Capture (17 page)

Plithiver. "Pleased to eat ya. I mean, meet ya."

Soren gave a long rasping sound.

"I'm sure it was just a slip of the tongue, Soren," Mrs. Rhiann. said diplomatically

"So what happened to your parents?" Twilight asked abruptly.

The Burrowing Owl hesitated and then sighed. "I don't like to speak about it."

"Were you snatched?"

Again there was a long silence. And then finally the story spilled out in jagged chunks between gasps and sobs. Soren listened. At one point he heard Twilight mutter, "This is one hysterical owl." Gylfie told him to shut up.

The Burrowing Owl was named Digger and he had not been snatched, but his two brothers had been.

From

the description of the owls who did the snatching, it must have been Jatt and Jutt. The most horrific part of the story, however, was the fight that Jatt and Jutt had over the youngest, Digger's brother Flick. "He was plump, a chubby little fellow, and they ... they ... they ate him!"

Digger crumpled into the sand in a swoon. "Come on, now Twilight said briskly, and nudged the poor owl. "You can't keep passing out. Buck up."

Gylfie and Soren looked at each other in disbelief Soren thought if he heard Twilight say "buck up" one more time, he might just attack. But it was Gylfie who bristled up and suddenly seemed twice her normal size. "His brothers been eaten by another owl and you say 'buck up'? Twilight, for Glaux's sake, show some sensitivity."

"Sensitivity gets you nowhere in the desert. If he keeps passing out like this, why, if the moon was full, he'd get moon blinked in no time."

A shudder passed through Gylfie and Soren at the mere mention of those words. Digger began to stir.

He dragged himself to his feet.

"How did you get away?" Soren asked.

Iran.

"Ran?" Soren and Twilight both spoke at once. This, indeed, was a very strange owl.

"Well, I hadn't really learned how to fly yet, but we

Burrowing Owls are good at running." Soren looked at Digger's legs. Unlike most owls, Digger's legs barely had any feathers and were exceedingly long. "I ran as far and as fast as I could. You see, our parents were out hunting when all this happened, and these two owls were in such a tussle over Flick.

Cunny, the next oldest brother, had already been snatched, and this other owl had flown off with him, although he kept yelling back to the other two not to eat Flick. His voice was odd, softer than the other two owls, a kind of tingg-tingg sound. I never heard anything like it."

"Grimble," Soren and Gylfie said at once.

"So what happened?" Twilight asked. "Did your parents come back and find you?"

"Well, the problem is that I'm lost. I ran farther and faster than I ever thought I could and I have been trying to find my way back ever since. Once I came to a burrow that looked just like the one that I had lived in with my parents, but there was no sign of them. So it must have been the wrong burrow." Digger said this in a quavering voice and then added, "Mustn't it?"

Soren, Gylfie, and Twilight remained silent.

"I mean," Digger continued, "they would never just leave. They would think something had happened and they would go out and search for us. One of them would

search and the other would stay behind. You know, in case we returned or..." His voice died away and was swallowed in the cool breeze of the desert night.

Deep in his gizzard, Soren felt the Burrowing Owl's anguish. "Digger," he said, "they might have come back and seen the ... the" -- he took a deep breath -- "the blood and the feathers of your brother on the ground. They might have thought that you had all been murdered. They didn't really leave you, Digger.

They probably thought you were all dead."

"Oh," Digger said quietly. And then, "How awful. My parents think I am dead! We all are dead! How terrible. I must find them, then. I must show them that I am alive. I am their son. Why, I can even fly now." But instead of flying he began to stride off with great purpose into the desert.

"Well, why aren't you flying?" Twilight called after him.

Digger spun his head around. "Oh, there's a burrow right over here. I just want to take a look."

"Oh, great Glaux," sighed Gylfie. "He's going to walk all the way across this desert, poking into every burrow."

Desert Battle

They flew for another night, skirting the edges of the Desert of Kuneer. Nowhere had they found any signs of Gylfie's family, not even in the old cactus where they had all lived together before the snatching.

As they flew, Soren began to think deeply about St. Aggie's and the absolute evilness of the owls there.

The evil seemed to have touched almost every kingdom -- egg snatching in Ambala, chick snatching in Tyto, and now the worst horror of all, cannabalism in Kuneer. Hortense had told them that a few of the owls in Ambala had somehow figured out that the source of the evil was St. Aggie's, but his own parents had just thought it was something random, perhaps a small gang of renegade owls -- nothing as large and powerful as St. Aggie's. They never could have imagined such a place, and Soren felt that few owls in any of the kingdoms could have, either. Was it possible that Soren, Gylfie, and Twilight were the only ones who were aware of the scope and power of St. Aggie's? Were they the only ones who had all the pieces to this horrible puzzle of violence and destruction that was touching every single owl kingdom? If this was true, they must stick together. There was strength in numbers even if the number was only three. They were the three who knew the terrible truth of St. Aggie's. This knowledge alone could help them save other owls.

Soren remembered when he was still a prisoner of St. Aggie's and first realized that it was not simply enough to escape. How awful it had been to imagine his beloved sister, Eglantine, a victim of the brutality of St. Aggie's. He remembered thinking that there was a world of Eglantines out there. So now they had escaped, and now he knew for certain that their task was greater than he and Gylfie and Twilight had ever imagined. Soren knew he must think carefully about how he could explain all this to Twilight and Gylfie.

Every now and then, the three owls would look down and spot Digger trudging through the desert sand.

Occasionally, Digger would lift into flight but always skimmed low, combing the desert for any burrow that might shelter his parents. Mostly, however, he would run, his long, nearly featherless legs striking out across the sand, his short stubby tail lifted to catch any wind from behind that would give a boost to his speed. Or if there was a head wind, as now, he would lean into it, tucking his wings close to his body, and ram ahead.

"That fool owl has the strongest legs I've ever seen," Twilight muttered as the first slice of the moon rose in the sky.

"Strongest legs and the stubbornest head," Gylfie added.

But deep within Soren there was a flicker of bright admiration for this odd owl. One had to marvel at Digger's determination. Just as Soren was pondering this, he heard something. He cocked his head one way, then the other.

As in all Barn Owls, Soren's ear openings on either side of his face were not evenly placed -- the left one being higher than the right. His uneven set of ears actually helped him to capture sound better. And now he instinctively worked certain muscles in his facial disk to expand its surface and help guide the sounds to his ear. The noise was coming from his windward side, his right ear, because it was that ear that was picking it up before his left ear. Now the sound was arriving almost at the same time in both ears, perhaps with one-millionth of a second difference.

"Triangulating, are you?" Twilight asked.

"What?" Soren said.

"Fancy word for what you Barn Owls do best. Figure out exactly where a sound is coming from.

Something tasty down there? I could use a bite."

"Well, there's something below but it's not on the ground. It's off to windward. You can line it up with that bright star on my wing tip."

Then, suddenly, Soren and Gylfie saw them. "Great Glaux, it's Jatt and Jutt!" Soren exclaimed.

"Look!" said Gylfie. "They're closing in on Digger. I hope there's a burrow nearby."

"47-2 is with them," Soren said. "Look at that stupid owl. Its huge now."

"It's a Screech Owl," whispered Twilight. It certainly was, and 47-2 now resembled that other terrible Screech Owl -- Spoorn.

"They must have let her grow flight feathers and taught her to fly," Gylfie said weakly.

"Sheer off to downwind," Twilight ordered. "We don't want them to hear us."

"Right, but hush!" said Soren. "I'm picking up something. Let me listen."

The words that Soren picked up from the three owls that flew below them were chilling, even though the conversation broke up on the rising wind currents.

"47-2, once you taste a Burrowing Owl -- well... nothing ... like it... run fast... no burrows here ... no place

... hide..."

"We've got to do something," Soren said.

"The three of them against the two and a half of us." Twilight sighed as he turned his head toward Gylfie.

"I can be a diversion," said Gylfie quickly. And giving the other two owls no time to reply, she plunged into a quick downward spiral.

"What's she doing?" Soren asked. Gylfie was already on the ground and she was doing the best imitation imaginable of a burrowing owl, kicking out her feet as she tried to run across the desert sand.

"Look, it's working!" cried Twilight. And sure enough, 47-2 was turning toward Gylfie.

"Charge!" roared Twilight.

"Hang on Mrs. Rhiann.," Soren gasped.

Jatt and Jutt were just lighting down on the sand when Twilight and Soren struck. Soren, his feet forward, spread his talons and thrust his legs straight out. He shut his eyes but felt his talons sink into the feathers between Jatt's ear tufts and then one talon hit something not like feathers at all. It was flesh, then bone. A terrible cry ripped through the night. But now Soren was tumbling in the sand. Ther e was a whirlwind of feathers and dust. Some

thing slithered nearby. He hoped it was Mrs. Rhiann. finding herself a safe hole.

Then there was a deep hoot that reverberated across the vastness of the desert. It was Twilight beginning his battle cry. Jatt and Jutt, however, had their own fierce thrum that seemed to shake Soren to his gizzard. Twilight was hooting as only Twilight could.

You ugly rat-faced birds.

You call yourself a bird?

You call yourself an owl?

You ain't no decent kind of fowl!

They call you Jatt?

They call you Jutt?

I'm gonna toss you in a rut!

Then I'm gonna punch you in the gut!

Then you're gonna wind up on your butt!

Thinkyou're all gizzard!

I seen better lizards.

One-two-three-four,

You're goin down, won't ask for more.

Five-six-seven-eight,

You ain't better than fish bait...

Nine-ten -eleven-twelve,

I'm gonna send you straight to hell.

The air was laced with Twilight's taunts. From the corner of his eye, Soren saw Jutt trying to jab at Twilight. But Twilight was as fast as his smart-talking beak. He dodged, he feinted with his jabs, seeming to aim for one place, then stabbing at another, and all the while yammering away in his hooting singsong taunts. First at Jatt, then Jutt. He would lure them in close for a strike and then strike back faster. His talons became a blur. Soren had never seen anything as fast and as light as the immense Great Gray Owl.

Soren tried to keep his focus on closing in on 47-2 before, indeed, she caught up with Gylfie. Suddenly, however, Soren felt something strike him from behind. He flipped in the air and came down on his back.

Jatt, much bigger, loomed like a monster owl above him. One ear tuft had been torn off completely The owl was in a mad frenzy. "I'll kill you! Kill you! I'll rip out your eyes!"

Just as the sharp beak began to come toward him, Soren felt the air stir and a shadow slide across them.

Then, miraculously, the huge weight that had pinned him down lifted. Still lying on his back, he blinked in utter amazement as he saw the ^vl rise above him -- not in free flight but in the talons of the most immense bird he had ever seen. Its white head glistened in the light cast from the crescent moon that was now directly overhead.

On the ground to the left, another bird, also with a white head, stalked about the lifeless forms of Jutt and 47-2.

Then Gylfie and Digger walked up. "I've never seen anything like it," Digger said. "Who are they? Who are these white-headed birds?"

"Eagles," Twilight spoke softly with great reverence. "Bald eagles."

"Hortense's eagles!" Soren and Gylfie both said at once.

"Hortense?" said Mrs. Plithiver as she crawled out of her hole. "Who's Hortense?"

My name is Streak," said the smaller eagle, "and this is my mate, Zan. She is mute and cannot speak."

Zan nodded to the four owls and dipped her beak almost to the desert floor. "Her tongue," Streak continued, "was torn out by the evil ones."

"The evil ones?" Soren said. "Jatt and Jutt?"

"And Spoorn and Skench, and the wicked creatures of St. Aggie's. I dare not call them birds!"

"Was Zan the one who tried to rescue Hortense's egg?"

Zan bobbed her head excitedly.

"Yes, indeed, and she did rescue it but it was on that mission that she lost her tongue," Streak explained.

Soren turned to Zan. "We saw you that terrible day. We saw what happened. You are both so brave to have helped Hortense."

"Hortense was the brave one. There was never an owl quite like Hortense. Do you know that in Ambala nearly

every other newly hatched owl chick is being named Hortense, even if it's male?"

"Oh, my goodness!" Gylfie sighed. "And she hated the name so much. At least, that's what she told us."

"Well, a hero is known by one name now in the Kingdom of Ambala and that name is Hortense."

"What are you doing here in Kuneer?" Twilight asked.