Guardians of Ga'Hoole 11 - To Be a King

side of Hoole, Grank perched. Next to him was Theo, then Phineas. On the other side of Hoole was Lord Rathnik, and beside Lord Rathnik, Sir Garthnore, a Snowy Owl, and his mate, Lady Helling; a Northern Hawk Owl, Sir Tobyfyor (or Toby); Lord Vladkyn, who was a Screech; Sir Bors, a Barn Owl; and finally, a Spotted Owl named Strix Strumajen.
    Hoole blinked at the assembled group. He knew what they were thinking: Where is the ember? This, after all, was the symbol of his power. The owls, perched in their niches, tried not to appear anxious, but there was an undeniable agitation in the parliament hollow as the birds discreetly swiveled their heads, searching for the ember.
    Finally, Sir Garthnore nervously clacked his beak and began, “Er…Your Grace, is something amiss with the ember?”
    “No, no, it is safely tucked away,” Hoole said. “I have set two guards upon it.”
    “Is that wise, Your Grace?” asked Lord Vladkyn.
    “Why would it be unwise, Lord Vladkyn? Are you fearful someone might steal it?”
    “No, Your Grace. But we have sworn allegiance to you because you are the one who retrieved the ember.” A murmur of assent rippled through the parliament as the owls turned to one another and nodded in agreement. “It seems only fitting.”
    “Why?” Hoole asked.
    The Lord Rathnik spoke. “We wish to invest Your Majesty with absolute power. That is what we thought was the point of this gathering. It seems only fitting, therefore, to elevate you—you who hold the ember.”
    Grank was watching Hoole carefully. This would be the test, Grank thought.
    “This is difficult to explain,” Hoole began, “but I have come to you today to tell you that I do not want absolute power.” There was a great stirring and grumbling in the hollow. “Quiet! Quiet!” Hoole seized a stick of wood and rapped on the hollow’s walls. “Listen to me. The time has come for a new order. I shall be your king. But you cannot simply hand over power. True, part of my power comes from the ember. But another part does not.”
    “Your Highness, from whence does it come?” Sir Garthnore bellowed in the great booming tones of a Snowy.
    A surge of voices now called out: “From where does this power come, if not the ember?” “Tell us, sir.”
    “Let him speak!” It was Strix Strumajen. Hoole had noticed that she had not joined in the hue and cry with the others but had remained quite still, with her eyes settled on him.
    “The ember does have powers,” Hoole answered, “and should it fall into the wrong talons, it would be disastrous. I shall do all I can to prevent that. But the powers of the ember come from magen—magic. Magic is not a justifiable reason for power.”
    “Magic is not reason, Your Grace. So why question it with reason?” Lady Helling asked. There was a murmur of approval that passed through the hollow.
    “I do not question magic. But I question your willingness to let it, through the ember, rule over you. You must think of power as a tree. The roots of a tree are what anchor it to the earth and let it soar, like this tree, into the sky. They are the reasons a tree grows. And I tell you now that the roots of power for us who live in this great tree must be the ideals of goodness, equality, and nobility. I have chosen to have our parliamentary hollow here, near the roots of thetree, as a constant reminder of the true sources of power. Do not give me power that I have not earned. Do not make me an absolute ruler. I am your king, but we must come together as equals to discuss and decide our course. It is not birth or magic that makes one noble. We are only as noble as our actions prove us to be. I hope to rid the owl world not just of nachtmagen, but of all magen—both good and bad. I am an owl first, a king second, but never a mage. Never.”
    The owls had quieted. Grank looked at the young king with wonder and thought, I am in the presence of great Ga’.
    “Now, let me tell you my plan…” And so Hoole began to explain his vision to the knights of the great tree. “When I was very young on that island in the Bitter Sea, Grank told me stories of owls in the early part of my grandfather King H’rathmore’s reign, tales of owls who came together for sport to display their skills and learn in small groups called chaws. So, what I propose is that we divide the members of the tree into different chaws that will come together to learn new things.”
    “New things? What new things?” Sir Bors