Guardians of Ga'Hoole 14 - Exile

to one.
    “Well,” said Gylfie. “This is the one we set out three nights ago at a latitude of forty-three degrees north and one hundred twenty degrees west.” Gylfie, the ryb of the navigation chaw and probably the best navigator in the history of the tree, had, over the past few years, advanced the science of navigation. By relating distanceto time she had figured out how to derive a much more precise geographical location. While studying some fragmentary documents in the Palace of Mists, she stumbled upon the description of a little mechanism—a chronometer—for measuring time and immediately set about trying to build one. It was another instance in that time of the Great Flourishing when Trader Mags had been very helpful. In Mags’ treasure trove, the chapel ruins in Silverveil where she lived, she had several of the key parts for the chronometer, and dedicated herself to searching the more distant ruins of the Others for the rest. Bubo helped by forging some of the tiny parts. Finally, such a clock, a very small one, had been reassembled.
    There had been so many wonderful advances since Coryn had brought the Ember of Hoole to the Great Ga’Hoole Tree. That was part of the mystery of the ember. Its peculiar power bestowed both blessings and curses. The ember was neither purely good nor purely evil.
    Twilight and Gylfie landed just beneath the still-circulating buoy. Gylfie flipped open the tiny chronometer that she always carried and did a few quick calculations.
    “All right, yes! I think we have some interesting data here,” Gylfie proclaimed triumphantly. “Let’s get Digger and Soren.”
    “Yes!” Twilight hooted and thrust a talon into the air. “We win the prize!”
    They had agreed that whoever made the first important finding got to eat the stomach of the next ground squirrel they caught. The stomach was the tastiest part of this delicious rodent, the prize.
    Meanwhile, Soren and Digger were flying in another region of the Shadow Forest known as the “notch.”
    “I don’t see them,” Twilight said.
    “I don’t, either,” Gylfie replied. Then suddenly from a very tall cedar, Soren appeared.
    “Quick, follow me!” he said, swooping in. “I’ve been listening for you.” His expression was grim.
    “Did you find a feather buoy, or what?” Twilight asked. “Because if you did, it’s a tie and we’ll have to split the stomach.”
    “Forget about feather buoys. Follow me.” Soren began to carve a steep, banking turn. It was a cloudy night and the moon was still in the newing phase, as it rose in the blackness like a thin curve of silver light scratching at the night. Soren swiveled his head around and addressed Twilight and Gylfie. “We’re going to fly really high, and then begin to plunge. A stealth plunge.”
    A stealth plunge? Gylfie and Twilight both thought. This was a maneuver usually reserved for battle, not scientificexpeditions. Whatever it was that Soren was leading them to must be serious. Soren launched himself into a climbing spiral, then a few minutes later began the plunge.
    The target, however, was not an owl or prey, but rather one of the giant trees that could be found in the notch. They landed in the bushiest part of the tree, where Digger was waiting. He raised his port wing and signaled that they should be quiet. Then, with Digger now leading, they crept out on one of the branches. He indicated with his head to look down. There was indeed a peculiar scent. Something was burning below, but the smoke hung low over the ground. Gylfie and Twilight could not see what it was that Soren and Digger appeared to be focusing on, but a light breeze stirred the air, and the smoke cleared, leaving a blue-tinged gloom.
    Within that gloom, they could see a circle of owls standing around a small fire. The owls’ faces were bathed in the glow of the fire and their shadows danced across the pools of light behind them. Most of them were quite young. Some, however, were older. Old enough to know better , Soren thought. Digger and he had been astounded when they came across this queer ceremony. At first they were simply curious, but soon they felt a sickening twist in their gizzards as they watched a Burrowing Owl step up to the fire with a book in his beak and drop it into theflames. “Watch this!” Soren whispered to Gylfie. Another owl stepped forward and dropped in another book.
    So this was the source of the smell , Gylfie thought. It was the smell she had been the