Guardians of Ga'Hoole 14 - Exile

Coryn perched. “Sir, a problem?” The blue owl had sensed something. Coryn felt his gizzard clench painfully. But it was a welcome pain. He was feeling again, thinking again. He was regaining his wits and in that moment he knew that he must appear as witless as ever. “No, nothing wrong. Now tell me, what are the plans for Balefire Night?”
    “Well, yes. We are going to build a very large bonfire—the largest ever—and it will be the final stage of the special relinquishment ceremonies.” Coryn felt a chill run through his gizzard. He knew about “special” ceremonies. His mother, Nyra, had invented several; one in particular required that Coryn murder a friend.
    But now he couldn’t escape, nor did he want to. He was the king of this great tree. The tree was still great but his own honor was gone. He had let this happen and now he must take responsibility for restoring his honor and order to the tree. He returned to his hollow and peered into the flames again. Was that a reflection in the golden light? Was it his own flickering image? He took a step closer to the grate. “Who is it?” he whispered to the flames. He heard a slithering on the edge of his hollow. Mrs. Plithiver slid into the hollow, carrying a nut cup of milk-berry tea.
    “Mrs. P., what are you doing here?”
    “I was on my way to visit with Audrey, and I thought I perceived a new stirring in a gizzard that—How should I put it? Has not stirred for a while.”
    Coryn blinked. “Yes, Mrs. P.” Coryn nodded slowly and lowered his voice. “A gizzard has stirred.”
    “My coronation teacup…I don’t know where it is,” Madame Plonk had said to the Barred Owl who had flown into her hollow without even asking. And it was true, Madame Plonk did not know where it was. The Barred Owl believed her and left. Octavia, her nest-maid snake, pretended to snooze in a fat coil in the corner of the hollow. It was certainly not the hollow it had oncebeen. Stripped of all ornamentation, the spinning glass whirligigs, the plush velvet cushions, the embroidered cloth, the niches that spilled with beads. Most of them had been seized but Doc Finebeak had managed to sneak a few off the island, and Octavia herself had tucked the teacup away very soon after the first relinquishing ceremonies had begun some nights ago. Although Doc Finebeak had planned to leave right after Punkie Night, Madame Plonk had begged to stay through Balefire Night as she was sure singing would be permitted.
    Since Punkie Night, things had deteriorated. Too many strangers had stayed on at the tree after the celebration. The great grass harp had mysteriously suffered new damage. So there had been no song night after night. And now as he entered the hollow he shared with his dear Plonkie, he found her in tears. Between sobs she explained what had happened.
    “Don’t worry, my dear. It is safe,” he whispered. But he was agitated and again frustrated that he had not insisted upon their leaving earlier. Just then, Octavia lifted her head. “Oh, Octavia,” Madame Plonk gasped, “you won’t believe what happened.”
    “Yes, I will. No—don’t waste your breath explaining, dearie.” She swung her head toward Doc Finebeak. “Doc, you need to go to Bubo’s forge. Otulissa is waiting therefor you. I think she might have something…” She hesitated. “Something hopeful to tell you.”
    The fires of the forge were crackling noisily. And Bubo was beating the daylights out of a chunk of redmore, a particularly hard kind of rock that yielded a high grade of metal. He saw Doc coming and nodded him into the cave. Doc quickly realized that Bubo meant the whanging and banging of his hammer on the anvil and the cracklings of the hot fires in the forge to serve as a bulwark of noise so that Otulissa could speak to him without fear of being overheard. Quickly, she divulged the secret training that was going on in the old tunnel. She explained how Bubo had juiced the counterfeit ember. Doc’s gizzard sang when he heard this news. They needed his help. She had explained that there were few of them in on the plan as they did not want to arouse suspicion. She also told him how Pelli, after her trip to hide the real ember, had gone to see Hortense and told her of the happenings. From Hortense, she found out that the Band was aware of the dire conditions at the tree. They would be coming back soon with help. But Otulissa and Pelli and Bubo felt that more was needed now.
    “Doc, can you help