Perfection!
I think it's working," the Screech Owl Spoorn said to the Ablah General, Skench. From their stone perches high above the moon blaze cell, Skench and Spoorn looked down on Soren and Gylfie. They could not hear the hushed tale that Soren was repeating and the two young owls were careful to stand very still. When the moon finally slipped down in the night sky, Skench and Spoorn alighted onto the floor of the moon blaze cell and peered into each of the owl's eyes.
"Perfect!" Spoorn declared.
"We are perfect," Gylfie replied. "We are so pleased to be perfect for our masters. Number 25-2 feels quite perfect and complete."
Soren picked up the cue. "Number 12-1 also feels perfect. We await your commands."
"Come along, little ones. I knew you could do it," Spoorn said. This was the most kindly tone either Soren or Gylfie had ever heard Spoorn use.
"Next thing you know, you'll be having your Specialness ceremony."
Racdrops! thought Gylfie.
"You know, Spoorn," Skench was saying, "these two were marked as haggards from the start, or at least the Barn Owl was, and sometimes I think that a haggard once scalded actually makes a better servant to our cause."
Dream on, you addle-brained idiot bird. The words roared silently in Soren's head.
"I am thinking of the little one for battle claw maintenance and the Barn Owl for the eggorium."
"Or maybe even the hatchery for the little one."
Hatchery! Eggorium! Battle claws! Soren and Gylfie were suddenly very alert. Yet they managed to walk in the dazed manner of the perfectly moon blinked.
"You know," Skench continued, "I think we need to put them in the same stone pit and the same glaucidium -- reinforced moon scalding. If they look into each other's eyes, I think it has been proven that it reinforces the effects of the scalding."
Ha! Gylfie nearly laughed out loud.
So the two young owls were returned to Soren's glaucidium, and Jatt and Jutt were duly informed that these two were to be together and periodically made to gaze into each other's eyes.
"All right, you two!" barked Jutt. "Face off!" And neither Jatt nor Jutt could see the twinkle deep within each of the young owl's eyes, nor did they hear Soren say, as they turned their backs, "We did it, Gylfie.
We did it."
So once more the days slipped into the nights, and the nights became dark links in the silver chain of the moon as it cycled through its dwenkings and full shines, sometimes appearing as an immense, throbbing, bright globe, at other times as thin as the finest thread of down filament from an owl's breast. Patiently, they waited for their flight feathers to grow in. Each day, Soren would do a quick inventory of what he had, what showed promise. His flight feathers were definitely advancing, perhaps not fully fledged, but definitely out there. When he flipped his head back, as owls could do, and rotated it, he could get a good view of his tail feathers, and when no one was looking, he would practice rotating and ruddering maneuvers. There would, of course, be no First Flight ceremonies. In fact, Soren lived in perpetual dread of being informed in a most unceremonious way that he was not "destined" for flight as, apparently, the Spotted Owl, 12-8, formerly Hortense, had been. This, she always said, was due to her top secret status that had something to do with being a broody.
"Think of all we've learned, Soren," Gylfie said one day, after having served in the battle claws chamber.
She seemed blithely confident that when the time came for them to fly they would, and that it was much more important to survey the entire range of canyons and gulches that composed St. Aggies, so that when they were ready they could escape, never be caught again, and warn others. "Let me tell you what I've learned today in the battle claws chamber...."
Soren indulged Gylfie and let her run on. "Well," she began, "they have the battle claws that fit over their talons but they don't make them themselves. They can sort of repair them but basically they have to scavenge them from other places, other battlefields."
"But what other battlefields? Look, Gylfie, I didn't live long in Tyto but I never saw or heard my parents talk about any battles. Did you ever hear your parents talk of any?
Gylfie thought hard. "No. No, I didn't," she said slowly. "And when we were snatched they weren't wearing them."
"They would hardly need them for us. We were nestlings. Our own talons were not even hardened off"
Gylfie blinked at Soren as if he had just said something astonishing. She remained silent for a moment.
"That's just it, isn't it, Soren? They didn't need them for us. No. But they needed us and these battle claws for something bigger ... much bigger. Remember in the third legend of the Ga'Hoolian cycle when the sea serpents that could walk upon the land and swim in the sea started to form their plan? Remember how they wanted to drag the entire world of owls and birds into the sea, so that they could reign on both land and sea?"
"Yes," Soren said quietly.
"I think they are planning something big like that."
Soren started to say that the story of the serpents was just a legend and not true, that such sea creatures did not exist. But then he realized deep within himself it didn't really matter. These owls did exist and maybe they wanted just what the imaginary creatures of the legends wanted. Soren had a horrible vision of the entire forest kingdom of Tyto and the desert kingdom of Kuneer and all the owl kingdoms being swirled into this stone world of St. Aggie's.
"So," Gylfie continued, "when we do escape, Soren, we must know as much as we can. We must know about flecks and why they are more precious than gold, and what they plan to do to the kingdoms of owls. It is going to be our duty to warn the rest of the owl kingdoms. Don't worry about flying now.
Think about how much we are learning. Look, we know the pelletorium inside out, we've been on cricket detail, now battle claws; the last area we have to crack -- pardon the pun -- is the eggorium and that broody place."
"Top secret. Remember."
"As if 12-8 would ever let us forget. Oh, Glaux, here she comes now. Hang on, Soren, I'm going to try some of my charm." Gylfie winked and then the dull light of a moon- blinked owl stole into her eyes.
Soren watched as Gylfie, in the semblance of the perfectly moon-blinked owl, trotted up to Hortense.
"12-8, you appear calm and satisfied from the perfection of performing your duty well. I cannot imagine that your Specialness ceremony is far off"
"I do not need a ceremony to feel special. For you see, 25-2,I am entrusted with the most sacred and vital of tasks for our beloved St. Aggie's community."
"Yes, that must be so. 12-1 and I would feel it an honor to serve in such a manner. But then again we do not have the qualifications, the obvious talents of you, 12-8. Ah, to be the vessel of such trust."
12-8 seemed to swell with pride before their eyes. A pit monitor suddenly swooped down. "Humbleness correction, humility check, dear." It was a smallish, whiskered Screech Owl.
Her amber eyes blinked a warning out of her bristly face. 12-8 seemed to shrink to half her size instantly. "Oh, I beg your pardon. It is pride in my work, not pride in myself. I remain a humble servant to a great
cause.
"Yes, a great cause." Gylfie repeated the words, and although it was a statement, Soren really heard a question at the center. What was this great cause?
"Yes, that's better, dear." The whiskered Screech Owl nodded and floated off to a higher perch in the stone pit. Gylfie felt that the moment was right. "You are the last owl in the world that I would ever say lacked humility, 12-8. You are for my friend and myself a perfect example of humility You are beyond humbleness! You are ..." Gylfie was madly searching for a word. What's she going to say next? Soren couldn't imagine. He had never seen such a demonstration of outrageous fawning. "You are subglaucious" 12-8 blinked at the word as did Soren, who had no idea what subglaucious meant. "We, my friend and I, only wish that we could serve in the eggorium and thus attain such humbleness as yourself."
"Your words are kind, 25-2. I shall hope that they might encourage me in my continuing quest for humility while in service to a great cause." She wandered off looking a tad more moon blinked than before, if that was possible.
"What in Glaux's name is subglaucious? Soren said as soon as she was out of earshot.
"No idea. I made it up. We've got to get into that eggorium and the hatchery," Gylfie replied, and the twinkle returned to her eyes.
