Guardians of Ga'Hoole 15 - The War of the Ember

yoicks.” The Great Gray had taken the words out of all their beaks. Soren swiveled his head, first one way and then the other. He blinked at this motley crew: Dumpy the puffin, Gwyndor, and the most astonishing visitor of all—Bess—Bess who had never in their experience dared leave the Palace of Mists.
    Yoicks, indeed, thought Soren. Bess had arrived on the branch outside his hollow as he and Pelli and their children were about to take tea. Completely exhausted, feathers askew from the tumultuous flight, she was an alarming sight. The three B’s stared at her wide-eyed. Pelli was speechless. Gulping to catch her breath, Bess said, “I came right here. Soren, I must see the king and the rest of the Band.” He had tried to get her to rest, take a spot of milkberry tea. But she had shouted, which in itself was shocking, for Bess always spoke in a low melodious voice, “There is no time for tea!”
    So they had gone to Coryn’s hollow, only to find the puffin, Dumpy, already there with Otulissa, Tengshu, and Cleve.
    “All right,” said Coryn, “let’s start again at the beginning so Soren and the Band can hear. Take this from the top, as the expression goes.”
    Dumpy immediately tried to stand on his head.
    “That won’t be necessary, dear,” Gylfie said, and flashed a look at Otulissa as if to say, How will we ever get through this?
    Little by little the story came out. A fragment here, a sliver there. Threads, snippets. No one individual had the whole piece but when these shreds were pieced together there emerged a grim design indeed—on a diabolical cloth.
    “Now, let’s review what we know,” Coryn said. “The ember. You are sure, Bess, that is what the Boreal Owl was after? He actually said the word?”
    “He said ‘Where is it?’ and I said, ‘Where is what?’ And he said. ‘The Ember of Hoole.’ And I said. ‘I know nothing of any ember.’”
    “And then you killed him.”
    “Well, it wasn’t quite that quick. We fought. But, yes. I killed him. He’s dead.” All the owls looked at oneanother and shook their heads in wonder. Bess, the timid scholar, had killed an owl!
    “So we must assume that this Boreal Owl is not the only one who knows about the ember,” Soren spoke softly.
    “I didn’t know what to think,” Bess replied. “I was torn about what to do. Whether to fly here with the ember. But if there were other owls who knew I might be carrying it, I could be ambushed. It seemed best to leave it hidden where it is.”
    “I think that was the best decision,” Coryn said. “But now, turning toward this other matter.” There was a sharp, quick stab like a pinprick in all of their gizzards. By “other matter” they knew Coryn meant hagsfiends.
    “Kreeth’s book is still here,” Otulissa said. “It was the first thing I checked on after we ousted the Striga, or rather the first thing Fritha checked, since I was so badly wounded. There is no way he could have studied that book. It’s been under lock and key since the time we took it…” She hesitated, for the searing image was still sharp in her mind, as it was in the minds of the other owls who had been there: Cody’s bloodied and broken body crumpled atop the book. Indeed, the book stillbore stains of the young wolf’s blood. She turned toward Dumpy.
    “Dumpy, now concentrate,” Otulissa said. This was about the fifth time the owls had asked him to concentrate and he was beginning to find it easier. “Can your recall exactly what you heard about hagsfiends?”
    Dumpy closed his eyes again and clamped his beak shut for a moment, then spoke. “I think I can. The blue owl said hagsfiends vanished nearly one thousand years ago. Then the dark owl said, ‘So you think they are gone forever?’ The blue owl said, ‘Madame General, what are you suggesting?’ and the dark owl said, ‘I am suggesting nothing is forever.’ And the blue owl said he wasn’t good at riddles. And then the dark owl said something about the Long Night. ‘A marvelous hatching will occur.’ The blue owl asked, ‘There is an egg?’ And the dark owl said, ‘Soon.’”
    Dumpy paused and looked at his audience of owls. “Hey, what happened to you guys? You all got so skinny,” Dumpy said.
    In the space of Dumpy’s very admirable recitation all the owls had wilfed to half their normal size.
    Soren regained his composure first. “Dumpy, that was an excellent job you did just now. I have one question.”
    “Yes?”
    “Why do you