Guardians of Ga'Hoole 06 - The Burning by authors_sort Read Free Book Online Page B

two owls alighted on the rocky promontory, the snake, still coiled, said, “Gunden vhagen.”
    Martin tipped his head. “Gunden vhagen.” Ruby, watching Martin, did the same and mumbled the Krakish words for good evening.
    “Vhrunk tuoy achtin?”
    “Huh?” Martin said. “I mean, pardon.”
    “What comes you here for?”
    “Oh…oh, yes…uh…uh…just a minute. Hold on.” Martin turned to Ruby. “Get out that word sheet Otulissa made up for us.”
    Ruby untied a slender metal tube from her leg and then drew out a piece of paper.
    “What’s the word for snake?” Martin muttered with exasperation.
    “Hordo!” the snake said.
    “Yes,” replied Martin. “Exactly. You are a hordo.”
    The serpent slid his eyes in contempt. They glittered in an unnerving way. “I know I am snake. Vhat you tink, me stupid?”
    “You’re a Kielian snake.”
    “Ja, ja.”
    “I mean…maybe you know this other Kielian snake we look for. His name is Hoke of Hock.”
    “Why you need Hoke of Hock?”
    Well, at least he’s chattier than the other creatures we’ve met, Martin thought.
    “You good flier, Short-eared.”
    “You’ve been watching us?” Martin said in a wary voice.
    “Ja, ja.”
    “For how long?” Ruby asked.
    “Two days, maybe three,” the snake replied.
    “And you—Northern Saw-whet, you spiral dive like…oh, cominzee bisshen?” It was obvious that the snake was searching for a word he needed. “…Like…like a coal diver.”
    Martin blinked. “You mean, like a colliering owl?”
    “That’s it. Ja, ja, colliering owl.”
    Martin stepped closer to the snake. Northern Sawwhet Owls were small, and even stretching himself up as tall as he could, Martin was still shorter than the coiled snake. But he wanted the snake to pay attention to him. “You’re Hoke, aren’t you? You’re the Kielian snake that Ezylryb sent us to find.”
    “Maybe, maybe not.”
    “Yes, you are. And you speak better Hoolian than we speak Krakish. You understand a lot. Why have you been hiding from us—and just now hiding how much you understand?”
    “How I know Ezylryb really sent you? How I know who you are or who you pretend to be?” the snake demanded to know.
    “We don’t pretend to be anything,” Ruby said huffily.
    “I give test,” the snake replied. “Who is Ezylryb’s nest-maid?”
    “Octavia!” both owls answered at once.
    “How many talons does Ezylryb have on port foot?”
    “Three,” Martin and Ruby both cried out.
    “Hmmm.” The snake waved its head as if trying to think of a harder question. “All right. I got one.”
    Ruby’s and Martin’s gizzards began to tremble slightly. What if they missed this question?
    “Ready?”
    “Ready!” they both answered.
    “Vhat be that old Whiskered Screech’s favorite weather song? He always sing in dirty weather.”
    “We know that!” Ruby lofted into the air with glee and began singing.

We are the owls of the weather chaw
We take it blistering
We take it all
    Roiling boiling gusts
We’re the owls with the guts

    By the time she got to the second verse, the snake was wagging his head to the beat. It was a robust, irresistible song.
    “Sound almost as good in Hoolian as Krakish!” the snake said. Soon, all three creatures, the two owls and the old Kielian snake, were roaring the song. The owls lofted into short merry flights; the snake oozed and swirled himself into the unbelievable contortions of an ancient Kielian snake dance.

For blizzards our gizzards
do tremble with joy
An ice storm, a gale, how we love blinding hail
We fly forward and backward
Upside down and flat
Do we flinch? Do we wail?
Do we skitter or scutter?
No! We yarp one more pellet
and fly straight for the gutter!
Do we screech? Do we scream?
Do we gurgle? Take pause?
Not on your life!
For we are the best
of the best of the chaws.

    Finally, as the last verse drew to a close, the snake coiled up again, waved his head in a most graceful manner and said, “You are right. I am