Guardians of Ga'Hoole 14 - Exile

dared not look at Coryn, but he sent a little prayer up to Glaux. Bubo was not really a praying kind of owl. So it was difficult for him to shape a prayer without some of his usual rough language. His prayers were more like strikes at the anvil then words of great reverence. Racdrops! Let me pull this off, Glaux , he thought. Be a frinkin’ shame were he to see this sprink ember for what it really is . He slipped it into the teardrop-shaped case before Coryn could get a close look at it. It was just the green rim that worried him.
    “There you be!” he said, handing the case to Coryn.
    Coryn reached for it but did not meet Bubo’s eyes. “Don’t worry, Bubo. I’m different now.” It was all Bubo could do not to say “Don’t I know it.” But he held his beak. Coryn was almost out of the cave when Bubo said, “Coryn.” His voice was sharper. Coryn finally looked at him. Bubo skewered him with the intense gold of his eyes. “You do right by that ember, Coryn. You do right by her.” Coryn suddenly looked stricken. He stumbled a bit. “Don’tworry.” His voice quaked. Then he repeated the words but this time there was a testy edge to his voice. “Don’t worry.”
    “I am sorry, so sorry that these troubles have to be the reason for our first meeting. I have heard so much about you, Bess.” Pelli was perched on the edge of a dictionary stand in the Palace of Mists. “And this place,” she added, swiveling her head around. The stand held the largest dictionary she had ever seen. There were at least a thousand pages, with what must have been millions of words.
    “Don’t apologize, please. This situation sounds dire. And you were right to bring the ember here. Don’t worry, I know a good place to hide it. But forgive me if I don’t tell you where. It would only make it more dangerous for you.”
    “Yes, of course. The fewer who know about it the better.” Pelli nodded in agreement. “But you have heard nothing of this blue owl’s activities here on the mainland?”
    “No, only at the great tree when Otulissa came with that young Pygmy…”
    “Fritha?”
    “Yes, Fritha, when they brought the books. I suppose.” Bess nervously tapped the cabinet on which she perched with her foot. She began again. “I suppose I should havegone out and explored a bit. But I have a hard time leaving this place. It’s…my…my weakness.”
    “Yes,” Pelli replied softly. Soren had told her about this fear Bess had of leaving the Palace of Mists. “I don’t think it’s weakness, Bess. It’s loyalty and love that keeps you here.”
    Bess just shook her head slowly. “I am not sure myself anymore. But whatever I can do here to help you, the Band, and the Guardians, I will. Rest assured.”
    “The Band did not stop here, did they?”
    “No, I haven’t seen a feather of them since they began the weather experiments Otulissa wrote me about.”
    “I wish I could find them. They sent a letter back to Coryn saying that they needed to extend their stay indefinitely.”
    “To Coryn? Didn’t Soren write you a note?” Bess asked. Pelli shook her head. “How odd.”
    “Yes, I thought so, too.” Pelli sighed. “Well, I must go straight back, before I am missed. I left the B’s in Mrs. Plithiver’s charge.”
    “Ah, Mrs. Plithiver. What an extraordinary creature.”
    “Indeed!”
    Pelli had planned to go straight back. She would have had she not caught a glimpse of something flappingagainst the broad and mottled trunk of a sycamore tree. Going into a steep dive, she pulled out of it mid-trunk-level and hovered so she could read the piece of paper. It was a notice, written by a scribe undoubtedly, and tied to the tree with vines. She read it aloud to herself.
    “‘The four members of the Guardians of the Great Ga’Hoole Tree, known collectively throughout the owl kingdoms as the Band, were seen consorting with scrooms and dabbling in faithless acts of hagscraft. They were doing this under the cover of a so-called scientific expedition. Further information suggests that they have renounced their Guardian oath and switched their allegiance to the Northern Kingdoms. For this reason, the parliament of the Great Ga’Hoole Tree forbids anyone to welcome them into their hollows, speak to them, or transact any manner of business with them. Warning: These owls are considered dangerous.’“
    “I can’t believe it!” Pelli said. A terrible bilious feeling rose in her gizzard. She thought she might be