The Keepers of the Keys

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The Keepers of the Keys Page 6

by Kathryn Lasky


  They would of course talk endlessly about the Ki-hi-ru stories and what it might be like to change into another animal. They would sometimes pretend that they were birds or whales. But it had all seemed like a game. Something that she and her older sister could only talk about when their parents were away hunting.

  She remembered those conversations so well. Lago herself was so young that at first she hardly understood when her sister, with a delicious bright light in her eyes, would begin to talk about the shape-shifter stories.

  Then it was during Lago’s third season out on the ice, during the jumble moon, that they began following an older bear. He was not a chatty fellow at all, as some can be. He seemed rather sad, and Lago could not understand her sister’s attraction to him. But Lago came across them once sitting together on a slab of jumble ice with their heads tipped toward the sky that was throbbing with the lights of ahalikki. There was a companionable silence between them. Neither one uttered a word, but you felt that there was in some way a deep connection. The following morning, Illya was gone. She had not returned to the den that night.

  No one ever saw Illya again. And Lago never saw the bear again. Lago and her family had never even learned the bear’s name, but they were always on the lookout for him, as Illya had been so keen on following him, claiming that he gave her the best seal scraps. Once, their mum thought she had spotted him far out on the ice. Lago remembered her mum’s fleeting joy. But then they knew it could not be the same bear. He looked younger and happier, and a beautiful she-bear accompanied him.

  It was a year or more after that sighting of the two bears that Lago was heading north. It was just before she met her own mate. She had been following some bear tracks. Normally, she would not have dared to go this far north, but there was a scent, a tantalizing scent that she could not identify. She had followed it for several days. She knew one day that she was getting dangerously close to the Ublunkyn, and then it came to her what that scent was. Her sister, Illya! The tracks were those of a bear, but the scent was Illya. She must have trespassed and been caught by the Gilraan, the Timekeepers, and their scent had mingled with Illya’s. Lago thought of all that now as that smell revisited her and her grief was reawakened. But that bear Svenna did not have the spirit of Illya within her. Surely if she had, she would have recognized Lago.

  Lago had never really understood about the Ice Clock and the Timekeepers or what it meant to keep time. Time just happened. One moon passed into the next—the Halibut Moon dissolved into the Ice Growing Moon, and those into the jumble moon.

  The Timekeepers, it seemed, sometimes captured not just bears but other creatures as well—those who trespassed to the edges of The Forbidden, the Ublunkyn. Her sister must have been taken by those immense bears of the Ublunkyn. And although all this had happened so long ago, it was as if a terrible wound had reopened and that Lago was bleeding. Bleeding love for her lost sister.

  Soon after Illya had disappeared, Lago had gone on and found a mate, Ito. A good soul he was, and she had grieved when he had been killed. How comforting it would have been to have a sister then. But she had no one. Her parents had died long ago, never knowing what had happened to their oldest daughter. Lago’s own kits had been carried off by an owl, her mate murdered by an eagle. She felt that she must be the most solitary creature on earth. But one question always haunted her. Why had Illya run off? What was she searching for? She was an extraordinarily beautiful fox. She could have easily found a mate, though she never seemed that interested. How had she disappeared? Still, why would she just disappear?

  Lago crawled out of the den now to look up at the sky. The Great Bear was beginning its climb, and right behind him was the fox constellation—Kn-naru the star fox—just where it should be, picking up the starry scraps left behind by the bear. Kn-naru was dragging her long bushy tail. So beautiful. Not with that funny curve like mine, Lago thought. Then she spotted the fire tails! Ah, it was a foxfire moon. On certain nights, when the moon was in a special phase and the air quite clear, it appeared, as if the tail of Kn-naru were spraying sparks that ignited the skies in feathery bursts of silver and gold. It was as beautiful as the ahalikki. Such a moon when it appeared was rare, and the Nunquivik foxes long ago had named it the Shape-Shifter Moon. Could it have been true? she wondered. Could her sister be a shape-shifter? And if she had been, would she ever come back, come back … and seek me, her own sister?

  “Great Ursus!” Jytte exclaimed as they crawled into the hollow of Ezylryb. It was a most fantastic hollow, with hundreds of books and maps and odd devices that they had never seen before. There were at least a half dozen subjects that they were expected to learn and demonstrate some competence in, from celestial navigation to coding. They had been told by Mrs. Minette that there would be lessons in geography, history, and the culture of the various regions of the world of Ga’Hoole. Without some sort of mastery of these subjects, it would be impossible for them to forge the alliance that Soren had said must be made. And without the alliance, there would be no key slid into the keyhole of the clock! In short, the owls would not fly, but stay in the tree. The Grand Patek would continue his tyranny and Tick Tocks would be slaughtered on the great spiked escapement wheel of the clock.

  “Aah!” said Otulissa, who was waiting for them. “You are intrigued by this array of instruments, I see. Ezylryb led the weather interpretation chaw. Most of his work was accomplished by flying out to track weather fronts, oncoming storms and the like. But in addition, he kept meticulous records of the weather right here in our region. This vine is rigged to an anemometer at the very top of the tree. Fancy name for a wind gauge. And this”—she pointed a talon toward a device hanging on the wall with a clocklike face and a tall transparent column above it with what appeared to be liquid silver—“this is a barometer for measuring atmospheric pressure. When the pressure drops, the silver, which is mercury, falls and we know a storm is coming through. Bell, one of Soren’s daughters, is the chief of the weather chaw. But now you’re going to meet Blythe, the third of the three Bs. So, to work, bears. And just in time—our dear Blythe!”

  Another barn owl entered the hollow. Otulissa continued. “This is Blythe. She is our coder, and decoder for that matter. A kind of owl version of a Yinqui, but we do it rather differently. Nonetheless she has communicated with your father in code, and he now knows of your safe arrival. She will be giving you lessons in coding so that on your journey though the Hoolian kingdoms you can report back to us on your progress.”

  Otulissa blinked and swiveled her head to take in all the bears. “Meet these yosses, Blythe. This is Jytte standing next to me, then Froya, and next to Froya is Third, her brother, and then Stellan, Jytte’s brother.”

  Blythe’s head began to swivel as well during the introduction of the bears. Stellan realized they would have to get used to this, but it always made them a bit dizzy, and when the owls flipped their heads backward, as Blythe was now doing, Stellan thought he might up-gut.

  Otulissa pointed a talon toward a shelf of books over which hung a rusted pair of battle claws. “We are in the parlor of the great ryb of the tree Ezylryb. This is where he lived and studied. There are maps, as you can see, and many books. There is the Sagas of the Northern Kingdoms: The History of the War of the Ice Claws that we shall dip into. And here are the Sonnets of the Northern Kingdoms, which Blythe is familiar with and which became a basis for our coding. And so our studies shall begin. Blythe will start with an explanation for the code procedures for communication. Then you shall proceed with her to the roots and learn the tricks of ‘scratch and tap,’ as we sometimes refer to it, the method of sending out the coded messages. Then back here for some very basic geography lessons.”

  Borrrring! Jytte thought. But she saw her brother craning for a better look.

  Their instructions began with geography. And this meant maps. They had studied maps previously with both Svern and Skagen.

  Otulissa adjusted her eye patch and held the pointer. “You swam out
of the Ice Narrows, crossed half the Sea of Hoolemere, and we are here. It is now the season of the Copper Rain, and what might you call this season in the land from where you come?”

  Froya raised her hand tentatively. Of all the yosses, she had the least education. “The … the Halibut Moon.”

  “Excellent, my dear. Now, do you know what constellations might be appearing at this time in the lands of Ga’Hoole?”

  They all looked at the spotted owl blankly. She waited. Then Otulissa’s single eye flashed with a sparkle of delight. “Grank’s Anvil!” she announced.

  “Grank?” Third asked. “Who’s Grank?”

  “Grank was from the time of the legends, but he was no fancy of a feverish imagination. Not a make-believe legend, but a real one and the very first collier. Not only did he dive for coals, he invented the forge and forged our first weapons. This is a constellation that never appears as far north as from where you come. You shall see it, though, from beginning of the Copper Rain moons into the moons of the Silver Rain, which I believe in your land are called the Seal Moon.

  “So here are your star maps, and as you can see, we have made them on glimmer paper, transparent paper derived from bingle trees. Place it on top of a map and you can see the stars of each season imposed upon the terrestrial map that shows rivers, lakes, and borderlines between the various kingdoms within Ga’Hoole.”

  “So ingenious!” Froya exclaimed.

  “Indeed, and as you learn the new constellations of this land and the land itself, you will become familiar with the different Hoolian provinces and the inhabitants.” Otulissa paused. “We call it the ILS. Integrated Learning Strategy. I myself was the author of this system of learning. You might find it somewhat overwhelming at first, but you’ll see how well it works.”

  The yosses were given land maps and star maps as well as lists of vocabulary words that included special sections of words common in Beyond the Beyond, the province of the wolves and their clans.

  When they crawled into their gall hollows that first morning after a night of study, Stellan yawned. “Can anyone remember the wolf word for the high court of the wolf clans?”

  Third sighed. “It’s Rag something or other.”

  “Ragnaid,” Jytte answered.

  “Good for you, Jytte,” Froya replied. “Now, can anyone tell me that other star from the time of the legends? It’s near Grank’s Anvil, and it burns very brightly.”

  “You mean the sparks that fly off the anvil?”

  “Yes, the brightest one.”

  “That’s the Ember of Hoole,” Stellan replied. “Hoole was the first king of the Great Tree. The story is in that book she gave us, True Legends.”

  They studied hard each night and well into the morning. Each bear found something that completely engrossed them. For Third, it was the legends of the owls. For Froya, it was the stars, for there were stars in this part of the world that she had never before seen. For Stellan, it was the odd customs and traditions, and for Jytte, it was the history of their wars and the strategies they used. She was particularly drawn to Ezylryb’s history of the Ice Talons wars, in which he had first distinguished himself as commander of the Glauxspeed division.

  The bears had become accustomed to the strange night-for-day lives that the owls lived, and now it seemed odd not to go to sleep as the sun began to rise. They accustomed themselves to roasted voles and sugar gliders and did not seem to miss the taste of fresh blood. But what they adored most at the tree was the music. They were absolutely enchanted by the beautiful Madame Luella Plonk. Stellan seemed especially mesmerized by her and would often go to harp practice. Otulissa had encouraged the bears to keep diaries about their experience. She promised never to read them but said it would improve their writing and their reading abilities.

  “You see, bears, it is such a shame that you never wrote down your stories, your thoughts. You told them aloud, apparently, in ancient times in the Ice Star Chamber, where the Bear Council met. But there was no record. It would have been so easy to carve these stories with your claws into the hyivqik ice.”

  So one night, when the moon was still up and at the perfect angle for its light to slide into their hollow, Stellan began to write about his passion for music and Madame Luella Plonk.

  It is hard for me to believe that I have spent my short life without music. Oh yes, there were tunes that our mum would hum when the lights of the ahalikki lights danced across the sky, but it was nothing like the music of the harp when the nest-maid snakes weave through the strings of grass. These snakes are members of the harp guild. The owls have chaws, but the nest-maid snakes have guilds that are perfectly suited for creatures who are blind. There is a lacemakers’ guild, and a weavers’ guild, but the harpists’ guild is the most sought after. Admission is very difficult.

  The snakes’ beautiful rosy bodies slipping so effortlessly through the grass strings of the harp is a breathtaking sight. And Madame Luella’s voice is as shimmering as any star. Am I drawn to her for just her voice? Or is there something more? Sometimes I wonder if those fox stories of the shape-shifters, the Ki-hi-ru stories, could be true. Madame Plonk is a snowy owl. She is as snowy white as any fox in the Nunquivik. I am yellow by comparison. Dingy! Whenever I am in her presence, I feel even dingier. If those Ki-hi-ru stories are true, maybe I could become an owl. Would Madame Luella Plonk ever want to be a bear?

  Stellan blinked as he was writing. Blinked with astonishment. Could he not write such a story himself about a bear who became a snowy owl or a snowy owl who became a bear? How wonderful it would be to become a writer!

  He heard a rustling outside the hollow.

  “Stellan! What are you doing up at this hour?” It was Mrs. Minette. “It’s halfway to noon. I feel the sun on my scales. You should be sleeping. Isn’t tonight your big test with Otulissa? Geography, species identification, mapping—all those things you’ve been learning for the last half of the Copper Rain moons. Goodness, yoss, get your sleep. You do want to pass, don’t you?”

  “Of course, Mrs. Minette. Yes! I’ll get right to sleep.”

  By the time night fell, the bears were in the hollow of Ezylryb, each bent over unfurled scrolls of parchment with questions.

  Name the shared borders of the Forest Kingdom of Ambala.

  In what territory are the green flying snakes most prevalent?

  What exactly is a gnaw wolf? Please explain in a short paragraph.

  Name all the wolf clans and their leaders and identify the only one led by a female wolf.

  Explain the Bone of Shame in the culture of wolves and the contrition rituals.

  In which Hoolian kingdom do the bears live? Write a short essay comparing them to your own species.

  What is a hireclaw? What are the indicators that an owl might be one?

  The last question was the one that they were all confident in getting right. The answer was NONE! Hireclaws were owls who had no allegiance to any territory. Whoever paid them got their services as killers. They’d fight for any side.

  There was another entire section on code and another on useful phrases to know for the various kingdoms. There was also a deportment guide for proper behavior that they would be tested on. The book was called The Gentle Owl’s Guide to Manners and Protocol in the Kingdoms of Ga’Hoole. There were sections on appropriate postures for greeting certain species of owls, as well as other animals, and tips on food sharing. When greeting a dear friend after a long time, head flipping is permissible, except perhaps in Ambala. The greenowls of Ambala tend to be quite formal. They are the only owls that even approach the wolves of the Beyond in terms of decorum.

  In terms of mastering code work, or cryptology as it was called, the bears were not expected to be as proficient as Blythe, but they were expected to know the basic poems and sonnets from Ezylryb’s anthology and the keys to those codes so they might be able to tap them out on certain roots. They also had learned how to identify trees that might have roots that were conductible, which could send m
essages tapped out back to Blythe.

  Blythe, despite her extreme shyness, was one of the sweetest creatures they’d ever met. She was always assuring them that they would do well. That they should never be discouraged. If she had any criticism, she tried to clamp her beak shut and just give them a little bit more time. It was never “You’re wrong.”

  Otulissa, on the other hand, could be quite abrupt and sometime verged on scolding them outright. “You should know that!” she would scowl. “You wouldn’t want to accidentally cross over from the Tyto kingdom into Kuneer—not a place for bears like you! You’ll die of thirst. Remember you’re bears. You can’t fly out like owls if you get there. No ice, just sand.”

  Now the bears waited while Otulissa and Blythe went over their examination papers.

  “What if we flunk?” Froya asked.

  “You’re not going to flunk, Froya,” Third soothed his sister.

  “I’m pretty good with geography, but I think I missed some of the questions about borders.”

  “Froya, quit fretting,” Third said. “We all have our strengths, and we all have our weaknesses. No one is perfect.”

  “How true!” Otulissa said, sweeping into the parlor of the hollow. “Yes, you all have your strengths and your weaknesses.” Otulissa churred softly, for that was the owl way of chuckling. “And you all did quite well. But I always feel it’s best to speak to a creature’s strengths, be it owl, wolf, or bear.”

  Blythe, who perched beside her, nodded vigorously.

  “Jytte, you shall be the coder. You had a perfect score. This seems to fit with your skills as an ice gazer, reading the obscure cracks and bubbles or air trapped in the ice that hint at what might be beneath the surface.

  “Stellan, you as well have good language skills. You have mastered all the peculiar wolf expressions. And that will be your task: You, Stellan, shall be—how should I put it?—the diplomat, the frynmater, as we call it—the friendmaker. Good with language. A nice sensitivity. You made a perfect score on the test for The Gentle Owl’s Guide to Manners and Protocol. Quite an accomplishment for a flightless creature!”

 

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