Read Online (GoG Book 08) The Outcast by Kathryn Lasky - Free Book Online Page B

guards of forty or more wolves were known as the Sacred Watch. And most interesting of all, each of these wolves had been born with some deformity—a missing ear, a missing paw, or perhaps one blind eye. So it was only the deformed wolves from other clans that could petition for admission.
    Because Otulissa felt that her mission to the Beyond had something to do with the Ember of Hoole, she thought it best to seek out the MacDuncans and ask for sanctuary as soon as she arrived.
    Otulissa’s talons finally touched earth in Beyond the Beyond in the very last sliver of a dwenking moon. She perched on the same ridge where Coryn had watched the wolves kill the caribou a few nights before and surveyed the eerie landscape. Although she saw no wolves, she heard their howls. She knew that wolves did not just howl at the moon, they howled to communicate information such as a kill has just been made , or a herd of caribou is crossing the river , or I am hurt. Another method of communication was scent marking, which Otulissa found deeply intriguing. Much could be communicated through their scent marks. With their highly developed sense of smell, they could amass nearly as much information about their environment as Otulissa might read in a book. The scent marks created a kind of map in their brains that very precisely defined the borders of their territory, where dangers might be, where a cache of food was, where others of their clan might be, the location of new open territories, and even possible birthing dens for pregnant females.
    After reading about their extraordinary smelling powers, Otulissa regretted that those of owls were so inferior. What a help it would be to be able to sniff out danger, to smell ideas. She churred softly to herself as she imagined a library filled with books of not just written words butscents as well— Smelly books! Lovely, lovely, all that knowledge pouring in through one’s eyes, through one’s beak, or whatever they call that thing that other animals have on their faces. Oh, what she would give to be back in the library of the great tree at this very moment instead of this Glaux-forsaken place! She sighed.
    “A sigh of regret or joy, madame?” A Masked Owl had lighted down on the ridge next to her. He was a Rogue smith. That much Otulissa could sniff. He had that ashy odor and his talons were blackened from working the fires with hammer and tongs.
    “Just general weariness, I think,” Otulissa answered.
    “You’re new here?” the Masked Owl asked. Otulissa narrowed her eyes so that the lids half obscured them. It was not a particularly polite gesture. But she was suspicious. She had heard that no questions were asked in Beyond the Beyond. She certainly didn’t intend for any-one to know that she was a Guardian of Ga’Hoole. That would not be good at all.
    “Permit me to introduce myself. I am Gwyndor.”
    Now Otulissa blinked in real astonishment. What happened to the rule of no names?
    “I thought one did not give one’s name here,” she replied tersely.
    “Some do, some don’t. May I inquire as to your name?”
    “You may not!”
    He looked at her closely. Too closely. Otulissa was about to tell this Gwyndor to stuff a mouse in it and fly off. Otulissa hated owls and other animals getting overly familiar with her. Yes, she was snooty, she knew that. However, if this Gwyndor could help her with her mission, she would relent.
    “I am in search, sir, of the MacDuncan clan,” Otulissa said coolly. “If you could help me find them, I would be most appreciative.”
    “Ah, the MacDuncans. Yes, a fine clan, one of the oldest,” the Masked Owl said. “They were hunting here a few days ago and then I heard they’d gone up into the region of the Pennvault River. That is their territory up there. So that’s where you might find them.”
    “Well, that’s very kind of you. Now, might you direct me to this territory of the Pennvault River?”
    “I’d be more than happy to accompany