Guardians of Ga'Hoole 11 - To Be a King

about this owl. Her intensity almost unnerved him, yet she was fascinating. She stirred in him something vaguely familiar. A confusion of feelings. It suddenly dawned on Hoole. She’s not unlike the ember.
    “Are you all right, Your Majesty? Is something wrong?” Lutta asked.
    “No, no, I’m fine. And you say there are enough weapons for the rest in your squad?”
    “Yes, of course…and Hoole…”
    “Yes, Emerilla?”
    Her gaze had softened and she seemed to be looking far off, almost as if she was in a trance.
    ”Emerilla, what is it? Did you have something more you wanted to say?”
    Lutta shook her head rapidly, almost violently. “Oh nothing, Your Majesty, nothing at all.” But of course she had so much more to say. The words pressed against her beak. She wanted to say, “And when this is over, we’ll be together, forever, always. I’ll be your queen.” No, just his mate—that would be enough. She began to feel a deep ache within her. “Just his mate.” These three words surprised Lutta as much as anything. They were true. She did not care about being a queen. She just wanted to belong, that was all. A dread crept through her. This cannot be. I don’t have a gizzard! I don’t have a gizzard!

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Not the Ember!
    “ W hat? What do you mean it’s not the ember?”
    “It’s a fraud, you idiot.”
    Kreeth swatted Lutta with a broad wing across her now darkly feathered face. Lutta had shed the plumage of a Spotted Owl. It had been a brilliant transformation. She had been leading her squad of owls through the Narrows according to Hoole’s battle plan, then had flown ahead around a bend. Mere seconds later, she flew out again, no longer a Spotted Owl but a full-blown hagsfiend. The shock of the owls in the squad had thrilled her. Three had actually gone yeep before she could even cast a fyngrot. The four others attempted to fight, but Lutta had come back with an ice scimitar and made quick work of them. She did not waste any time collecting their heads, but flew back immediately to the deserted great tree and seized the ember.
    But now Kreeth was telling her that this was not the ember.
    “But it looks exactly like the one in Hoole’s hollow. And look at this tear-shaped box it is in.”
    “I will claw your eyes out!” Kreeth flew at Lutta who wrapped her wings around her face.
    “No! No! Don’t!”
    “Then get it for me, you fool.”
    “He must have substituted this ember for the real one. He…he…he didn’t trust me.” And at that moment something broke in Lutta. A gizzard?
    From the air, the ridge lands of the H’rathghar glacier were a series of sawtooth ice crests that swelled in waves for nearly as far as the eye could see. It was at the edge of these ridge lands that the Ice Palace rose, now half its former size. With no hagsfiends to guard it, and an insane imposter king inside with only a handful of troops, the palace was defenseless. Yet taking it would be far from easy. Not with Lord Arrin’s troops amassing on the other side of it. Even from where Hoole perched, he could see the darker-than-night ragged shadows draped on those far ridges. Lord Arrin had reconstituted his hagsfiend regiment and combined them with those of Elgobad and every other renegade and outlaw. All these enemies of the old regime, with its codes of honor and nobility, were now gathered to take the palace.
    Around Hoole’s neck the ember hung in a batteredvial, much like the ones Frost Beak masters wore to carry their ice-splinter repair kits.
    “I can’t understand where the Ice Narrows squad is,” Hoole wondered aloud. “They should have been here by now.” Hoole looked at his troops. They were a motley army. The guardians of the parliament as befitted their stations looked quite formidable with their battle claws, ice sabers, cutlasses, and scimitars. Then there were the hireclaws from the S’yrthghar as well as others who had come because of their love of Hoole. Many more came to fight in honor of Hoole’s mother, the late Queen Siv. Large numbers of them had followed Siv into the Battle of the Beyond. They called themselves the Sivian Guard. Predominantly female, they were incredibly fierce and very skilled with both battle claws and ice scimitars. They were commanded by Strix Strumajen whom they adored.
    Hoole glanced now toward Strix Strumajen, erect on her perch, scanning the horizon for her daughter. He knew she was a stalwart soldier and would not let Emerilla’s