A Guide Book to the Great Tree (4 page)

The daughter of Strix Hurth, a retired instructor at the Kielian Military Academy, and Strix Otulinn, a respected weathertrix, Struma grew up in a stand of pines just north of Broken Talon Point. She came from a long line of well-bred owls who contributed greatly to the culture of the Northern Kingdoms. She was named for Strix Strumajen, an owl of great courage from the time of the legends.

Struma's parents had high expectations for their daughter from the day she hatched. They tried to provide her with an education befitting her lineage—with lessons in classical literature, music, and etiquette. They hoped she would become a well-rounded and refined young owl and find herself a suitable mate. But Struma

was a poor student from the start. (Yes, it's true—I could scarcely believe this myself when I heard it.)

“Glaux, was I ever lazy!” Strix Struma told me. “Slept well beyond tween time; some nights, wouldn't even get up until it was First Black. Hardly ever lifted a talon to do anything around the hollow. Thought the sun and moon should rise and set to my liking. You see, Otulissa, I was a smart chick, started counting and reading before my First Meat-on-Bones, if you can believe it. Every grown owl who met me was so impressed…‘Oh, look what little Struma can do! Such an advanced owlet for her age, so gifted!' So by the time I was fully fledged, I thought I had it all figured out. I wouldn't have to do any work, I would just let my ‘natural talent' carry me through. Nothing interested me at all, I just wanted to gleek about all night and all day. Some fledgling I was.” I still remember her shaking her head and churring abashedly as she related the story.

As Struma got older, her parents' concern for their daughter turned into disappointment. Not only did she seem disinterested in everything, she became downright defiant. She would leave the family's hollow for days at a time, never telling her parents where she had been. Once, she even returned home with her feathers painted like a kraal! Strix Hurth was hags-bent on setting his daughter
straight. Having been an instructor in the Academy, he devised a plan.

Deep in the H'rathghar mountains, at the northern edge of Glen Hoole, was a little military camp that the owls of the Kielian League called Little Hoole. Little Hoole was considered a strategically important location in the War of the Ice Claws because it was home to the ruins of an ancient fortress built by the Others called Ghareth's Keep, which, most owls agreed, was impenetrable in the best of conditions. Control of Little Hoole meant control over the vast mountain ranges of H'rathghar. Little Hoole was in a steep, bowl-shaped depression amid the mountains. In fair weather, it was difficult to access, requiring owls to fly over the highest peaks of the mountains. During the winter, when storms incessantly pounded the region, it was all but cut off from the world by swirling winds, snow, and never-lifting fog. With no safe and easy way to leave, owls stationed at Little Hoole would stay there all winter, essentially trapped by weather.

Strix Hurth knew Little Hoole well. The place was run by one of his oldest friends, General Kai, a Snowy from Dark Fowl Island. Strix Hurth himself had been stationed there for a full year as a young owl. It had been the most grueling year of his life. He and his mate thought that
was exactly what young Struma needed. At Little Hoole, she would learn discipline and respect for authority. And even though the War of the Ice Claws hadn't officially ended, it seemed that the Kielian League had victory within their grasp. With winter coming, Little Hoole was sure to be one of the safest places in the Northern Kingdoms.

“I nearly screeched my head off! How could they send me to such a glaux-forsaken place?” There was still a hint of outrage in Strix Struma's voice as she continued with her story, but I thought I detected a whiff of nostalgia as well. “But I knew there was nothing I could do to change their minds. Besides, I thought it might be good to get away from my parents, in a way that wouldn't cause them to disown me.”

And so, one evening in late autumn, Strix Hurth and Strix Otulinn delivered their delinquent daughter to Glen Hoole. A light snow was falling. It was the most difficult journey that Struma had ever flown. On more than one occasion, she thought that the wildly swirling winds and icy mist would cause her to hurtle into the sheer ice walls of the mountains. And winter hadn't even come yet; this was still the “mild season” in these parts. When she first laid eyes on the icy peaks that she would have to traverse, Struma thought for sure that she would freeze before she
reached the glen. She only made it with the guidance of her mum, who, as a weathertrix, was accustomed to this type of flying.

Struma's outlook did not improve at the end of her journey. Little Hoole was as dismal a place as she had imagined. It seemed everything there was a murky shade of gray—including the owls, be they Great Grays, Snowies, or Spotted. She counted fifty or so owls at the camp, and they all moved about in practiced monotony—marching, sharpening ice weapons, moving supplies. Ghareth's Keep itself was a stone monstrosity. Never had Struma seem anything so unwelcoming. But she reckoned that was intentional. This would be where she would sleep every day until spring. She wasn't sure if her gizzard was numb from the prospect or from the cold.

When it came time to light down for the first time in her new home, Struma found that she was exhausted, but could not sleep. And every time she began to doze off, she dreamed of ice walls closing in all around her. When the drill sergeant gave the wake-up call the next evening, Struma marched out of the Keep in a daze, only to find that it wasn't even First Lavender yet.

The night began early for owls at Little Hoole. There was not a single crow in sight in these mountains, so owls were often wakened during the late afternoon to begin
their drills. There were marching drills, several types of flying drills, weapon-handling drills, combat drills…so many drills that Struma lost track. Her body ached from First Lavender to First Gray. It was all she could do to climb into her nest at twixt time.

On top of the endless drills, Struma also had to take classes in battle tactics, navigation, geology, and weather interpretation. For the first time in her life, her “natural talents” failed her. At first, she didn't really care that she wasn't doing well in her classes. But soon, it became abundantly clear that failure would not be tolerated. If she didn't master the material covered in class, she was subjected to more drills, less sleep, and scathing looks from the older recruits.

It seemed impossible to make friends at Little Hoole. All the other owls, mostly new recruits, knew of Struma's distinguished lineage and thought of her as little more than a spoiled and self-centered fledgling. Few owls spoke to her unless it was to give her an order. Struma ate alone most nights. Almost a full moon cycle had passed since her arrival. She grew more depressed with each passing day.

The only owl Struma felt at all close to was her geology instructor, an old Snowy named Sarissa. Sarissa herself was from an ancient line of Snowies from Stormfast Island,
and saw something in young Struma that reminded her of herself. It now seemed that she had lived at Little Hoole for ages, but Sarissa remembered those first miserable days vividly. She gave the Spotted Owl encouragement along with a bit of tough love. “Get over yourself, young'un,” she told Struma frankly. “No owl is going to like you just for who your ancestors were, and they're certainly not going to appreciate your thinking that you're smarter than every owl in this place. Put in some effort and you might just learn a thing or two.”

Since Snowy Owls often nested on the ground in the tundra, understanding the terrain was of vital importance. Spotted Owls, on the other hand, usually lived in dense coniferous forests and had little practical use for this type of knowledge. Nevertheless, geology became Struma's favorite and best subject. She began to look forward to her geology class every night. She found that her outlook was beginning to change. Soon, Struma began to excel in other subjects as well. She was surprised to find battle tactics fascinating. The daily drills grew easier, too, as Struma got stronger. She found that the other young owls were beginning to treat her with a little more respect. There were even a few that she could call friends. Little Hoole might be grueling, but it wasn't such an awful place after all.

Meanwhile, winter had descended upon the H'rathghar mountains with biting ferocity. Snow fell from the sky but never seemed to reach the ground in the bowl-shaped glen. It swirled and drifted and turned the air opaque. The wind howled like wolves night and day. None of this seemed to bother the owls of Little Hoole, for they had been prepared to live in such conditions. What they had not prepared for was what happened at First Black one night.

As the owls carried on with their drills, they heard a distant rumble. Was it an avalanche? Those were not uncommon in the area, but they never happened in Glen Hoole because the slopes surrounding it were so steep that snow could not accumulate on them. But the rumble grew closer. Then, the earth shook.

All the owls of Little Hoole lifted into the air on instinct. Unable to see through the dense snow, they depended on their acute sense of hearing to avoid becoming completely disoriented. Somewhere, an owl cried out, “The Keep! It's coming down!” Stones crashed. Struma heard the noise and back-winged away from the collapsing structure. But there was another noise, and this one came from just behind her. It began as a soft crackling. Within a second, it grew to a deafening explosion. Struma was thrown forward.

When the rumbling and shaking finally stopped, Little Hoole was completely transformed. Struma knew then that she had just experienced her first earthquake. She had read about this in her geology books, but never expected to live through one. She saw that the west wall of Ghareth's Keep had crumbled. Stones littered the ground. A few owls were examining the damage to the Keep. The rest stared incredulously at something behind Struma. Struma turned to see a stunning sight—the familiar bowl-shaped glen had developed a crack high in the western rock face. There was now a narrow passageway into the glen through the mountains. Little Hoole was no longer impenetrable.

Three nights later, as Struma was helping to clear the rubble, she overheard a troubling conversation. General Kai was speaking with Dag, the scout he had sent out after the earthquake, and a few of the instructors.

“How many?” General Kai asked.

“So many that I didn't have time to count, sir! Looks to be in the hundreds, maybe even a thousand!” The scout's voice was filled with dread. Struma had known the Whiskered Screech to be one of the toughest owls in the camp. It was his alarmed tone that caught her attention.

“How could they have found out so fast? They must
have already been amassing their forces when the quake occurred.”

“We can still hole up here, in the eastern portion of Ghareth's Keep. They'll never be able to breach it,” Maia, the Great Gray who taught weather interpretation, suggested.

General Kai shook his head. “With no protection from the mountains, the Ice Talons can bring in fresh troops whenever they need them. They can besiege us for many moon cycles if we hole up.”

Struma's gizzard shuddered. The Ice Talons! She had been sent here to learn discipline, not to be a soldier. Was there going to be a battle? A
real
battle? She continued to listen.

“He's right,” Sarissa spoke for the first time. “If we retreat to the Keep, we will die there. We're nearing spring and our supplies are low. Along with our lives, we would lose Little Hoole for sure.”

“You're mad if you're suggesting that we engage them. They have us outnumbered ten to one at least!” Maia's voice had begun to sound as frantic as Dag's had.

“We will use the mountains to our advantage. We will meet them in the pass,” Sarissa said definitively. Just then, a group of owls flew into the Keep. Struma saw that it was
the rest of the instructors and the drill sergeant. She didn't want to be caught eavesdropping, so she left to clear more rubble in another part of the Keep.

Later that night, General Kai called all the owls of Little Hoole together to tell them of the oncoming invasion. The Ice Talons were coming to take Little Hoole and Ghareth's Keep from the Kielian League, and the fifty-some owls here would have to defend it. The enemy was strong, and the owls of the Kielian League were vastly outnumbered. But they would fight, and make a last stand if it came to that. The battle would likely commence tomorrow. Scouts had been posted in the pass to warn them when the enemy was within range. Some of the oldtimers took the news with sage stoicism, while the new recruits were clearly shaken. Kai appointed commanders who would explain the tactics and lead sections of troops into battle. Struma listened nervously to the words of the general. She looked over to Sarissa in time to see the Snowy give her a reassuring glance.

After the announcement, General Kai sought Struma out from the crowd. She had been trying to summon her courage, and hoped that the general would help boost her morale. Instead, he said something that, to her surprise, disappointed her greatly. “I promised your father that I would keep you safe, Struma. You are to remain in
the east chamber of the Keep. Stay there until I come for you. That's an order.” General Kai had fully expected the young Spotted Owl to be relieved.

“No,” Struma said squarely. She hadn't thought about what she would say, and she wasn't sure why she said what she said. But it was the answer that her gizzard gave her, and she surprised herself with the composure in her own voice. “I want to fight.”

“You're no soldier, young'un.”

“Then that means I don't have to take your orders.” The defiance of Struma's fledgling days returned. She had never been more sure about anything than she was about the coming battle. “With all due respect, sir, this wretched place has turned me into a better owl, and I have learned to love it and the owls around me. I am no longer a fledgling, and I want to do this.” For the first time, Struma felt like a full-grown owl.