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never had heard Mrs. P. swear, and at him, no less. It was like venom curling out into the air. The other owls alighted next to Soren.
    “Hey,” Twilight said, “did you catch that curled wingie I just did?”
    “Racdrops on your curled wingie.”
    Now a deep hush fell upon the owls. Had Mrs. Plithiver lost her mind? Racdrops. She had actually said racdrops!
    “What’s wrong, Mrs. P.?” Soren asked in a trembling voice.
    “What’s wrong? Look at me. Stop looking at yourselves in the lake this instant. I’ll tell you what’s wrong. You are a disgrace to your families.”
    “I have no family if you’ll recall, Mrs. P.” Twilight yawned.
    “Worse then! You are a disgrace to your species. The Great Gray Owls.”
    This really took Twilight aback. “My species?”
    “Yes, indeed. All of you are, for that matter. You have all grown fat, lazy, and vain, the lot of you. Why…why,” Mrs. Plithiver stammered.
    Soren felt something really bad was coming.
    “You’re no better than a bunch of wet poopers!” With that, there was a raucous outburst from a branch overhanging where they stood at the lake’s edge, on which a dozen or more seagulls had alighted. The harsh gull laughter ricocheted off the lake and the reflections of the owls on its surface quivered and then seemed to shatter.
    “We’re getting out of here NOW!” Mrs. Plithiver said in a near roar for a snake.
    “What about crows? It’s not dark yet.”
    “Tough!” she spat.
    “Are you going to sacrifice us to crows?” Gylfie said in a very small voice.
    “You’re sacrificing yourself right here on the shores ofthis lake.” And something sharper than the fiercest gaze of eyes bore into Gylfie’s gizzard. Indeed, all the owls felt their gizzards twist and lurch.
    “Get ready to fly! And Twilight—”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “I’ll fly point with you.”
    “Yes, ma’am.” The Great Gray stooped down so that Mrs. Plithiver could slither onto his broad shoulders.
    Of all the owls, Twilight had been the most transfixed by Mrs. P.’s outburst. And if Twilight was to fly point, as he usually did, Mrs. P. felt she was going to have to be there to keep him on course. He was a “special needs” case if there ever was one. What, indeed, had the world come to if an old blind nest-maid snake had to navigate for a Great Gray Owl? Some sky tiger!
    But she had to navigate as Twilight began to circle the lake a second time and dip his downwind wing, no doubt for a better look at himself, and, yes, singing under his breath his next favorite tune—

Oh, wings of silver spread on high,
    Fierce eyes of golden light,
    Across the clouds of purple hue
    In sheer majestic flight—
    Oh, Twilight!
    Oh, Twilight, most beautiful of owls,
    Who sculpts the air
    Beyond compare.
    With feathers so sublime,
    An owl for now—
    An owl for then—
    An owl for all of time.

    Mrs. Plithiver had coiled up and was waving her head as a signal to a gull she sensed overhead. Suddenly, there was a big white splat that landed on the silver wings sublime.
    “What in Glaux’s name?” Twilight said.
    “They like you, Twilight. Blessed, I dare say!”
    Twilight flew straight out across the lake and never looked back.

CHAPTER SIX
The Ice Narrows
    I t seemed as if winter had been waiting for them as soon as the Mirror Lakes dropped behind them. Blasts of frigid air, swirling with ice, sleet, and often hail, smacked into them. The rolling ridges of The Beaks had become sharper and steeper, sending up confusing currents. Ice began to form on their own beaks and, in a few minutes, Soren saw Gylfie spin out of control. Luckily, Twilight accelerated and managed to help her.
    “Fly in my wake, Gylfie,” he shouted over the roar of the wind. And then he swiveled his head back to the others. “Her wings have started to ice. Ours will, too—soon. It’s too dangerous to continue. We have to look for a place to land.”
    Almost as soon as Twilight had spoken of iced wings, Soren felt his