sacred this, the blah-blah that - and I was actual y enjoying it for a while. I got to wear that scrap of purple velvet tufted with ermine, and I felt so special." "You are special, Plonkie."
"It's my voice that was special and now it's cracked."
There was a fluttering outside the hol ow and the shadow of wings passed through the stream of moonlight. Bubo looked around nervously and then leaned in close to the Snowy so that his beak was almost touching her ear slit. "Plonkie, are you real y set on doing this?"
"I am, Bubo."
117 chapter seventeen
The Shape Of the Flames
Awing and a whisper, thought Soren. Is that al
we've got? Yes. That seemed to be what he, the
Band, and Coryn were flying on. It was al too vague. He wanted to be able to trust the strange rabbit's mystic web readings, but it just al seemed so ... so ... he searched for the word ... so wispy. So insubstantial. And if Nyra was real y there in this cave with whatever remnants of the Pure Ones there might be, things needed to be firmer. They had to plan a strategy. What were they to do? just fly in and seize the book? Even if they were successful in taking the book, would that be the end of their troubles? It wasn't real y the book that was the problem. It was, Soren supposed, the ideas in the book. But ideas could be dangerous just the way the ember could be dangerous in the talons of the wrong owl. He supposed they must fly on. Within a split second of having that thought, he knew he was dead wrong. And as if to confirm his next thought he saw the dark tendrils of smoke rising in the distance.
118 130 Soren lifted a port wing, giving the signal to land. They had flown fast from Silverveil and were now on the border between The Barrens and Ambala.
Ambala.
"What are we stopping for? I'm not tired,' Coryn asked as they settled into one of the rather puny trees in The Barrens. But Gylfie took one look at Soren and realized immediately that something was disturbing him deeply. The spindly branch could barely support the weight of the five owls and bowed toward the ground,
"Brushfire over there half a league away." Digger nodded toward the rol ing smudge of smoke on the horizon.
"I know," Soren said. "That's part of the reason we've stopped."
"What's the other part?" Gylfie asked. She fixed her old friend with a knowing look. "We're rushing into this."
"What do you mean?' Coryn asked. His voice was slightly strained. "That was one of the clearest readings I've ever gotten from the rabbit." "You've encountered that rabbit al of two times, Coryn," Soren said. "We need more information. I want to dive into that brushfire. Get some coals and
build a smal fire here."
Coryn looked somberly at his uncle. "You know I can't just simply ask a fire. That's not how it works." 119 131 "I know, Coryn, I know. I don't want you to ask anything. I only want you to
watch - just watch. There are hot coals in these brushfires. They'l give you good flames." Gylfie sighed. "Except for you. and Coryn, the rest of us won't be much help in harvesting coals. We're hardly col iers. Too bad Otulissa isn't here." Soren jerked his head up. He felt a sharp ping in his gizzard and blinked at Gylfie. The moment she said the words "too bad Otulissa isn't here" it reminded him of something.
"What's wrong. Soren?" Gylfie asked. He shook his head as if to dislodge a thought that had become wedged deep in his brain. "When you said 'Otulissa' it reminded me of something." Another wisp? A wisp of a dream perhaps?
An hour later, the five owls backed away from a
smal fire that they had built with the half dozen or so coals that Soren and Coryn had retrieved. Coryn stood the closest to the fire. He felt clumsy, even stupid. The flames looked so ordinary. This wasn't right. He spun his head around final y. "I don't mean to be rude, but the rest of you get out of here. Scram. I can't do it when you're watching me." "Of course," Soren said. "We'l go hunting." Once they were gone, Coryn relaxed. He let the
"It's my voice that was special and now it's cracked."
There was a fluttering outside the hol ow and the shadow of wings passed through the stream of moonlight. Bubo looked around nervously and then leaned in close to the Snowy so that his beak was almost touching her ear slit. "Plonkie, are you real y set on doing this?"
"I am, Bubo."
117 chapter seventeen
The Shape Of the Flames
Awing and a whisper, thought Soren. Is that al
we've got? Yes. That seemed to be what he, the
Band, and Coryn were flying on. It was al too vague. He wanted to be able to trust the strange rabbit's mystic web readings, but it just al seemed so ... so ... he searched for the word ... so wispy. So insubstantial. And if Nyra was real y there in this cave with whatever remnants of the Pure Ones there might be, things needed to be firmer. They had to plan a strategy. What were they to do? just fly in and seize the book? Even if they were successful in taking the book, would that be the end of their troubles? It wasn't real y the book that was the problem. It was, Soren supposed, the ideas in the book. But ideas could be dangerous just the way the ember could be dangerous in the talons of the wrong owl. He supposed they must fly on. Within a split second of having that thought, he knew he was dead wrong. And as if to confirm his next thought he saw the dark tendrils of smoke rising in the distance.
118 130 Soren lifted a port wing, giving the signal to land. They had flown fast from Silverveil and were now on the border between The Barrens and Ambala.
Ambala.
"What are we stopping for? I'm not tired,' Coryn asked as they settled into one of the rather puny trees in The Barrens. But Gylfie took one look at Soren and realized immediately that something was disturbing him deeply. The spindly branch could barely support the weight of the five owls and bowed toward the ground,
"Brushfire over there half a league away." Digger nodded toward the rol ing smudge of smoke on the horizon.
"I know," Soren said. "That's part of the reason we've stopped."
"What's the other part?" Gylfie asked. She fixed her old friend with a knowing look. "We're rushing into this."
"What do you mean?' Coryn asked. His voice was slightly strained. "That was one of the clearest readings I've ever gotten from the rabbit." "You've encountered that rabbit al of two times, Coryn," Soren said. "We need more information. I want to dive into that brushfire. Get some coals and
build a smal fire here."
Coryn looked somberly at his uncle. "You know I can't just simply ask a fire. That's not how it works." 119 131 "I know, Coryn, I know. I don't want you to ask anything. I only want you to
watch - just watch. There are hot coals in these brushfires. They'l give you good flames." Gylfie sighed. "Except for you. and Coryn, the rest of us won't be much help in harvesting coals. We're hardly col iers. Too bad Otulissa isn't here." Soren jerked his head up. He felt a sharp ping in his gizzard and blinked at Gylfie. The moment she said the words "too bad Otulissa isn't here" it reminded him of something.
"What's wrong. Soren?" Gylfie asked. He shook his head as if to dislodge a thought that had become wedged deep in his brain. "When you said 'Otulissa' it reminded me of something." Another wisp? A wisp of a dream perhaps?
An hour later, the five owls backed away from a
smal fire that they had built with the half dozen or so coals that Soren and Coryn had retrieved. Coryn stood the closest to the fire. He felt clumsy, even stupid. The flames looked so ordinary. This wasn't right. He spun his head around final y. "I don't mean to be rude, but the rest of you get out of here. Scram. I can't do it when you're watching me." "Of course," Soren said. "We'l go hunting." Once they were gone, Coryn relaxed. He let the
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