The Capture

cheerfully.
    "Oh, don't worry. I am sure you shall. Where there's a wing there's a way! Now let me see those wings of yours."

    Gylfie and Soren both spread their wings for Hortense to examine. "Lovely, lovely," she said softly.
    "Coverts coming in nicely, Soren. Very nice tip slots developing between the primaries. Essential for drag control, especially during
    turbulent conditions. Your barbs, both of you, are still soft but they'll stiffen up. And I am sure you will both make

    splendid fliers."

    "Any chance we could see the eagles when they come

    in?" Soren asked.

    "Well... they fly in just before first light."

    "I'l work a double shift so I can come up here," Gylfie said quickly "And Soren, try to arrange for a break then for yourself."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

    Save the Egg!

    Number 32-9 reporting for broody duty." An extremely large Barn Owl stood at the edge of the nest.
    Soren scrambled down and set off to find Gylfie. He met her on the rubbly path leading up to the outcropping where Hortense was.

    "You realize, of course," Soren was saying as the winds began to buffet them on their ascent, "that when we learn to fly, the outcropping will make the ideal takeoff spot. Always a breeze to bounce you up.
    Perfect."

    By the time they arrived, Hortense already had the egg out of the nest and was pushing it toward the edge of the rock.

    "Can we help?" Soren asked.

    "Thank you both, but it is really better if I do it by myself. The fewer birds to touch this egg, the less confused the hatchling will be when it comes out."

    "Ah, here she comes. No mate with her tonight again. Must be busy elsewhere," Hortense said. "Gives me such a
    thrill every time I spot those wings. Magnificent, aren't they?"

    Soren saw the white head, brighter than any star, melt from the dim pearly gray of the dawn. The immensity of the eagle wings was incredible. Soren was enraptured. So enraptured that he didn't hear Gylfie's desperate hiss. Finally, a sharp beak poked him in the knees.

    "Soren, quick! I hear someone coming up the path." Then Soren heard it, too. Gylfie dived into a narrow slot. The slot was much too skinny for a fat Barn Owl like Soren.

    "Come in. Come in. We'll squeeze up. It's wider inside." Gylfie was desperate and Soren was nearly frozen with fear to the rock beneath his talons. When owls are frightened, their feathers lie flat and they do become slimmer. So, with fear pumping through him, Soren indeed seemed to shrink. He pressed himself into the crack that, in fact, did widen as it deepened in the rock. He hoped he was not crushing Gylfie. They both were barely breathing as the horrifying scene began to unfold on the outcropping.

    "12-8!" The screech seemed to crack the sky. Good Glaux, it was Skench and Spoorn and Jatt and Jutt.
    And Auntie! Auntie puffed and angry, the yellow light from her eyes no longer soft but a hard metallic glare.

    "I suspected her for some time!" Auntie squawked, and dragged Hortense off the nest that she had just moments before returned to.

    The egg, limned by the rising sun, stood fragile and quivering at the edge of the rock. Soren's eyes were riveted on the egg. The egg loomed so large, so fragile against the dawn sky. It could have been Eglantine. It could have been Eglantine. The thought began to swell in Soren's brain and fill him with a profound terror. This was the future they were fighting for. This was the evilness of St. Aggie's. The egg teetered on the brink as did the entire world of owls. The eagle hovered above.

    Suddenly, there was a deep mournful howl. "Go for the egg\ Don't worry about me. Save the egg ... save the egg\" Hortense shrieked. Then a huge shadow slid across the outcropping and next there was an explosion of feathers. It seemed to Soren that there was nothing but feathers. Feathers and down everywhere swirling in the glimmering rosy light of the new day. The eagle was everyplace at once. And Hortense's voice kept crying, "Save the eggl Save the egg!" Auntie was the fiercest fighter of them all.
    Her beak open and ready to tear, her yellow eyes flashing madly in her head, her talons extended and trying to rip at the eagle's eyes, she was a white squall of fury. Scalding curses tore from her mouth,
    "Kill! Kill!" she screamed in a high-pitched deafening voice. Her feathered face hardened until it seemed like stone. Slashed by a dark beak and the savage yellow eyes, it was a blazing white mask of brutality.

    Then Gylfie and Soren saw the eagle take a