Guardians of Ga'Hoole 10 - The Coming of Hoole

to him: “He has found it, Grank. Listen to the volcano. He has found it.”
    Suddenly, Hoole burst through the wall of flames with the ember clutched in his beak, his feathers slightly singed, and a splattering of lava on his talons. A beautiful radiance seemed to pour from the ember and bathe Hoole’s face. Indeed, his entire body was enveloped in a shimmering cocoon of light. And above Hoole’s head a sparkling crown hovered as if the very stars from the sky had descended to anoint this prince who was now a king.
    “Hail, Hoole, son of King H’rath, son of Queen Siv!” A murmur swept through the gathered owls and wolves. The wolves began to crouch to their knees and lay back their ears. Then Lord Rathnik and the noble knights ofthe Ice Regiment of H’rath kneeled and took up the cry. “Hail, Hoole, King of the N’yrthghar.” The wolves howled and the owls hooted and hooted. But in the background almost as loud as the cheering was the low roar of wings flapping. The hagsfiends were leaving. Lord Arrin’s troops were in complete disarray. Some fled with the hagsfiends. Others fell to their knees and began to hail the new king. Lord Arrin could be heard screeching, “But he is just a boy. There is no proof of his parentage. He is an unknown, barely fledged owlet. Not even a prince.”
    Hoole set the ember down between his two feet. “A prince?” He blinked in complete bewilderment. “My mother, a queen?” And then he caught sight of Grank holding his mother’s bleeding body.
    “Mother!” He flew over to her.
    “What they say is true, Hoole,” Siv said.
    “Mother, don’t talk now. You are wounded.”
    “I am dying, Hoole.”
    “No! No! You can’t be dying.”
    “I am, but fear not. My life is complete. I feel only happiness, my son, my prince, my king,” she whispered faintly and died.
    Grank gently shut her eyes with his beak. He felt his heart crack open, his gizzard wither.
    “I only wanted to be her son a little bit longer,” Hoole said in a hushed voice to Grank.
    “You will always be her son, Your Grace. But you are now our king.”
    After several long minutes, Hoole straightened up and turned to look at the masses of owls and wolves still on their knees.
    “Please rise, all of you,” he commanded, and then he flew a short distance to that noble knight Lord Rathnik. Before him he knelt and if he had had ear tufts he would have laid them back. The owls and wolves grew still again. “Lord Rathnik, I have heard of your noble deeds in both war and peace from Grank, my foster father and tutor. Before I become a king I must become a knight. I am not sure if I have yet fought long enough or valiantly enough to be worthy of such a title.”
    “Oh, indeed you have, Your Grace.” The Whiskered Screech touched him on his shoulders with his ice sword and dubbed him a knight. “In the name of Glaux and of your good father, King H’rath, and your good mother, Queen Siv, I dub thee a knight of the H’rathian Guard of the Ice Regiment.”
    Hoole then rose and turned to the multitude of owls. “Who was it who slew my mother the queen?” There wasa sudden rustling on a distant ridge and a clutch of owls rose up and sped off into the night. In the middle of those owls was Lord Arrin.
    “A cowardly retreat this lord does make,” Hoole muttered.
    He turned and looked at the lifeless body of his mother.
    “You will see her again when you leave this world, dear Hoole,” Grank spoke softly.
    “In glaumora,” Hoole said and then flew over and bent down to touch his mother’s lovely face with his beak. “In glaumora.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Into a New Night
    T he Golden Talons glowed in the sky directly over the crater of Dunmore. The owls had gathered on the ridge along with Fengo and Namara and several other wolves.
    “So,” Fengo said, “it is time for you to go, eh?”
    “Yes.” Hoole nodded. “How can I ever thank you for the lessons I have learned from you? Forgive my sometimes impudence.”
    “It was not impudence. It was the truth,” Fengo replied, glancing at Namara. “And where shall you go—back to the N’yrthghar?”
    Lord Rathnik took a step forward. “I am afraid there is no longer a palace for our king, nor a throne. It fell to the hagsfiends and Lord Arrin in the last battle of the H’rathghar glacier.”
    “No matter,” Hoole said quietly. “I need no palace of ice nor a crown to be a good king. I need only a code of honor and a gizzard of good grace.”