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

are, as we believe, in the Ice Cliff Palace? If they’d seen our allied forces in the Northern Kingdoms, wouldn’t they come?”
    “Not if they are busy brooding a haggish force of their own,” Gylfie said.
    “Yes, of course,” Digger replied.
    “There have been rumors of Nyra flying out of the Northern Kingdoms, flying south to a mustering point to lead her troops into the Beyond. We suspect the Striga will follow with dragon owls and…” Clover hesitated. She could hardly bring herself to say the word. “And hagsfiends within hours of their hatching.”
    Just minutes before this report from Clover, Soren had counseled them all to calm down but now his own gizzard was in a complete tumult, grinding and lurching as if there was a storm raging in there. He swallowed hard on a rising pellet. He pressed his beak shut and squinted. Concentrate! Concentrate! There was a flickering in his brain. Every Band member fell silent and stared at Soren. They knew this posture. Beak clamped, eyesslitted, he was turning his head in small circles as he did when scooping up sound. Except it was not sound he sought but ideas, memories. “Gareth’s Keep.” Soren said the two words distinctly.
    “Gareth’s Keep,” Gylfie repeated. “The fortress in the Battle of Little Hoole where Strix Struma…That was years ago.”
    “Exactly!” Soren’s eyes now blazed. “The Keep was almost impenetrable. Before the Battle of Little Hoole, word came of an invasion by the enemy, the Ice Talons League. Although vastly outnumbered, the troops of the Northern Kingdoms defeated the invaders by luring them into the narrow pass of Gareth’s Keep. It is one of the most famous battles in Hoolian history.
    “We can do what Strix Struma did thirty years ago: use the natural terrain.”
    “What terrain are you talking about?” Ruby asked.
    “The yondos!” Soren and Gylfie both said at once.
    The yondos were the strange rock formations that rose, writhing and twisting, from the volcanic landscape of the Beyond. The two largest yondos were called the Hot Gates of the Beyond because they were massive and flanked the entrance to the Sacred Ring of Volcanoes. A mountain ridge backed them up.
    The words tumbled out of Gylfie’s beak in a rush.“We can do what they did at Little Hoole—block their passage to the Sacred Ring. Trap them in between the two yondos in the narrowest air corridors and attack in waves just as they get into the passage. There will be no room for them to maneuver.”
    “Ruby!” Soren turned to the Short-eared Owl.
    “Yes, sir!” Soren blinked. He still couldn’t get used to this normally ruddy owl with her new blondish-hued feathers. “Take this message to Coryn—by now he should be at the Sacred Ring of Volcanoes.”
    “What’s the message?”
    “‘Gareth’s Keep.’” No need for code. He’ll know what I mean. Coryn is a student of history and he’s read every word written on the Battle of Little Hoole.”
    Ruby took off, a blur darting through the night. It was probably the fastest flight any owl had ever made in such miserable weather. At this time of the year the Hoolestar rose in the northeast and began its westerly passage. It had hardly flickered over the horizon when Ruby arrived at the Sacred Ring. She was exhausted and gasped not two words but six: “Gareth’s Keep. Enemy force one thousand.”
    Coryn instantly knew the meaning of her words.
    And thus a second front opened in the War of the Ember.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The Hot Gates of the Beyond
    W olf scouts from the Beyond and owl scouts from various stations were dispatched immediately to report on the progress of the enemy troops that had been surging out of Kuneer. In relays they reported back to Coryn, who was already established in the Beyond. Nyra was reported to have arrived with an advance unit of Pure Ones at the northern border of Ambala, where they had encountered and skirmished with units of Ambalan owls. The casualties were low. And the Pure Ones were now slicing across the northern corner of the canyonlands, choosing a longer route rather than fighting a headwind that would exhaust them.
    In the meantime, Coryn looked out upon his own troops from his perch on top of the westernmost yondo, his back to the direction from which the enemy owls would approach. The Band perched on either side of him. He looked out at the harsh land between where he perched and the Sacred Ring. The Guardians numberedfive hundred owls all told.