Kathryn Lasky has written many books, both fiction and nonfiction, including Sugaring Time, for which she won a Newbery Honor. Among her fiction books are The Night Journey, a winner of the National Jewish Book Award, and Beyond the Burning Time, an ALA Best Book for Young Adults, as well as the Daughters of the Sea and Wolves of the Beyond series. She has also received the Boston Globe-Horn Book Award and the Washington Post Children’s Book Guild Award for her contribution to nonfiction.
Lasky and her husband live in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
THE GUARDIANS of GA’HOOLE
Book One: The Capture
Book Two: The Journey
Book Three: The Rescue
Book Four: The Siege
Book Five: The Shattering
Book Six: The Burning
Book Seven: The Hatchling
Book Eight: The Outcast
Book Nine: The First Collier
Book Ten: The Coming of Hoole
Book Eleven: To Be a King
Book Twelve: The Golden Tree
Book Thirteen: The River of Wind
Book Fourteen: Exile
Book Fifteen: The War of the Ember
A Guide Book to the Great Tree
Lost Tales of Ga’Hoole
THE OWLS
and others
from
GUARDIANS of GA’HOOLE
The Capture
SOREN: Barn Owl, Tyto alba, from the kingdom of the Forest of Tyto; snatched when he was three weeks old by St. Aegolius patrols
His family:
KLUDD: Barn Owl, Tyto alba, older brother
EGLANTINE: Barn Owl, Tyto alba, younger sister
NOCTUS: Barn Owl, Tyto alba, father
MARELLA: Barn Owl, Tyto alba, mother
His family’s nest-maid:
MRS. PLITHIVER: blind snake
GYLFIE: Elf Owl, Micrathene whitneyi, from the desert kingdom of Kuneer; snatched when she was three weeks old by St. Aegolius patrols
TWILIGHT: Great Gray Owl, Strix nebulosa, free flyer, orphaned within hours of hatching
DIGGER: Burrowing Owl, Speotyto cunicularius, from the desert kingdom of Kuneer; lost in desert after attack in which his brother was killed by Jatt and Jutt
SKENCH: Great Horned Owl, Bubo virginianus, the Ablah General of St. Aegolius Academy for Orphaned Owls
SPOORN: Western Screech Owl, Otus kennicottii, first lieutenant to Skench
JATT: Long-eared Owl, Asio otus, a St. Aegolius sublieutenant, warrior, and enforcer
JUTT: Long-eared Owl, Asio otus, a St. Aegolius sublieutenant, warrior, and enforcer; cousin of Jatt
AUNT FINNY: Snowy Owl, Nyctea scandiaca, pit guardian at St. Aegolius
UNK: Great Horned Owl, Bubo virginianus, pit guardian at St. Aegolius
GRIMBLE: Boreal Owl, Aegolius funerus, captured as an adult by St. Aegolius patrols and held as a hostage with the promise that his family would be spared
47-2: Western Screech Owl, Otus kennicottii, picker in the pelletorium of St. Aegolius
HORTENSE: Spotted Owl, Strix occidentalis, originally from the forest kingdom of Ambala, snatched at an indeterminate age by St. Aegolius patrols; trained as a broody owl in the eggorium of St. Aegolius
STREAK: Bald eagle, free flyer
ZAN: Bald eagle, mate of Streak
A peek at
THE GUARDIANS of GA’HOOLE
Book Two: The Journey
They had left the hollow of the fir tree at First Black. The night was racing with ragged clouds. The tree covering was thick beneath them, so they flew low to keep in sight the river Hoole, which sometimes narrowed and only appeared as the smallest glimmer of a thread of water. The trees thinned and Twilight said that he thought the region below was known as The Beaks. And for a while they seemed to lose the strand of the river, and there appeared to be many other smaller threadlike creeks or tributaries. They were, of course, worried they might have lost the Hoole, but if they had their doubts they dared not even think upon them for a sliver of a second. For doubts, they all feared in the deepest parts of their quivering gizzards, might be like an owl sickness—like grayscale or beak rot—contagious and able to spread from owl to owl.
How many false creeks, streams, and even rivers had they followed so far, only to be disappointed? But now Digger called out, “I see something!” All of their gizzards quickened. “It’s…it’s…whitish…well, grayish.”
“Ish? What in Glaux’s name is ish?” Twilight hooted.
“It means,” Gylfie said in her clear voice, “that it’s not exactly white and it’s not exactly gray.”
“I’ll have a look. Hold your flight pattern until I get back,” said Twilight.
The huge Great Gray Owl began a power dive. He was not gone long before he returned. “And you know why it’s not exactly gray and not exactly white?” Twilight did not wait for an answer. “Because it’s smoke.”
“Smoke?” The other three seemed dumbfounded.
“You know what smoke is?” Twilight asked. He tried to remember to be patient with these owls who had seen and experienced so much less than he had.
“Sort of,” Soren replied. “You mean there’s a forest fire down there? I’ve heard of those.”
“Oh, no. Nothing that big. Maybe once it had been. But really, the forests of The Beaks are minor ones. Secondrate. Few and far between and not much to catch fire.”
“Spontaneous combustion, no doubt,” Gylfie said.
Twilight gave the little Elf Owl a withering look. Always trying to steal his show with the big words. He had no idea what spontaneous combustion was and he doubted if Glyfie did, either. But he let it go for the moment. “Come on, let’s go explore,” Twilight said.
They alighted on the forest floor at the edge of where the smoke was the thickest. It seemed to be coming out of a cave that was beneath a stone outcropping. There was a scattering of a few glowing coals on the ground and charred pieces of wood.
“Digger,” Twilight said, “can you dig as well as you can walk with those naked legs of yours?”
“You bet. How do you think we fix up our burrows, make them bigger? We just don’t settle for what we happen upon.”
“Well, start digging and show the rest of us how. We’ve got to bury these coals before a wind comes up and carries them off and really gets a fire going.”
It was hard work burying the coals, especially for Gylfie, who as the tiniest had the shortest legs of all. She and Mrs. Plithiver, who was not much more effective, worked as a team.
“I wonder what happened here,” Gylfie said as she paused to look around. Her eyes settled on what she thought was a charred piece of wood, but something glinted through the blackness of the moonless night. Gylfie blinked. The object glinted and curved into a familiar shape. Gylfie’s gizzard gave a little twitch and, as if in a trance, she walked over toward it.
“Battle claws!” she gasped.
From inside the cave came a terrible moan. “Get out! Get out!”
But they couldn’t get out! They couldn’t move. Between them and the mouth of the cave, glowing eyes—redder than any of the live coals—glowered, and there was a horrible rank smell. Two curved white fangs sliced the darkness.
“Bobcat!” Twilight roared.
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First printing, September 2003
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E-ISBN: 978-0-5452-8332-8
Kathryn Lasky, The Capture
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