Guardians of Ga'Hoole 11 - To Be a King

her. Don’t yarp, don’t yarp. It must be that thing they call a gizzard. Emotions don’t just get in the way, she thought. They make you sick.
    “Are you all right, dear? You look a bit shaky.”
    “Fine, Mum. Fine.”
    “Just your gizzard. I know mine is in a wondrous twitch.” Strix Strumajen’s eyes began to leak tears again.
    This is ridiculous, Lutta thought. She saw what Kreeth meant. Her own “gizzard” began to calm down a bit, and she was feeling slightly less nauseated.
    “We sent so many out to look for you. Where were you, and how did you ever find us?” Grank asked.
    “Oh, forgive me.” Strix Strumajen turned to her daughter. “I have not even introduced you to our dear Grank. He is the chief counsel to King Hoole.”
    “Oh, yes, so pleased to meet you,” Lutta said.
    “He is regent in Hoole’s absence,” Strix Strumajen explained.
    “Hoole isn’t here?” Lutta tried to cover her surprise. If he wasn’t in the great tree, it probably meant that the ember was not there, either. She had to be careful. “Where is he?”
    “Out looking for you, my dear—and on other business as well,” Strix Strumajen replied.
    Better not appear too interested in this “other business.” “I’m honored that a king should be looking for me.” That must have been the appropriate answer because Strix Strumajen made a soft churring noise. “Don’t be so modest, my dear. Your reputation as a close fighter and your courage in battle are well known.” She sighed and thought, If only my mate were alive and could see this magnificent daughter safe again. There was indeed a stronger resemblance between her daughter and her dear mate, Hurthwel, than she had remembered. She shut her eyes briefly as if to stanch the memory and the sorrow.
    Lutta had learned her lessons well. “Don’t think of dear Da now, Mum. We are together.”
    “Yes, Emerilla, and it seems like a miracle. They said you had vanished over the Ice Fangs. What happened?”
    Lutta was ready with her story. “It was almost like vanishing. Although there was no blood, I did suffer a terrible blow to my head and began to fall unconscious. And you’re right, it was a miracle of sorts. I plummeted right onto the furry belly of a polar bear. Svin was his name, and I am forever grateful to him. He saved my life. Not only that—he tucked me away in his ice cave and tended me, bringing me fish. He even grabbed me a lemming once.”
    Curious, thought Grank. He had never heard of a polar bear going after a lemming, especially a polar bear of the Ice Fangs. And this region was not known for lemming communities.
    “Believe me, Mum, I have had enough fish to last me a lifetime.”
    “Well, come with me, dear. We’ll go to the dining hollow and you can have your fill of vole and some awfully good meadow mice.”
    After having supped, Strix Strumajen led her daughter to the hollow they would share. She had hoped that her daughter might be a bit more forthcoming as to how she had heard that her mother was here at the great tree and what she had been doing in these long moon cycles since she had been struck down in the Ice Fangs. Had her recovery taken all this time? But Emerilla was chary with her information and seemed more interested in the young king and the ember.
    “You’ve heard about the ember, then?” Strix Strumajen asked.
    “Oh yes, Mum. It’s the talk of the Northern Kingdoms.”
    “But you were mostly with this polar bear, weren’t you?”
    “Yes, but Svin got out and about. He brought me news. But tell me, what is the young king like?”
    “Oh, quite handsome. Very quick-witted. He’s…” She paused. She had told Emerilla that Hoole was out looking for her, but she had not told her the other part of his mission, which was even more important: to set up a system of slipgizzles in the S’yrthghar. For some reason, she hesitated to tell Emerilla this. True, only the parliament knew the full extent of Hoole’s mission. But why was she not eager to share everything with her daughter? She suddenly felt her gizzard give an alarming twinge. What is happening? My gizzard should not be doing this. She looked at her daughter again and marveled at how much she resembled her father.
    Twice during that first day’s sleep in the hollow, Strix Strumajen woke up and went over to where her daughter perched in a corner, sound asleep. Strix Strumajen peered at her, blinking, running her eyes over every little tuft, and gently preening