Guardians of Ga'Hoole 03 - The Rescue by authors_sort Read Free Book Online

what a rogue smith is.”
    “Don’t know what a rogue smith is, don’t you?”
    Soren shook his head and looked down at his talons.
    “Nothing to be ashamed about, lad. A rogue smith is a blacksmith just like me. But he ain’t attached to any kingdom. I mean, we here at the Ga’Hoole Tree be the only ones who know how to use fire in all different ways, like for cooking, and the light for the candles for reading and, of course, for tools, like battle claws, and pots and pans and cauldrons. But these rogue smiths, they know about forging some and they mostly make battle claws. Weapons, you know.”
    “But who do they make them for?”
    “Anyone who comes along. They don’t ask no questions about the who, but seems like they get plenty of information one way or the other. They have to deal with rogue colliers. Get a lot from them.”
    “Rogue colliers? You mean colliers like me and Otulissa and Martin and Ruby?”
    “Yep, but no chaw. You get it? They just go it alone.”
    “Alone into forest fires?”
    Bubo nodded. “But it’s the smiths who really get all the good information. This Barred was a slipgizzle.”
    “Yes,” Soren replied.
    “Now, you know what a slipgizzle is, don’t you?”
    “Uh…kind of a secret agent owl?”
    “That’s it, basically. Keeps their eyes and ears open for any news, then reports back to us. But they never stay long when they come. They likes living wild. I think I recall this Barred Owl coming in here once a while back. A rough-trade sort of bird. Didn’t like his meat cooked, no sirree. Said candlelight, smell of wax wobbled his gizzard.”
    “Are there any other rogue smiths?” Soren asked. An idea was forming in his head.
    “Oh, yes—a few. There’s a Snowy Owl over near the border between The Barrens and Silverveil.”
    “Do you know his name?” Soren asked.
    “His? What makes you think it’s a ‘his’?”
    “Hers?” Soren asked tentatively. Bubo nodded. “I’ve never heard of a female blacksmith.”
    “Well, now you have.” Bubo batted his talon on one of the whirlyglasses and the colors seemed to ignite as theywere caught in the light of a candle dappling the walls of the cave.
    “What’s her name?” Soren asked.
    “Don’t know. Most of them rogue smiths keep their names to themselves. They’re an odd sort, I’m telling you.” Then he looked narrowly at Soren and fixed him in his amber gaze. “Rogues are unpredictable and not only that, they are often visited by bad sorts. After all, they make weapons. So, Soren, don’t you be getting ideas.”
    But that was just exactly what Soren was doing: getting an idea!

CHAPTER SIX
Eglantine’s Dilemma
    B eware of Metal Beak.’ It was the scrooms who told me.” Soren was in the hollow with Twilight, Gylfie, Digger, and Eglantine.
    “But did they actually say it out loud?” Gylfie hopped up close to Soren and looked straight up.
    “Well, no—not exactly. Scrooms don’t speak out loud.”
    “Then how do you know,” Eglantine asked in a broken voice, “that it was them, the scrooms of Mum and Da? Because if it was, that means they are dead, doesn’t it, Soren?” Tears began to leak out of his sister’s coal-black eyes.
    “It does, Eglantine, and there is nothing we can do about that,” said Soren.
    “Dead is dead,” Twilight said in his usual blunt way. Gylfie turned and kicked him in his talons.
    “What did you do that for, Gylfie?”
    “Twilight, she has just found out for sure that her parents are dead. You could be a little more sensitive!”
    “But it’s the truth, isn’t it?” Twilight said, slightly abashed by Gylfie’s reprimand.
    “It is, and it isn’t,” Soren said. “You asked me how I heard them, how I could be sure. I can’t explain exactly. It was them. I felt their spirits, and their words were not out-loud words but seemed to form in my brain. First, they would come like fog or mist, and then they would gather into a shape that had meaning, a picture. But I felt