The Coming of Hoole (8 page)

“
A
stranger, you say, Phineas?” Grank asked. “What did he look like.”

“It wasn’t a he. It was a she. A gadfeather, and beneath all those things they always wear, I think she was a Spotted Owl.”

“A Spotted Owl!” Grank said and lofted himself off his perch in alarm.

Phineas was now alarmed himself. “You told me that if I ever saw a strange owl in these parts I should come and tell you immediately.”

“You did right, young’un. You did right!”

Then at that very moment they heard a shrill cry coming from the cove.

“Theo! Come quick,” Grank called. “You stay here, Phineas. It’s too dangerous for a small owl like you.”

Hoole didn’t know what was happening. A large owl was flying directly toward him and the other, a Great
Horned—but not Theo—was flying toward the gadfeather.

“What’s happening?” he cried out. He did not see that still another Great Horned was flying toward him.

“Fly!” the gadfeather screamed again.

But it was too late. Strange little flying creatures had darted out from under the wings of the Great Horned who was attacking him.

“Meebla yeben yip,” said the Great Horned Owl.

What was this strange language she was speaking? And now that he saw her up close she didn’t really look like a Great Horned. Her feathers were raggedy and almost black. One of the small creatures attending her flew up to him and pricked him in the wing. Instantly, he felt his wings lose their power.
I am going yeep,
Hoole thought.
Uncle Grank told me about going yeep, but I never thought it would happen to me.
He crumpled to the ground on his back. Opening his eyes wide, he saw the Great Horned bending over him. A strange yellow light was pouring like a liquid river of gold from her eyes. Then her dark beak was coming closer and closer. “Open wide, my darling, open wide.” Her talon was coming straight for his eye.

Hoole saw the Spotted Owl flying straight down, her talons set to rake the back of the Great Horned who was leaning over him. Suddenly, another Great Horned, the
mate of this one, appeared from behind the Spotted. He heard a sound like the clank of Theo’s hammer and above him there was chaos. Complete chaos.

“MOTHER!” Hoole screamed and that was the last he remembered. The world went blank, not dark, but blank.

The brothers had suspected right from the start that the Spotted Owl who called herself Elka was not who she said she was. She wasn’t a gadfeather. Of this the Snow Rose was also fairly sure. When Elka had replied with that peculiar remark to Brother Fritzel about the pilgrim brother being so daring, she was absolutely certain. Nonetheless, the Snow Rose had grown fond of the Spotted Owl and admired how she had flown so boldly and without complaint despite her maimed port wing. Gadfeathers, however, never pried. It was not in their nature. At least the Snow Rose thought so until she found herself flying toward the southern tip of the island.
Why am I doing this?
she thought.
Why? Gadfeathers are not supposed to have any attachments.
But she had seen Elka fly off into that rolling cloud bank during her concert. Ever since that night she noticed that Elka would often slip away, giving no explanation. Not only that, Elka had grown progressively quieter and withdrawn into her own thoughts. So,
determined to find out what was drawing her away, on this night the Snow Rose decided to follow her.

She stayed a good distance behind so she would not be detected and when she came to the cove she found a leftover bank of snow that provided her with the perfect camouflage. Standing straight and very still, she stretched upward and compressed her plumage, blending perfectly into the snowbank. With one eye opened a fraction of a slit, she had been observing the strange interactions between Elka and the young Spotted Owl.

What is going on here?
she thought as she saw the young Spotted Owl grow more anxious, demanding that Elka come with him. Then suddenly two large Great Horned Owls appeared on the opposite side of the cove. That was when Elka shreed, “Ygryk!” and the tranquillity of the cove had been shattered. The two stranger owls swooped down on Elka and the young one.

At the precise moment that Hoole screamed “MOTHER!” a white mass of feathers laced through with bits of twigs and berries—the Snow Rose—shot across the cove like a hurling ice devil blown off a ridge of the H’rathghar glacier. White feathers spun up in the night as she collided with Pleek. Then there was a swirl of feathers—tawny ones of a Great Horned, the rich brown of a Spotted Owl, and the gleaming black of a hagsfiend!
Four owls tumbled through the air in a knot of fury as Pleek, the Snow Rose, Siv, and Ygryk fought high above the cove.

The Snow Rose blinked and staggered briefly in flight.
Great Glaux!
A hagsfiend had appeared exactly where a Great Horned had been an instant before.

And Pleek was now plunging down from above the cove in a death spiral with his talons extended toward the Snow Rose. Suddenly, there was a bright gleam in the night, and Pleek was knocked out of the spiral. The Snow Rose peeled off in flight. She flipped her head back to see what was happening and gasped as she saw blood coursing down the Great Horned’s face into his eyes. Above him was another owl who had the strangest talons. But they were not talons. They were more like claws and appeared much sharper, shining brightly in the night. As bright as the fyngrot the hagsfiend was now desperately trying to cast upon Theo, armed with battle claws.

The Snow Rose looked around for Elka. Where was she?

Phineas flew down to Hoole and tried to drag him to safety as above him four owls clashed in the night.

The older Spotted Owl, Grank, suddenly flew in the face of the hagsfiend and, shouting in the strange language of half-hags, said, “H’blen b’shrieek micht garmish schmoot.”
The hagsfiend’s wings began to fold and from underneath them the tiny half-hags fell into the cove’s water. The hagsfiend herself looked down in horror.

Then the Snow Rose witnessed something she had never in all her life seen before. The wounded Great Horned, Pleek, dived toward the water. Just as the hagsfiend’s wing dipped into the cove, he pulled her free. The Great Horned Owl with the strange talons tore off after them.

“Let them go, Theo,” Grank called. “Let them go. They won’t get far. Help me over here.” Then he turned his attention to Hoole. “Let me see your eyes, Hoole. Can you open your eyes? Can you see?” Grank’s voice trembled with terror.

Of course, I can open my eyes,
Hoole thought.
Why is he going on about my eyes?
Hoole blinked. He had never in his short life seen Grank look so terrible. His beak quivered, his eyes were filled with a dark amber terror. “What’s wrong with you?”

Grank uttered a strange noise halfway between a sob and a gulp from deep inside his throat. “Glaux bless, she didn’t get one,” Grank said with relief drenching his voice.

“One what?” Hoole asked.

“Your eye. An old hagsfiend charm. It must have been Ygryk who attacked you.”

Hoole was now fully alert. “Where did she go?”

“Don’t worry,” Grank said. “The hagsfiend will never last. Pleek can’t support her that long in flight. He’ll drop her into the sea.”

“I don’t know what a hagsfiend is. I want to know where my mother went.”

“Your mother?” Grank was stunned.

“I told you I saw a Spotted Owl,” Phineas said, lighting down next to Grank.

“What are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay back. You aren’t big enough.”

“I’m big enough to have seen that Spotted Owl Hoole is talking about and how she attacked the Great Horned. Right before Theo came in and then a Snowy hurled out of nowhere.”

“She was here?” Grank spoke in a dazed voice. His gizzard was in a complete twirl.

“Her name is Elka.” The Snow Rose flew down from the spruce she had been perched in.

“I don’t care what her name is. She’s my mother and I want her.”

“Oh, Great Glaux!” Grank tipped his head up and shook it.

There wasn’t a breeze. The surface of the cove’s water was like a mirror and floating on top—scattered like
dead insects—were the bodies of half-hags. Their poison had already begun to contaminate the cove. Fish were floating to the top, gasping for air. But the five owls paid no heed.

The Snow Rose wondered why Elka has vanished so suddenly.

Theo stared forlornly at the blood on his battle claws, his gizzard in deep anguish.
But had there been a real choice?
he wondered.

Hoole kept blinking his eyes.
Why would anyone want to blind me?

Grank had composed himself. He would say nothing of the true identity of the owl who called herself Elka. His only thoughts were about leaving. They had to leave and leave fast. He turned to Theo, Phineas, and Hoole. “We must all of us fly—fly away from here. Others might be coming. The war is too close now.” Then turning to the Snow Rose he said, “You are welcome to join us, friend.” The Snow Rose dipped her head, abashed and delighted. No owl who was not a gadfeather had ever called her “friend” before. Not even Elka. But she shook her head. “No, I still have some wandering to do. But thank you, thank you ever so much.”

“Think nothing of it,” Grank replied.

But she would think much of it. She would remember
that someone who was not a gadfeather had called her “friend.”

“But I want my mother to come back,” Hoole said.

“If she found you here, she will find you again, Hoole. But it is far too dangerous for us to remain here. We must go now. We cannot delay another second.”

“But where are we going?” Hoole asked

“To Beyond the Beyond,” Grank replied. He swiveled his head to the south and blinked as if he could see that distant fiery land.

“To the Beyond!” Theo gasped, hardly disguising his excitement. Grank had told him so much about the Beyond and their fires. Finally, he would be going to that land where Grank had learned to dive into the fires of the volcano and retrieve coals. Grank referred to himself as a collier, or carrier of coals. He was the only owl who could do this. He had promised someday to teach Theo. But he often would say that colliering was a waste of time for Theo, who was so gifted in the art of blacksmithing. “I would hate to see you squander your talents, lad. If I am the first collier in the world of owls, you are certainly the first blacksmith. I shall bring you all the coals you’ll ever need and you shall make tools you have yet to dream of. Not just weapons, Theo.”

At last, thought Theo, they would be going to that
land of coals. Coals and embers of infinite variety with which they could build fires of all kinds of intensities in which he could smith metal into all sorts of tools. Theo knew that time was of the essence now. Had it really been Queen Siv who had attacked the Great Horned? Had she told Hoole that she was his mother? All these questions raced through Theo’s mind.

His thoughts were interrupted now by Phineas, who was telling Grank that he, too, must go to the Beyond.

“Don’t tell me I’m too small to go that far. I can fly as well as any of you.”

“I want him to come,” Hoole said firmly. “If I can’t have my mother, I want my best friend.”

Phineas’s eyes sparkled as Hoole said this. “Am I really your best friend, Hoole?”

“Yes,” Hoole said and then suddenly swiveled his head toward Theo. “Theo, you’re not just a friend, you’re like my big brother. No, not like. You are.” Hoole paused. “And, Grank, if you were not here, I would miss you as much as I am now missing my mother. You are both mother and father to me.”
Brother Berwyck was right,
he thought.
I do have enough love for everyone.

“But how do you know, young’un, that this Spotted Owl is really your mother?” Grank had expected Hoole to say something like “I just know it” or “I feel it in my
gizzard.” But he said neither. “I saw it in the fire, Uncle Grank.” Grank was stunned. He leaned in closer to Hoole. “You saw it in the fire?”

Hoole nodded.

“What did you see in the fire? When?”

“I should have told you, but one day when I was flying over the fire in the forge, something caught my eye in the flames—a shape. And there was something in that shape that made me feel wonderful. It drew me to it. But I didn’t want to go see it any closer until I could do it alone. Theo was working with his tongs. So I sneaked out when you were both sleeping.” He blinked at Grank. It was the kind of blink young owls often gave when they were slightly ashamed, when they were caught being disobedient.

“Go on, lad,” Grank said in a gentle tone.

“Well, I just knew that this shape, this thing was coming for me. It made me feel all warm inside. I felt this terrible longing. I knew that I would never be whole until she came. Even though I wasn’t sure what it was, what the shape was, I knew it was a she, that I belonged to her and she belonged to me. I would be made complete when she came. So every dawn I snuck down and watched the flames.”

“I see now,” Grank began to speak slowly. “I see now why it happened.”

“Why what happened? Are you angry, Uncle Grank?”

“No, lad. It’s just that you are a fire reader—like me. Only your vision is stronger, much stronger, and that is why there were no images left for me to read in the flames.”

“I’m sorry, Uncle Grank. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Don’t be sorry, lad. You have a gift. You can read deep into the flames.”

“Fire reader?” Phineas said.

“Never heard of such a thing.” The Snow Rose looked at Theo as if for an explanation.

But Theo could say nothing. He was just looking at Hoole and remembering the peculiar luminosity of the egg from which this owl had hatched. This owl, this prince was special. If there was any creature on earth who could save the N’yrthghar and quell the hagsfiends and their poisonous magic, it must be Hoole. But for now he must not know that he is a prince and a future king. No one must know. They must fly immediately to the Beyond.
Yes,
thought Theo,
and like the metals I work with in my fires, young Hoole will be tempered and wrought into a king.