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don’t know. It just sounded different.”
    Coryn made two more passes high above the tree where the three owls were perched, guarding the eggs. He could hear their rapidly increasing heartbeats. He didn’t want to wait much longer. Now was the time. He slowed his flight and spiraled down and then began to hover. It was perfect timing as the cloud cover parted and a misty trail of moonlight slipped through the trees.
    “Nyra!” one of them screamed.
    “Not Nyra! Her hagsfiend’s come to curse you.” And then Coryn let loose with a terrifying shree.

Your gizzards are a-wobble,
    Your gall grot turned to mush.
    I shall take you all to hagsmire
    And rip out all your guts.
    I shall make you my slaves,
    Condemn you to shame,
    Unless you learn to play
    My great and evil game.

    “My Glaux! My Glaux! Save us!” Flint was gasping.
    “We should never have left our parents!”
    “It’s not my fault. I was snatched!”
    The three Barn Owls were fleeing, spiraling upward in flight. They could not leave their post quickly enough. It had worked!

CHAPTER NINE
The Egg Restored
    C oryn tore off the scarves of moss. The great ruse had worked better than he had ever dreamed. He lighted down at the base of the tree and carefully cleared away the leaves from the shallow pit. There was the egg, perfectly round and gleaming white, with still a little bit of dirt from The Barrens stuck to its shell.
    Ever so cautiously, Coryn wrapped his talons around the precious egg. Then he spread his wings and, with a powerful upstroke followed by a downstroke, lifted off the ground. He felt bad that he could not save the other three in the nest, yet he would not even have known where to take them. All he knew right now was that he had to get out of this forest before Stryker and Wortmore came back. The wind had shifted and was against him. It would be a hard flight back to The Barrens but he had to do it. There was little left of the night. He might have to risk flying into the morning, but there was really no choice.
    The cloud cover had blown off. There was no place tohide now in the sky. He could only hope that he would not meet any of the Pure Ones. Perhaps he should have kept the rags of moss. It had certainly worked as a hagsfiend disguise. But flying against this wind with the moss would not have been easy. He could feel now the swish of the liquid in the egg and hear the murmurs of the young heart. How precious these feelings and sounds were. How precious this life was. To think that it could have been destroyed by the Pure Ones. Surely, it would have been as good as destroyed even if it had hatched, because to be born into such a despicable world and nurtured by such vile creatures was the same as death.
    He pumped his wings harder against the wind. It was amazing how quickly he had come to love this egg and, with that wonder, Coryn realized something else: To love something can often mean to give it up, to release it to where it truly belongs. Was life always going to be this way for him? Coryn wondered. He had loved Phillip and he had loved Mist and Zan and Streak and the lovely green snakes and yet he was forced to part with them all.
    The sky was beginning to lighten. He could see the mound of rocks beneath which the Burrowing Owls had dug their burrow. There was nobody out of the burrow at this hour. They were probably sleeping below. He was not quite sure how he should go about giving them back theegg. He didn’t want to scare them again. But he certainly couldn’t just leave the egg outside to be found. The wrong owls might find it. Not to mention snakes, which loved to eat any kind of bird’s eggs.
    As Coryn began to descend, he heard a soft weeping sound coming from the burrow. It was the mother. Then there were the murmurs of the father trying his best to soothe her.
    Now how should I do this? Coryn thought. He lighted down and gently placed the egg just to the side of the entrance. The sunrise behind the egg was creeping over