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

and blinded by glaring light and seagull poop. It took three Pure Ones to give chase to one Hoolian owl. Bubo had taken over the position of the fallen quartermaster and was quickly issuing black ice goggles to protect the eyes of Hoolian owls from the glare. Fritha was overseeing ignition stations for the owls that fought with fire. Trees of lightning spread their crackling limbsin the dark sky as an electrical storm shattered the night and thunderbolts stabbed the darkness.
    Coryn, meanwhile, was luring Nyra closer and closer with the ember. Twilight and Soren were trying to protect him, serving as a flanking guard, but Coryn was so quick it was hard to keep up with him or anticipate where he might dart next. With the ember in his beak, a burning branch in his port talon, and an ice scimitar in his starboard one, he was a fearsome sight. But no more fearsome than Nyra.
    Twilight’s gizzard seized as he saw a yellow light begin to seep from her eyes. “Great Glaux,” he whispered. “Is she…?” He dared not complete the thought.
    Yes. She was becoming a hagsfiend before their very eyes. The yellow glare grew stronger. Soren saw that Coryn had begun to fly unevenly. “It’s the fyngrot!” Did he shout that or did someone else?
    Coryn realized what was happening. He was more frightened than he had ever been before. He could taste the bile of his fear. He could feel his muscles locking. He began to stagger in flight. But when he was the most frightened, he stilled his thoughts, reached deep inside himself to the bottom of his gizzard, and from it he extracted the “ore” of his raw fear. I shall smelt this into courage. I will fight on with my eyes closed if I have to.
    At the same time, Coryn had another realization: that although the ember was hidden away and the world was safer, he still had not accomplished all he had set out to do. And if he did not live to be part of that new safer world…well, was not his life a small price to pay for this peace? He knew that he was staring death in the face. And that face was the face of his mother. She had reverted to her true nature. And although his mother’s blood might run through his veins, her nature was not his. He had found his true self in this War of the Ember.
    All of his fears dissolved. He was prepared to fly into the wings of death. He had no links to life, no mate, no offspring. But he still had life itself and that he would give gladly, to ensure that Nyra never again tyrannized the world of owls. There would be no peace until she was destroyed. She would never give up. She would always be a threat. This must be the last fight. It must end here, he thought. He felt his gizzard throbbing now, not with pain or anxiety but excitement. He was over the crater of Hrath’ghar from where he had first retrieved the ember.
    Soren watched as Coryn, who a minute before had been at his side, suddenly veered off. What is he doing? Soren wondered in alarm as he saw Coryn make a wild dash to the crater’s edge. He was waving the ember,beckoning to Nyra. The rims of craters were notoriously dangerous. She-winds could erupt violently around them as cool air collided with the volcano’s heat to create lethal shears and downdrafts. Was Coryn going to fight his mother at the crater’s edge in the maelstrom of a she-wind? Soren saw Nyra fly directly toward Coryn. The young king was alone now. Twilight had flown off to another skirmish, where his two brothers were outnumbered. Coryn had no one to fight alongside him. Soren had no choice. He hurled himself toward Coryn in the wake of Nyra. If he could only catch up with the vile owl and finish her off! But she’d already reached the rim. He saw Coryn parry and then dive into a gap in the flames of the volcano. Soren blinked. It was an insanely perilous maneuver that Coryn had just executed. But it allowed Soren to slide into a flanking position close to his nephew’s starboard wing.
    “You shouldn’t be here, Uncle.”
    “I can think of no better place than at your side.” Before they knew it, Nyra had flown into the same space. They began circling one another. It was two against one. Still, it was difficult. The winds were strong, tumultuous. Blessedly, the she-winds had not started to blow. The volcano itself, however, was in a phase of active eruption. Sheets of flames rose like dancing curtains, alabyrinth of fire. And Coryn was leading Nyra deeper and deeper into the maze. Soren was gripped with a fear he