Guardians of Ga'Hoole 09 - The First Collier

this book centuries from now, you probably do not know what a frightful power magic was in those days so long ago. You must first understand that in that time before time, there were fewer kinds of birds. In the most ancient of times, long before I had hatched, or even my great-great-grandparents had come into the world, there had been just one kind of songbird and one kind of seabird and one kind of bird of prey. After thousands upon thousands of years, the various species of birds separated and became distinct. There came to be robins and nightingales and larks, and so onand so forth. At one time, as unimaginable as it may seem now, there was a bird that was both crow and owl—a strange commingling of blood! Then gradually over many, many years these “crowls,” as they were called, separated into distinct species. Yet, oddly enough, some never did. And these remnant crowls came to be known as hagsfiends. Their gizzards were different, warped, many said. And although they had somewhat primitive brains, these birds possessed strange inexplicable powers that could only be called magical. When I was growing up, it was still a time of great magic. And through my experiments and study of fire, I knew that I, too, possessed certain powers. I still had much to learn, and it was this thirst for knowledge that drew me to Beyond the Beyond—that land of erupting volcanoes—to study fire more closely. I wanted to learn how to fly the hot drafts that spiraled from the flames. I wanted to look into the gizzards of the hottest embers. For me, fire was alive. Fire had a body, an anatomy like any living thing.

CHAPTER THREE
Fengo
    O n my first visit to Beyond the Beyond during that peaceful lull in the wars of the N’yrthghar, I not only learned more about fire, but I learned about dire wolves, the immense creatures who had migrated to this region some years before. I remember as clearly as if it were yesterday when I first met Fengo, their chieftain. He had brought his clan to the Beyond when they could no longer endure what they called the Long Cold that had settled on their homeland. Fengo knew the terrain of the Beyond well and, most important, he knew the volcanoes. There were five volcanoes in what would later become known as the Sacred Ring. Fengo had an intimate knowledge of these volcanoes, their individual behaviors, the rhythms of their eruptions, the kinds of coals they spewed from their mouths.
    When I first saw Fengo, he was perched on a high ridge. His incredible green eyes were fastened on a volcano on the north side of the ring. He did not say hello.Nor did he scent mark immediately to warn me off or engage in any of the very complicated displays by which wolves signal their acceptance or rejection of any creature who is approaching. Furthermore, he gave no indication of his rank to suggest what honors were his due. No, there was none of that, which surprised me for I had met several wolves since I had been in the Beyond and they were quite touchy about such things. But here their chieftain, Fengo, remained perfectly still as I lighted down on the ridge not far from him. He did not look at me, but he spoke.
    “Watch that one straight ahead on the north, right between the stars of the Great Fangs.” He pointed with his muzzle to a volcano that was precisely centered between the lowest stars of the constellation that rose at this time of year. The constellation was identical to one that in the N’yrthghar we called the “Golden Talons.”
    “I am watching,” I said.
    “It is going to erupt when the last star of the Great Fangs rises above the horizon.”
    And so it did. I was astonished.
    “How did you know that?”
    “I know,” was all he said.
    He turned to me. The eyes of these dire wolves were a color I had never seen before. To say they were green doesnot do them justice. They were more like green fire. And Fengo’s were absolutely astonishing. Our eyes locked and in that moment something passed between us. I knew then that although we were owl and wolf, two such different animals, we shared something: We both had visions. I could see the image of the volcanoes’ flames reflected now in his eyes. As I peered deeper into that eerie greenness, I saw more. It was as if the eyes themselves were no longer eyes but something else. There was the reflection of orange flame, but in the center of that flame was a glimmer of blue and then a shimmer of green, the same green as the wolf’s eyes. But I