting and the fierceness of its glare on this white bird, spiky with ice weaponry, gave him a blinding radiance.
    “Why do you demand to know this? This is not a war zone.”
    “Everywhere is a war zone.”
    “According to the H’rathian code of honor, the Bitter Sea is a free-fly zone.”
    “H’rath and his code are dead. There are new rules now. New codes. What is your name?”
    Theo was silent for a long time. Glaux! I thought. Now is the time to speak, lad. Say something. You who are never at a loss for words.
    “What is yours?” Theo asked.
    “I am asking you. Not you me, young’un.”
    “If I tell you a name, how will you know it is my true name? I could tell you Glauclan or I could tell you Morfyr or I could say my name is Hegnyk—”
    As the flames popped up, I could see Theo still rattlingoff a dizzying number of names and flying faster and faster in circles, still out of the range for engagement. According to the H’rathian code, one who was not within range could not be considered an aggressor. It was absolutely forbidden to attack in a situation like this.
    “Would you stop talking and tell me your name and where you are going?” Elgobad demanded again.
    “But how would you know, I ask again, that I am not lying?”
    “Nobody lies to Lord Elgobad,” the Snowy screeched out.
    “Oh, Lord Elgobad, so that is your name. I cannot say that I am pleased to meet you.”
    Lord Elgobad was stunned. How had he, the scourge of the southern N’yrthghar, been tricked by this young’un into giving his name first? He started to wilf slightly, not from fear but from shame. I knew this could turn ugly in an instant. Lord Elgobad was a bully. He would have to seek vengeance on this young owl who had embarrassed him. Just at that moment, I saw something else in the flames. I felt my gizzard seize.
    This was an impossible position to be in. To be able to