Book 12 - The Golden Tree (7 page)

"The nature of hagsfiends as we know them has
changed over hundreds and thousands of years. Most of us in this modern age have had an encounter with one, but they are powerless wisps that appear but rarely, usual y when we are flying and are extremely tired. They are the crows of the night, which makes some kind of sense, since it was original y proposed that they were some sort of mistake of natural history appearing mil ions of years ago when birds first separated into different species - a mishmash of things that never quite sorted itself out. In the ancient times of nachtmagen, they were quite dangerous."
Soren coughed. "If I might interrupt. That is precisely my point. This is a different era. There is no evidence that
75 87 Nyra is anything more than a bad, evil owl. My own brother, your lather, Kludd, was a bad, evil owl."
"'But my mothers face is monstrously large, unusual y large for' a Barn Owl, and so is mine." "It is not faces, not color,, not appearances that

matter. That was the essence of the Pure On-;'
stupidity. They believed that Barn Owls were a superior species of owls. Such reasoning discounted everything" else," Soren said fiercely. Coryn now blinked his eyes tightly shut for several seconds. "Al rip-fit. I wil agree with you that there is no evidence. And until now. or at least very recently, I was wrongly obsessed with my identity. Had I inherited this terrible legacy? It haunted me constantly. I realize now that was wrong of me It was self-indulgent and inappropriate for a leader, let alone a king. But there is something else that I discovered when I sneaked, off."
Soren s gizzard had just started to settle down, but a new turmoil now roiled within in it. "What is it?" he said. Dread seemed to tremble on the edge of those three simple words.
"There is a book, It is in the possession of Trader Mags."
"Yes, and what is the book?" Gylfie said slowly. "On its cover is a design."

88 '"A design of what, for Glaux's sake?" Twilight
fumed.
"A puffowl."
The four members of the Band were suddenly struck dumb.
"Listen to me careful y, now, coryn said. Soren blinked and looked at his nephew. This is a king speaking. Not a self-absorbed young owl having an identity crisis.
"We know from reading the legends that Kreeth died in that last battle, in the battle for the Ice Palace. Duncan MacDuncan, the wolf, kil ed, her. We know that she never mated. Never had
offspring. Therefore her line of hags-fiends died out. But we al know that ideas, good or evil, have longer lives than we mere mortals. It is proven by our libraries, and the libraries at the. Palace of Mists. And so this book in which Kreeth wrote her formulas and her fiendish thoughts exists and has existed throughout the centuries." Coryn paused. He saw a mixture of fear and confusion in the four owls' eyes.

"I would have tried to bargain for it. But it's a big
book. And I didn't have, my botkin. There was no way I could have carried it by myself." '"But it's just words," Twilight said defiantly, "Words, as you wel know, can be powerful,' Digger replied, "What are you petting at. Coryn?" "You are right. If Kreeth's words have managed to 89 survive al these years, even if this book had remained unknown, hidden away, lost, might not some monstrous remnant of her experiments survived in some form or another? And now that the ember has been retrieved we al know that with it comes the possibility for good magic and bad, or nachtmagen. Yes, those hagsfiends that we have al encountered like wisps from a bad dream are impotent. However, they are but one form. Now that the ember is back, there is the possibility that nachtmagen wil strengthen these impotent, powerless hagsfiends.'
Especial y, Soren thought, if they had the book of the arch hagsfiend, Krceth.

"So you are saying that Nyra could be
transformed - if indeed she lives." Soren looked hard at his nephew.
"Wasn't she bad enough already?" Twilight asked. "Maybe," Coryn said, "haggishness is like a disease, which lies dormant for years upon years and when the conditions are. right begins to flourish again."
Flourish, thought Soren. He was beginning to despise the word. The great tree now so often cal ed the Golden Tree was said to flourish magnificently. But when Soren thought of those shimmering limbs with their sparkling leaves, he imagined them reaching up to and piercing the ether veil of the owl universe.
78 90 Oh, how Soren longed for the days when the Golden Tree was just the great tree. Was that wrong? Was it treasonous to think this way? The world had seemed so dangerous back then. But it was a danger one could see. Pure Ones were Pure Ones. Flecks were flecks. St. Aggie's thugs were ...

wel ... St. Aggie's thugs. You knew who the enemy
was. You had an idea of where it might lurk. But this was entirely different. Nyra was not real y the enemy. She was merely an agent, the instrument through which an ancient kind of evil, nachtmagen, could be made possible. Nachtmagen itself was the enemy, and how could you fight that?
79 CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Ether Veil
Soren flew in a luminous golden light. He felt his white face gilded by it, and when he looked down he saw that his white-feathered legs appeared to have been dipped in gold. At that moment he noticed a tiny silver glint like a minuscule fracture in the golden light al about him. He felt his gizzard freeze. His wings grow heavy. A slit! A tiny slit in the ether veil. Then he saw another and another. The slits widened, the tips of haggish black feathers began to push through. Suddenly, the golden light bristled with black points. This is not budging. This

is not the same as when our primaries begin to
emerge. This is the ether veil shredding! "Don't wait for me!" a familiar voice screamed. "I am beyond al help! Go! Go! They're back!"
Who? Who is that screaming in my dream? Soren thought. Then, I am going yeep. Yeep in my own dream. The owl world dies!
"Soren, wake up! Wake up!" Gylfie was flying up and down in front of his face and batting the air with her tiny
80 92 wings trying to bring him out of his dream. How many times have I done this? she thought. But since he was known to have starsight. Soren and his dreams were not to be ignored. The owls were now al awake. Gylfie turned to them as she continued to fan Soren with her wings. "Bad dream."
"Uh-oh!" Twilight said. He shook his head violently, spinning it this way and that, as if to clear his head of grogginess. "Like we haven't had enough bad news already."

"Just put a mouse in it, Twilight." Gylfie scowled.
Then she turned to Soren. "You awake now?" "Yes." Although as was usual y the case he could not remember any details of the dream. "We have to find that book." This was the only thing he could say.
"Where do we start?" Digger asked. "Find Trader Mags, of course," Coryn said. "She doesn't like visitors," Gylfie said. "She always thinks they're trying to get a discount." "Yeah, wel , she adds on such, a huge transport charge. It's ridiculous." Twilight, huffed. "Is she stil in that chapel ruin?" Digger asked. "I would imagine so," Soren replied. "What time is it now?" he said, peering out of the hol ow. The sun flared red through the trees.
"Stil a while until tween time and then another half hour til First Black."

81 93 Sorn peered out. "We'l go at First
Lavender."
Owls were keenly aware of every shade in the changing spectrum of a rising and setting sun for each season of the year. Tween time was the last drop of sun before first shadows of twilight, which at this time of year were a frail lavender color. The Owls waited impatiently in silence as they watched the sun set.
"Al right "Soren said. "We're off". Five owls flew out of the fir tree hol ow, Soren with Coryn at his side. As soon as they were clear of the tree they rearranged themselves into a tightly packed formation. Twilight flew point Coryn to starboard, Sorer to port. Digger flew tail position and Gyfie was in the center. Twilight was always the lead owl in conditions of dramatical y changing light. He had an extraordinary ability to see in that silvery border between day an night - at twilight when the boundaries became dim and the very shapes of things seemed to melt away.
Coryn could not help but think how different this

was from their fight across the Sea of Hoolemere
when they had cold wet poop jokes, laughed, and even sung. It's al so different now, Coryn thought. How horrible to think that the terrible book was in the same world as they were. What was
happening? He was king, but how could he 94 fight hagsfiends or whatever monstrosities had slipped through the ether veil? He knew in his gizzard that was what Soren had dreamed of. It must have been a terrible dream. Why, he wondered, had this not happened when Hoole was king? Had he, Coryn, done something wrong? Was it because he was the child of Nyra and Kludd? Al these thoughts ran through Coryn's head as they flew on toward the chapel of Trader Mags. 83 CHAPTER TWELVE
A Visit With Trader Mags
Book? What book? You know I deal with so many articles. I got me a large inventory these days, Soren, dearie."

Twilight stepped forward, his plumage bristling so
much that he seemed to swel to half again his normal size. "Drop the dearies, sweetheart. We know you ain't no scholar. You don't get that many books running through this outfit of yours." "Oh, beggin' your pardon, sir." Bubbles, a smal er magpie, lighted down on the stone floor next to her boss. "'Them books don't run. Don't fly, neither. No, they more or less flutter. Their pages, that is." "Shut your frinkin' beak!" Trader Mags' shril , squawk echoed through the clupel, rousing the last clutch of snoozing bats from the rafters. Soren felt a slight, tremor pass through his gizzard. Ever since that one bloody night in St. Aggie's long before his flight feathers had fledged,
96 the sight of bats had made him feel weak. The owls of St. Aggie's had a savage practice in which they would summon flocks of vampire bats to suck the blood from young owls on the brink of fledging. The bats would take just enough blood to quel the owls' desire to fly. Now Soren Twilight, and Trader Mags, purveyor of fine goods, stood in a pool of

crimson light reflected from the remains of a rose-
colored stained-glass window through which the moon shined. The light, the leathery flap of the bats' wings transported him back to that bloody night so long ago. He shook his head. His patience with Mags was wearing thin.
"Look, Mags, enough of this. We know you had the book. It was reported seen at a grog tree." "By a slipgizzle?" she said in a more timid voice now.
"Precisely," Digger said, walking forward on his long featherless legs. "A slipgizzle of the king's." "Oh, I see," Trader Mags said primly, and readjusted the jaunty bandanna that covered one eye.
The king perched, unnoticed, in a shadowy corner of the chapel.
"Yes," she said, sighing, "there was a book. Big old thing despite, the fact that some of its pages were missing. An old soldier, I think, wanted it. He had to carry it off in a

85 97 botkin." Coryn felt a twinge in his gizzard.
Soldier? What soldier?
"What soldier?" Soren said aloud, echoing Coryn's thoughts.
"Wel , soldier or hireclaw, not sure. But hireclaw most likely," Mags replied.
"What did he look like?" Twilight asked. Mags hesitated. Twilight swel ed now until he looked like a feathery cloud-streaked moon rol ed down from the sky. "C'mon! C'mon! Make it snappy."
Any trace of composure Trader Mags possessed now vanished. Her beak began clacking nervously. "I c-c-can't say. I can't say," she stammered. "Can't or won't?" Twilight said sharply. Mags wheeled around to Soren and looked at him beseechingly with her tiny, piercing black eyes. Soren remained impassive. In a flash, Twilight tore off the bandanna. The owls gasped. A bald spot in the magnificent glistening black plumage was

revealed. Trader Mags shrieked.
"Cover her up. Give her back the bandanna! For Glaux's sake," Soren ordered.
"Don't, be such a thug. Twilight." Gylfie scolded. "We need some answers here," Twilight shot back. 86 98 "Oh, that hireclaw, he was a thug al right," Trader Mags muttered.
"Oh, ma'am, I be so sorry," Bubbles broke in, gushing with sympathy. "Never knew you got the feather blight. And on your head! How unfortunate," she said, picking up the bandanna to give to her boss.
"Better bald than brainless, you twit!" Trader Mags lashed out at the smal er magpie with one wing and swatted her across the floor. She then turned to Soren. "He didn't give a name. I can only tel you that he was an unusual y large Barn Owl." Coryn. felt a turbulence mounting in his gizzard. "Any distinguishing characteristics? Marks?" Don't say it! Don't say it! he thought.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. A large nick out of his
beak."
She had said it. She might as wel have shouted his name out loud. Stryker! One of Nyra's top lieutenants. Lieutenant Major Stryker of the Pure Ones, and he had received that wound in the Battle of the Burning. Trader Mags, of course, did not know his name or much else about him aside from the nick in his beak.
"I don't know," she said repeatedly to each question as it was asked. "I don't know where he flew in from.... No, Gylfie, no idea where he was going."
87 99 "Did he talk much?"
"Not real y."
"Did he know Krakish?" Digger asked. "What in hagsmire is Krakish?" Trader Mags asked. "The language of the Northern Kingdoms,"Soren replied.
"I don't know if he knew it," she paused, "But..."

"But what?" Twilight pressed.
She looked at him nastily. Then spat the words out. "He didn't have to know much freakish." "Krakish," Gylfie corrected. "Why not?" '"Cause there wasn't many words in that book. Mostly pictures. Worst, ugliest pictures you ever seen. To tel the truth, I was glad to get rid of the frinkin' thing."
"Wel ." Soren sighed, realizing that getting more information was a lost cause. "You've been most helpful, Mags. I'm sorry about the bandanna." She had retied it on her head and looked up
beseechingly. "You won't go tel ing now about me bald spot, wil ya. Soren? It'd just tear me up somethin' fierce."
"No, of course not."
"You know, Mags, if you took off that bandanna some of the time and let the air get at it, your feathers might come back," Gylfie offered.

88 100 "I'm attached to it," she said without a
trace of sentiment in her voice, and looked furiously at Twilight with her beady black eyes. Then she turned to the others. "Are you sure I can't interest you in something? You know, I found this new site. And I got me some lovely porcelain things back in the sacristy. Bubbles, go fetch them demi-tasse cups."
Soren felt obliged to at least look at the wares after having caused her so much trouble and embarrassment. Maybe he could bring back a present for the three Bs, as his chicks were sometimes cal ed. They were always wanting presents when he came back from hunting. It seemed like just bringing in a vole was not quite sufficient these days. Bubbles arrived with a botkin, and Mags drew from it several little cups. "They ain't teacups exactly. They cal s them demitasses. At least, so Madame Plonk tel s me. Now, mind you, they ain't as big and as fancy as that lovely coronation teacup of Madame Plonk's. But they be awful y pretty. So dainty, ain't they?" Soren could imagine Basha, Blythe, and Bel