Guardians of Ga'Hoole 11 - To Be a King

anywhere until they were ready. But they were less than two moon cycles away from Short Light. Still, it would be reckless to go into the Desert of Kuneer and hunt down hagsfiends now. Before passing out of Ambala into the desert, they hadchecked a dead drop. There had been a coded message from Grank asking about his progress and reporting that the rumor of an all-hagsfiend division led by Ullryk was true, though there had been no confirmation from either Joss or Theo that this division was the one holding the Ice Palace. All of this ran through Hoole’s mind now. His gizzard was in a fever, but Short Light or no, he would not act rashly. He still needed more information.
    “We need to turn back. I need to see Rupert again and have him build me a fire. I need some good flames to read.”
    And so they returned that very evening to Ambala.
    “Back so soon?” Rupert looked up from his forge. “Don’t tell me, more hagsfiends?”
    Hoole nodded. “We think so. Rupert, I have a favor to ask.”
    “Anything at all,” Rupert replied.
    “I need your fire, Rupert.”
    Rupert looked perplexed. “Wanna try your hand at a bit of smithing, do you? Bet you’re a natural.”
    “Well, no actually, Rupert—I have a certain gift for reading the flames.” He looked now very seriously at Rupert. “It is a talent, Rupert. It is not magic. It is the same as when some owls are born with more sensitive gizzardsand seem to sense things before they happen. That is the way it is with me and flames. Might I use your fire?”
    Rupert stepped away. “It is all yours, Hoole.”
    “And one more thing, might you give that rock on top of the vent a shove? I would like the fire to get some more air and build up the flames a bit.”
    Within a very few minutes, great towering flames were leaping from the crack in the boulder. Hoole hovered in front of them. It was several minutes before he found the gizzard of the flames. He did not know precisely what he was looking for. One could not come to a fire with preconceived notions and ideas and demand that the flames answer specific questions. That was not how it worked. He had to empty his mind and let the antic flickerings sort themselves into an image. And now in the gizzard of the fire, in that curved yellow plane, was a pinprick of color. Yes! A familiar green was seeping into the yellow. Where had he seen it before? The ember of Hoole had some green in it, but that was not it. And then it burst upon him. It’s the green in the eyes of dire wolves! The eyes of dire wolves burned like green fire. A certainty glimmered, then grew in Hoole’s gizzard: The green of the wolves’ eyes bore some trace of magen. If only he could get themto focus the powerful green of their eyes. Yes…yes! That’s what we need for an attack on hagsfiends — wolves! The thought had crossed his mind before, but in truth he hadn’t had a clue as to how he would have used the wolves back then. But now he thought he knew. Wolves had cunning strategies and uncanny instincts for what an enemy was about to do. Their unmatched abilities to communicate in the thick of action with nary a sound or detectable signal would be invaluable. But to whom should he go with this plan? Fengo? No. Hordweard. Or as she now called herself, Namara. Yes, Namara MacNamara the brave wolf. The wolf he had believed in when every other wolf and owl thought her a traitor. I must find Namara, Hoole thought. I must run again with the wolves. I must run with Namara!

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
In Search of a Feather
Yonot fyngrot velink velink,
    inhale the vapor and the stink.
    Transform this mess of cursed stew
and make it into haggish brew.
    Snick, snick the gizzard is nigh on gone
and thus a new monster is spawned.
    Gimlich gimloc machten ma,
    this is the hagsfiends’ nachtga’th.
    T he smee chant swirled in Kreeth’s head as she flew out of the Ice Narrows. She must find a feather from the family of Emerilla. The most likely choice would be Emerilla’s father, who had been killed in a battle over the Ice Dagger. She must find the hagsfiend who went off with his head. There was a covey of hagsfiends that lived near the Ice Talons, and one in particular by the name of Penryck interested her. He was a skillful fighter. She had heard that he had thrown in his lot with Lord Arrin. ButLord Arrin was not faring well these days and Penryck was not one to fly about with losers. She turned east and flew up a twisting channel that penetrated deep into