Guardians of Ga'Hoole 13 - The River of Wind

our own king should know about it.”
    “Yes.” Soren nodded firmly and blinked. “I think I should gather the rest of the Chaw of Chaws and take them to Coryn’s hollow at once.” He hopped off his perch and lighted down on the rim and looked out. “It’s not long until tween time.”
    Tween time occurred between the last drop of daylight as the sun set and the first bit of darkness, oftencalled First Lavender, which preceded First Black, for it never turned dark all at once. It was at this time that tweener, the largest meal for owls, was served. Coryn and the rest of the Chaw of Chaws—minus Ruby—waited impatiently in Coryn’s hollow to find out why Otulissa and Soren had called them to meet so suddenly.
    “Where’s Ruby?” Otulissa said.
    “You know how Ruby hates to get up early,” Martin said.
    “Can’t say I’m loving this myself.” Twilight yawned noisily. “Better be good.”
    Indeed they all seemed rather sleepy, except for Soren and Otulissa.
    “Sorry…sorry, I’m late,” Ruby said, landing in the hollow.
    Otulissa looked at Soren. “Do you want to begin?”
    Where to begin? Soren thought. Ruby and Martin didn’t even know about the Palace of Mists. So first that had to be explained.
    Soren began slowly. “There is this place, Ruby and Martin, that we discovered when we were youngsters. It is called the Palace of Mists.”
    “Palace of Mists,” Ruby said with wonder. Soren went on to explain that they had promised Bess they would keep it a secret, except for telling Otulissa. Bess was ascholar and she had agreed to share the library and what she knew with the two most scholarly owls of the Great Tree—Otulissa and the late Ezylryb. Soren then turned to Otulissa. “I think you should tell them about the letter from Bess.”
    “I committed the letter to memory,” she said, “so I will just recite it.” Otulissa felt the tension in the hollow mounting, and then she arrived at those astounding three sentences:
    “But such is not the case. These star maps were not created by the Others, but by owls. There is in fact a sixth kingdom of owls. It is called the Middle Kingdom, and I believe it is within wingreach.”
    One could have heard a feather drop, or a thread of down from a plummel for that matter. There was complete and utter silence. And then everyone started talking at once. “A sixth kingdom?” “So far?” “How do we get there?” “When do we go?” “Do we tell the rest of the tree?” “What do we tell them?”
    “Quiet!” Coryn ordered. They all turned to him. “We have to take things in an orderly fashion.” Despite his measured tone and careful words, they all could see that Coryn was as excited as they were. He had never been to the Palace of Mists. He had heard about it from the Band and longed to go there and meet the mysterious Bess. Andnow perhaps to travel to this sixth kingdom—but who would be in charge of the tree? The last time they had left, near disaster had ensued. “Right now, it’s not so much a question of when we leave, but how.”
    Ruby blinked and thought, How? Fly! How else?
    “Do we tell the parliament right now?” Coryn asked.
    Digger stepped forward. “First, I think we have to go to the Palace of Mists. Second, we must review the fragments and discuss all this with Bess. Finally, if indeed we decide to go on and seek the sixth kingdom across the Unnamed Sea—which in itself is a staggering thought—I think someone must know where we have gone. We also must tell that someone of Bess and the Palace of Mists—in case we do not return within one moon cycle.”
    Soren interjected, “If we do not return within a moon’s cycle, there should be arrangements to send a contingent to the Palace of Mists.” He paused. “And I think Eglantine would be a good choice. Eglantine along with Primrose. I will speak with them about it.”
    “All right, I think we’ve got the beginning of a plan. Tweener will be soon,” Coryn said. “I know we’re all very excited but, please, not a word about this in the dining hollow. No one must know anything yet.”
    “Yes, Coryn is right.” Soren nodded solemnly. “Not a word to anyone.”

CHAPTER THREE
Mrs. Plithiver Perceives
    F or some, however, words did not have to be spoken. Despite the reputation of reptiles as dull-witted, less evolved, primitive creatures, it was well known that the blind nest-maid snakes of the Great Ga’Hoole Tree—indeed blind snakes serving anywhere as