heat
120 132 of the flames lick his face, He closed his eyes and watched the red shadows dance jigs on the inside of his eyelids, then opened them again. The moon was rising. More than halfway through its newing, it appeared slightly lopsided, as if it were about to tumble off the horizon. When it was ful in a few more days, there would be an eclipse according to Gylfie, who knew the ways of the stars and the planets because she was the navigation ryb. Coryn had been hatched on the night of an eclipse. And so had Hoole, the king of the legends,
and so had Nyra. He felt a shiver pass through him.
How could the world contain such good and such bad?
And what was he? What if the blood of a
hagsfiend real y did run through his veins? His mind wandered. The flames cast red silhouettes against the moon that trembled now on the darkening horizon. Odd, but he suddenly realized that he had never seen the flames in just this manner - their silhouettes as opposed to looking directly at them. He could not look into them as deeply, but their contours, their shapes had a new clarity. He saw the shape of an owl. A Whiskered Screech, he was certain. He could tel by the smal tuft of feathers that hung from his face. He was not especial y strong nor a steady flier, and what was that - a nest-maid snake coiled on his back? A wind stirred the fire and the flames leaped
121 133 suddenly to one side, stretching, nearly gal oping across the silver of the moon. His gizzard gave a smal jump. Something so familiar in that shape, but just then low clouds brushed across the moon. "Racdrops!" Coryn muttered, and dropped his gaze to the flames in the fire. Could he find it
there? It was the second shape, the second
silhouette that intrigued him, and not that of the Whiskered Screech. There was something in that shape, and he was sure that it was not an owl this time that tugged at his very' gizzard. He felt a longing, a deep and anguished longing - for a place? For a creature? He peered deeply into the flames. There are so many different colors in a fire no one would believe it, thought Coryn. There is never just red or orange. Coryn had heard that there were no two snow-flakes exactly alike, and he believed that no two flames were alike, either. He had once tried to count the shades of orange, but at some imperceptible point the orange seemed to melt into yel ow, and then within the yel ow... Coryn's gizzard flinched. A lovely shade of cream! Soren was right - they were rushing into things. They should not be flying toward the canyonlands at al . They needed an immediate course correction. Coryn had only seen that peculiar cream color once before, and not in a fire but in the Beyond. It was on the glossy coat of a dire wolf. "Gyl bane!" 122
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Most Distressing News
It was a long way to the Beyond, but luckily once again the wind blew from behind and gave them a hefty push north and west. The night was thinning. The moon had slipped away into another world, and it was becoming that hazy time before the dawn. As they shifted positions in their flight formation so that Twilight could fly point in this murky light streaked with false shadows and blurred horizons, Soren could feel the tremor of excitement that coursed through their gizzards. They were at last to meet Gyl bane, the courageous she-wolf, who had turned on her own clan, the notorious MacHeaths. and befriended Coryn. Her own pup had been maimed by Lord MacHeath in hopes that this would qualify the young wolf to become a member of the Sacred Watch.
Once more, Soren felt a strange little ping in his gizzard. Otulissa! Had he dreamed of her? Had he seen something in a dream? Had his starsight revealed something he could not quite grasp? It
seemed odd to him that
123 135 now for the first time he was flying to the Beyond. Otulissa, of course, had been in the Beyond. That was where she had firstfound Corynandtaught him to col ierand then... Wel , thought Sores, as they say, the rest is
120 132 of the flames lick his face, He closed his eyes and watched the red shadows dance jigs on the inside of his eyelids, then opened them again. The moon was rising. More than halfway through its newing, it appeared slightly lopsided, as if it were about to tumble off the horizon. When it was ful in a few more days, there would be an eclipse according to Gylfie, who knew the ways of the stars and the planets because she was the navigation ryb. Coryn had been hatched on the night of an eclipse. And so had Hoole, the king of the legends,
and so had Nyra. He felt a shiver pass through him.
How could the world contain such good and such bad?
And what was he? What if the blood of a
hagsfiend real y did run through his veins? His mind wandered. The flames cast red silhouettes against the moon that trembled now on the darkening horizon. Odd, but he suddenly realized that he had never seen the flames in just this manner - their silhouettes as opposed to looking directly at them. He could not look into them as deeply, but their contours, their shapes had a new clarity. He saw the shape of an owl. A Whiskered Screech, he was certain. He could tel by the smal tuft of feathers that hung from his face. He was not especial y strong nor a steady flier, and what was that - a nest-maid snake coiled on his back? A wind stirred the fire and the flames leaped
121 133 suddenly to one side, stretching, nearly gal oping across the silver of the moon. His gizzard gave a smal jump. Something so familiar in that shape, but just then low clouds brushed across the moon. "Racdrops!" Coryn muttered, and dropped his gaze to the flames in the fire. Could he find it
there? It was the second shape, the second
silhouette that intrigued him, and not that of the Whiskered Screech. There was something in that shape, and he was sure that it was not an owl this time that tugged at his very' gizzard. He felt a longing, a deep and anguished longing - for a place? For a creature? He peered deeply into the flames. There are so many different colors in a fire no one would believe it, thought Coryn. There is never just red or orange. Coryn had heard that there were no two snow-flakes exactly alike, and he believed that no two flames were alike, either. He had once tried to count the shades of orange, but at some imperceptible point the orange seemed to melt into yel ow, and then within the yel ow... Coryn's gizzard flinched. A lovely shade of cream! Soren was right - they were rushing into things. They should not be flying toward the canyonlands at al . They needed an immediate course correction. Coryn had only seen that peculiar cream color once before, and not in a fire but in the Beyond. It was on the glossy coat of a dire wolf. "Gyl bane!" 122
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Most Distressing News
It was a long way to the Beyond, but luckily once again the wind blew from behind and gave them a hefty push north and west. The night was thinning. The moon had slipped away into another world, and it was becoming that hazy time before the dawn. As they shifted positions in their flight formation so that Twilight could fly point in this murky light streaked with false shadows and blurred horizons, Soren could feel the tremor of excitement that coursed through their gizzards. They were at last to meet Gyl bane, the courageous she-wolf, who had turned on her own clan, the notorious MacHeaths. and befriended Coryn. Her own pup had been maimed by Lord MacHeath in hopes that this would qualify the young wolf to become a member of the Sacred Watch.
Once more, Soren felt a strange little ping in his gizzard. Otulissa! Had he dreamed of her? Had he seen something in a dream? Had his starsight revealed something he could not quite grasp? It
seemed odd to him that
123 135 now for the first time he was flying to the Beyond. Otulissa, of course, had been in the Beyond. That was where she had firstfound Corynandtaught him to col ierand then... Wel , thought Sores, as they say, the rest is
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