demerit if Spoorn heard him talking that way?"
"Yes," Soren said slowly. He was not sure where Gylfie was going with this.
"Well, I think Grimble has perhaps not been perfectly moon blinked and that could be really good, too."
"Wait! One time you say it will be helpful to us if someone is perfectly moon blinked and the next minute you say someone like Grimble, who might not be, can be helpful, too."
"Grimble might be one of us, don't you see, Soren? He might be pretending to be moon blinked the way we have. As a matter of fact, I am almost sure he is."
"Why?"
"Because I went down that side crack and I found out what he was guarding."
"You did?"
"Yes. And do you know how hard it is to find out information when it's against the rules to ask a question?"
"Oh, yes!" Soren said.
'A couple of times I almost did ask questions, and Grimble seemed to sense it."
"What did you find out?"
"Have you ever heard of books?"
"Of course I have," Soren said indignantly. "Books and Barn Owls go very far back." These were the exact words that his parents often said when they took out their few books to read aloud to the owlets.
"Especially since so
many of us once lived in churches. My parents had a book of psalms."
"Psalms?" Gylfie was truly impressed. "What are psalms?"
"Like songs, sort of, I think." Soren had not really heard that many. But when his mother read him the psalms it seemed that she sang the words more than spoke them. "But what about books? What did you find out from Grimble?"
"The place he guards is a book place. They call it a library. Have you ever heard of that -- a library?"
"Never. How did you find out all this? You certainly didn't ask questions."
"No, of course not. You see, it is off-limits. Only Skench and Spoorn are allowed in. That's how I sensed he might be one of us. He seemed to know the question before I ever had to think of a way of asking it. I want to get in."
"Why? I think we just need to get out of here."
"I want to know about the flecks," Gylfie said.
"Flecks? What flecks?"
"The flecks we're always singing about -- the bright flecks at the core, the ones the first-degree pickers pick for."
"Are you yoicks, Gylfie? You want to stay around this place long enough to become a first-degree picker?"
"Soren, something worse than just moon blinking
young owls is going on here. I just sense it. Something very bad. Something that could destroy all the kingdoms of all the owls on all the earth." Gylfie paused. "Something deadly." The word seemed to hang in the air, and Gylfie stared ahead unblinkingly
"These owlets are the walking dead. I think it would be better to be dead than be like 47-2, but you said all the kingdoms of all the owls on all the earth?"
"Total destruction," Gylfie said. Her voice was like ice. "Look, Soren. I want to get out as much as you do.
I think Grimble might be helpful, but we'll have to be very careful, and that library with those books holds secrets, secrets I think that could help us escape and maybe help other owls -- other owls in your Kingdom of Tyto and mine in the Desert of Kuneer. Would you want any other owls to go through what we've been through?"
Soren suddenly thought of Eglantine. He loved Eglantine. The thought of her being snatched, of being moon blinked, was almost more than he could bear. There was a world of Eglantines out there. Did he really want them to become empty-eyed, hollow-voiced, destined-not-to-fly owls? A shudder ran through Soren. It was not good enough to just escape. In fact, their task was greater than he had ever imagined.
A shriek split the night in the glaucidium. The moon had risen and the alarm for the first sleep march sounded.
Soren and Gylfie felt the stir as thousands of owls began to move. The strange babble rose up as each owl repeated its old name over and over again. The two little owls looked at each other and moved their beaks, turning the sound of their numbers into something that
"Yes," Soren said slowly. He was not sure where Gylfie was going with this.
"Well, I think Grimble has perhaps not been perfectly moon blinked and that could be really good, too."
"Wait! One time you say it will be helpful to us if someone is perfectly moon blinked and the next minute you say someone like Grimble, who might not be, can be helpful, too."
"Grimble might be one of us, don't you see, Soren? He might be pretending to be moon blinked the way we have. As a matter of fact, I am almost sure he is."
"Why?"
"Because I went down that side crack and I found out what he was guarding."
"You did?"
"Yes. And do you know how hard it is to find out information when it's against the rules to ask a question?"
"Oh, yes!" Soren said.
'A couple of times I almost did ask questions, and Grimble seemed to sense it."
"What did you find out?"
"Have you ever heard of books?"
"Of course I have," Soren said indignantly. "Books and Barn Owls go very far back." These were the exact words that his parents often said when they took out their few books to read aloud to the owlets.
"Especially since so
many of us once lived in churches. My parents had a book of psalms."
"Psalms?" Gylfie was truly impressed. "What are psalms?"
"Like songs, sort of, I think." Soren had not really heard that many. But when his mother read him the psalms it seemed that she sang the words more than spoke them. "But what about books? What did you find out from Grimble?"
"The place he guards is a book place. They call it a library. Have you ever heard of that -- a library?"
"Never. How did you find out all this? You certainly didn't ask questions."
"No, of course not. You see, it is off-limits. Only Skench and Spoorn are allowed in. That's how I sensed he might be one of us. He seemed to know the question before I ever had to think of a way of asking it. I want to get in."
"Why? I think we just need to get out of here."
"I want to know about the flecks," Gylfie said.
"Flecks? What flecks?"
"The flecks we're always singing about -- the bright flecks at the core, the ones the first-degree pickers pick for."
"Are you yoicks, Gylfie? You want to stay around this place long enough to become a first-degree picker?"
"Soren, something worse than just moon blinking
young owls is going on here. I just sense it. Something very bad. Something that could destroy all the kingdoms of all the owls on all the earth." Gylfie paused. "Something deadly." The word seemed to hang in the air, and Gylfie stared ahead unblinkingly
"These owlets are the walking dead. I think it would be better to be dead than be like 47-2, but you said all the kingdoms of all the owls on all the earth?"
"Total destruction," Gylfie said. Her voice was like ice. "Look, Soren. I want to get out as much as you do.
I think Grimble might be helpful, but we'll have to be very careful, and that library with those books holds secrets, secrets I think that could help us escape and maybe help other owls -- other owls in your Kingdom of Tyto and mine in the Desert of Kuneer. Would you want any other owls to go through what we've been through?"
Soren suddenly thought of Eglantine. He loved Eglantine. The thought of her being snatched, of being moon blinked, was almost more than he could bear. There was a world of Eglantines out there. Did he really want them to become empty-eyed, hollow-voiced, destined-not-to-fly owls? A shudder ran through Soren. It was not good enough to just escape. In fact, their task was greater than he had ever imagined.
A shriek split the night in the glaucidium. The moon had risen and the alarm for the first sleep march sounded.
Soren and Gylfie felt the stir as thousands of owls began to move. The strange babble rose up as each owl repeated its old name over and over again. The two little owls looked at each other and moved their beaks, turning the sound of their numbers into something that
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