The Capture

strongly.
    If any owl can do this, you can."

    Soren blinked in dismay. How could he not believe it if this owl, who weighed no more than a wad of leaves, believed so much. It was Gylfie who had the enormous gizzard, not himself So the two little owls began to think constantly about
    flying. They discussed it whenever they could. They shared memories of their parents lifting out of their nests into the sky. They argued about wing angles and drift and updrafts and a dozen other things they had seen and almost felt as they had watched other owls. They pondered endlessly the stony maze of the canyons and ravines that made up St. Aggie's. They knew that the only way out was straight up, requiring the most difficult of flight maneuvers, especially now that they had no access to Hortense's stone outcropping high in the hatchery. There could be no gradual glide for a takeoff Still, they knew that when they escaped, it was essential to find the highest point possible, the point closest to the sky. And Gylfie continued to feel deep in her gizzard that the library would offer such a place, and that within the library they would discover the secret of the flecks, and in some way this secret would become vital to their escape.

    One unseasonably warm day, Gylfie had returned to their station in the pelletorium from a run for new pellets. She was barely able to conceal her excitement. "He's back," she whispered to Soren. "Grimble's back! Get on the next shift with me for new pellets."

    That would be easy. It was a snack shift, and if you were
    on a new pellet run you missed the snack. So no one ever really wanted to go.

    Just as the sun reached its high point, Soren and Gylfie stopped walking forward in the Big Crack. They, of course, continued to move their feet as if they were still marching, and the stream of owlets parted around them and moved on as they remained in the same place. Soren blinked. He did not have to look up to feel the piece of blue sky flowing above them. He had passed this point on the trail many times now, and each time he felt refreshed by the very thought of this small wedge of sky so close. He would close his eyes and feel it. When all the owlets had passed, Gylfie gave the signal and they turned down the smaller crack toward the library.

    Gylfie marched ahead. Soren was trembling with fear. What if Gylfie's suspicions about Grimble being imperfectly moon blinked were wrong? What if Grimble sounded an alarm? What if they were both seized for the next laughter therapy session? Soren winced and felt a twinge flicker from his down fluff to his brand-new primaries.

    Grimble stood in front of the opening to the library. There seemed to be no other owls about. Soren, however, felt the air stir and suddenly realized that it was a breeze. A wonderful thrill coursed through him as it had when he was on the stone outcropping of Hortense's nest. Grimble now turned and blinked at them. Then commenced one of the strangest conversations Soren had ever heard.

    "So you are here," Grimble said.

    "So we are," replied Gylfie.

    "You are conducting yourselves in a dangerous manner," the Boreal Owl said carefully.

    "Our lives are not worth two pellets here. We have nothing to lose," Gylfie replied.

    "Brave words."

    "Not so brave. Wait until you hear my questions. Then you'll know I am brave."

    Soren nearly fainted. How could Gylfie even say the word!

    Grimble began to shake almost uncontrollably. "You dare say the Q!

    "Yes, and I am going to say the what, the when, and the why, and every other word of a free and unmoon-blinked owl. For we are like you, Grimble."

    Grimble began to gag. "Whhh-what?"

    "What am I talking about? Is that what you wanted to ask? Say it, Grimble. Ask how I know this. Ask anything you want and I'll tell you with one answer: I feel it in my gizzard."

    "Gizzard?" Grimble's face grew dreamy with memory.

    "Yes. Gizzard, Grimble. Ours still work. And we know, we sense it -- that you are not moon blinked.
    You're faking it just as we are."

    "Not completely." The owl blinked. A thin transparent eyelid swept across his eye. Soren knew about these winking eyelids. His parents had told him that when he began to fly, he would find them useful, for they would keep his eyes clear in flight and protect them from any airborne bits of debris. But Grimble was not in flight. No, Grimble was hardly moving. So why was his wink lid flickering madly? Then Soren noticed huge tears gathering at the far