The Capture

peace of mind you should make sure. We can start for there tonight."

    "Yes, I suppose you're right."

    "You'll never be at peace if you don't know for sure," Twilight added.

    At peace? Soren thought. Am I at peace now? And it was as if a tiny sliver of ice had burrowed into his gizzard, for Soren knew only one thing for sure, which was that the two owls who had loved him most in all the world were gone, gone far away, and he was far from feeling peaceful.

    They would sleep for the rest of this day and begin their desert flight at night. Nights were the best for desert flights, Twilight said, especially in the time of the dwenking. Soren was too tired to ask why. Too tired to hear some long explanation of Twilight's. Twilight seemed to know an awful lot and liked talking about it, always weaving in some story of a narrow escape or something that pointed up his extreme cleverness. But Soren was simply too tired to listen this morning. "Good light," he said in a small voice.

    "Good light, Soren," Gylfie said.

    "Good light, Soren and Gylfie," Twilight said.

    "Good light, Twilight," Soren and Gylfie both said together.

    Soren was soon asleep in the hollow. It felt good to sleep in a hollow, even if it was an empty one, with his head tucked under his wing in a normal sleeping position.

    Then a voice, a familiar voice, pierced his sleep. He felt himself frozen and unable to move. It was as if he had gone yeep, his wings locked. Was he dreaming or sleeping? It was Grimble's voice. They were back in the library of St. Aggie's. Soren was madly pumping his wings. "Go! This is your chance," the voice cried. And then a terrible shriek. "Don't look back. Don't look back." But they did.

    "Wake up, wake up! You two are both having terrible dreams. Wake up." It was Twilight shaking them.
    Soren and Gylfie awoke together with the same terrible image of a torn owl, bleeding and mortally wounded.

    "It's Grimble," Gylfie said. "He's dead."

    "I know. We both dreamed the same dream but... but... but, Gylfie, it was just a dream. Grimble might be fine."

    "No," Gylfie said slowly. "No. I tried not to look but I caught a glimpse. The torn wings, his head at a weird angle." Gylfie's voice dwindled into the first dim gray of the coming night.

    "Why didn't you say anything?"

    "Because," she hesitated. It sounded so stupid, but it was the truth. "Because I was flying. I had just felt that first soft cushion of air beneath my wings. I was about to soar and I forgot everything. I was just wings ... and ..."

    Soren understood. It was not stupid. It was just the way they were. In the moment Grimble had died, they had become what they were always intended to be. Their destiny had been rendered. Flight was theirs.

    "Well, buck up, you two," Twilight said gruffly. "I want to leave at first black. That will be in minutes. So it should be a perfect night for flying to Kuneer. And let me tell you, there is nothing, simply nothing, like desert flying. And you two can get in some hunting practice. Nice juicy snakes they have in Kuneer."

    "I don't eat snakes," Soren said tersely.

    "Oh, racdrops!" Twilight muttered under his breath. This owl was finicky. He mustered all the patience he could. "You don't eat snakes? Kindly explain."

    "Well," said Gylfie. "You don't eat foxes."

    Twilight blinked. "It's an entirely different situation. Few owls do eat foxes anyway. But snakes -- snakes are a basic owl food. Look, I can't handle this kind of stuff. Are you stark-raving yoicks? Don't eat snakes.
    When I was your age I ate anything. Anything to keep me alive and flying. What do you mean you don't eat snakes? What owl doesn't eat snakes?"

    "He doesn't," Gylfie said calmly. "It's a family thing. They had an old nest-maid who was a snake, a kind of nursemaid, as well, for the young ones, so it's out of respect for her, Mrs. Plithiver." Soren was touched that Gylfie remembered Mrs. Plithiver's name.

    "And as much as I would love to see Mrs. Plithiver, I surely hope she does not hear our conversation,"
    Soren added.

    Twilight blinked and shook his head in an exaggerated manner and muttered something about coddled owls and the orphan school of tough learning. "Nest-maids? Nursemaids?" His head seemed to spin around entirely on his neck as he walked out to the end of the branch, muttering to himself and punching the air with his talons in frustration. "Unbelievable! Bless my sweet gizzard. Next thing they'll be telling me is that they had another owl