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

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

Titel: Guardians of Ga'Hoole 15 - The War of the Ember Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
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it where?” Otulissa asked. There was doubt in her voice.
    “In the Beyond. That’s where it came from…” Coryn broke off speaking. He had started to say, “And that is where it belongs,” but he stopped.
    “It’s very risky, I think,” Otulissa began, “using the ember this way…but…but…”
    “Hagsfiends are risky,” Coryn said. “Nachtmagen is risky. It must be done,” Coryn said resolutely.
    “Are you sure, Coryn?” Otulissa pressed. “You are risking everything.”
    “But what will any of us have in a world with hagsfiends flying about?”
    He turned now to Cleve. He did not want to arguethis point any longer. “You said that after you discovered the massacre at the Gray Rocks and your engagement with the blue owls in the Ice Narrows, you came across some kraals?”
    “Yes, and gadfeathers. They had witnessed the carnage left by the massacre, and helped the few survivors get away. Needless to say, they are furious—and ready to fight.”
    Coryn’s dark eyes glittered. “Could the two of you fly back to the great tree? Tell Madame Plonk that I would like her to fly to the Northern Kingdoms, to the places where the gadfeathers gather. See if she could muster a company of gadfeather owls, and kraals as well.”
    “I don’t know if the gadfeathers can fight, Coryn,” Otulissa said. “I mean, they have no experience. They sing.”
    “They are angry, Otulissa. Their own kind have been slaughtered. Don’t underestimate passion. The passion they put into their songs can be put into combat. And anybody from the Northern Kingdoms can handle a short blade.
    “So,” Coryn continued. “Not only must you tell Madame Plonk to seek the help of the gadfeathers, but I have a special mission for Doc Finebeak.”
    “Crows? You want him to recruit crows?” Otulissa asked.
    “Yes!” Doc Finebeak had enjoyed a long and productive relationship with the very birds that most owls feared. Crows. He was revered by crows. “But more. I want him to go to Ambala.”
    Coryn did not even need to finish the sentence. Otulissa knew exactly what he intended. If the Mysticus had instigated the turn in the Battle of the Book in the canyonlands the Greenowls of Ambala had turned the Battle of Balefire Night when the Striga and his followers had been driven from the tree with their help.
    “And now, I must be off,” Coryn said.
    “But where are you going?” Otulissa asked.
    “It’s better that you not know for now, Otulissa.”
    “Really?” There was a plaintive note in her voice. Otulissa was as close to Coryn as any owl in the great tree except Soren. It was she who had found him alone, despondent, an outcast in the Beyond. It had been Otulissa, a master collier herself, who had started to teach the young owl the fine art of colliering at the Sacred Ring of volcanoes.
    Coryn was a natural. She had never seen an owl so quick to learn. Otulissa had watched him retrieve the Ember of Hoole. Many had tried to retrieve the emberin the thousand years since Hoole had restored it to the volcanoes, but none had succeeded. Not until Coryn had come. Thus a special bond had been forged between the Spotted Owl and the young king. Otulissa had been as much of a confidante to Coryn as his uncle Soren.
    Coryn now reached out with the tip of his port wing and touched her shoulder softly. “Don’t worry, old friend. It’s better you not know.”
    “Of course.” Otulissa nodded. “Glaux speed, Coryn!” she murmured as she watched him spread his wings and lift off.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
At the Wolf’s Fang
    O ne by one the owls had dropped out of the fast-scudding striated clouds into the mist that swirled around a rock that looked like a wolf’s fang on the far western edge of the Sea of Vastness. But now the rock was almost completely obscured by fog. Perfect Ezylryb weather, Soren thought. But Soren did not need visual cues to find the Wolf’s Fang. Tilting his head this way, then that, expanding and contracting his facial muscles to scoop up the finer nuances of the breaking waves as they encountered an obstacle in their course, he was able to triangulate the exact position of this rock entirely from sound clues. And, of course, he had Gylfie with him. The Elf Owl need not see the sun or the stars. The celestial charts were emblazoned on her brain. She could fly blindly through any weather and sense precisely how many points she was from, say, the port claw of the Little Raccoon constellation, on a

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