Guardians of Ga'Hoole 14 - Exile

fire ladders. He is also renowned for his low-level close-to-ground rolling-ember retrievals. Let’s give them a big round of applause!”
    The other teams from the opposing kingdoms on the mainland were announced. In this event there would be four sets of two-owl teams simultaneously diving into the fires. They would be judged on speed and the number and quality of coals retrieved.
    “And flying under the moss cloak of the Greenowls of Ambala we have Braithe, Whiskered Screech, Otus trichopsis , known for his crown-leaping, along with his partner, Tintagel.”
    Pelli was watching from the hollow where she had lined up for March of the Diamonds. Had he said Tintagel? She blinked. He’s here! My dear Soren is here! Who else would call himself Tintagel, the name of the castle in the book that she and Soren had read from the Fragmentum? The Legends of King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table was their favorite book. Tintagel! Soren was back. He had come to save the great tree! The word was secretly passed beak to ear slit. The Guardians, the true owls of the great tree, were emboldened. Their message had gotten through.
    As Ruby flew up from one of her famous short, steep aerial plunges a voice whispered, “What a ‘magnificent Asio flammeus’ !”
    “I knew it was you,” Ruby whispered back. “Tinky Town or whatever you’re calling yourself. No one does that power dive quite like you. So you’re back.”
    “Absolutely!” Soren whispered.
    “The action starts with the March of the Diamonds.”
    Pelli and Otulissa and the owls in the tunnel were ready. Although the “vanities” they carried sparkled, they were not diamonds at all. That were deadly ice weapons.
    Elvanryb announced that there would be a break in the games while the judges reviewed the coals retrievedduring the colliering competition. “Between these games and the next set we shall have the March of the Diamonds,” he said, turning to the Striga and the owls of the Blue Brigade, who were gathered on the reviewing branches of the great tree.
    Another dreadful dirge deploring the evil of vanities and the sins of pride began as two columns of owls led by Otulissa and Pelli flew out. Only the points of their glittering ice picks showed, appearing, indeed, like diamonds. Quentin, the quartermaster, had slipped the longer ice blades under the wings of the owls that were marching on the ground, making two tiers of ice-armed owls.
    “I can’t believe how many of these the owls were hoarding, but they have learned their lesson now!” said Field Marshal Cram.
    “Your work has succeeded, Striga,” said another owl who wore not one but two blue feathers.
    “Mission accomplished!” said a third rather smugly.
    And at precisely that moment, Pelli and Otulissa did a midair four-point roll with a turn and tuck and raced toward the viewing branches followed by ten of the finest fliers from the old Strix Struma Strikers. “Eeeeyow!” The Field Marshal saw half his wing hanging limply at his side. Then a cry went up. “It’s the Band!”
    The Greenowls of Ambala flung off their moss capes. Some wore battle claws, but some flew clawless, and beneath the fiery clamor of the mounting battle was the strange windy din of the Danyar fighters inhaling their breaths of qui. There was a loud smack as Braithe of the Brad, flanked by two owls on either side, smashed into the main viewing perch, dislodging a dozen of the Blue Brigade.
    Cries from the Blue Brigade went up to fetch battle claws, fire branches. For in essence, these owls were weaponless, which was exactly what Pelli and Otulissa had counted on. If they could prevent the Blue Brigade and the Striga from gaining access, this would be a battle easily won.
    Ruby was in charge of the Flame Squadron and signaled the lighting, and thirty or more owls flew into the Balefire of burning vanities to spark the branches they had hidden in caches around the tree. The nest-maid snakes had already begun to herd the young’uns into the tree and lead them to safety in the old siege tunnel. Bell looked back and saw her mum flying with her ice pick. Her eyes opened in horror. She might die. It’s all my fault!
    She looked around quickly. No one was watching. Certainly not the blind nest-maid snakes. So Bell made adash to the nearest port in the tree. I’m coming, Mum , she thought. I’ll fight beside you .
    Everything was chaos and confusion. The night whizzed with sparks from the huge Balefire and the