Read Guardians of Ga'Hoole 09 - The First Collier for Free Online

no fire and no sunlight. I was standing very still. “Eat up, lad!” the Great Gray was saying.
    “No,” I said.
    “What’s wrong? It’s a perfectly good lemming,” the owl replied, a nasty edge to his voice. But when I stared at the lemming, I saw something green coiled within it.
    “No!” I shrieked this time, and with my talons kicked the lemming off the edge of the ice shelf. A terrible hiss scalded the air as a bright eerie green thing slithered through the gathering darkness.
    “A flying snake!” H’rath shouted, and we backed ourselves against the wall of the ice shelf. The snake coiled at once as if to strike.
    I rose straight up into the air. And although I scarcely remembered it later, I was told that I spoke in strange words and at once the snake appeared to go yeep but then turned and glided off into the night.
    The Great Gray was gone by the time we recovered.
    “He tried to kill us!” H’rath said in stunned disbelief.
    “He tried to kill you ,” Siv said.
    “You’re right,” H’rath said. “He said that the prince should eat first.”
    And we all knew which prince he meant. At that moment they both turned to me. “Grank,” H’rath whispered. “You saved my life. How did you know?”
    “I’m not sure. I just see things sometimes.”
    “But never quite like this!” Siv said.
    She was right. Never quite like this.
    “Yes,” I said softly. “Never quite like this.” For I, too, was mystified.
    “Grank,” Siv said again, and stepped toward me, her lovely amber eyes glistening. “Are you a mage?” This sent a tremor through me, as well it should have.
    How exactly does the magic of a mage differ from a hagsfiend’s magic? When I was young, there was really only one kind of magic, nachtmagen, or bad magic, the magic of hagsfiends. But it was rumored that there were mages who practiced good magic. Some said the owl we called Hoole had been a mage. But most owls thought that this was pure invention. Good magic was something longed for but few believed it truly existed. I was not sure what had happened to me in that instant when I had lofted into the air and spoken those unintelligible words to the snake. When I came back down onto the ice shelf to face Siv’s questions I was in a daze. I tried to reply honestly.
    “I don’t know. I don’t know what happened. It was not like firesight at all. It was much more. But if I have magic…”
    In that instant I saw them both wilf. They seemed to shrink, and their feathers lay close to their sides.
    “Please,” I begged, “don’t be frightened of me. If you fear me I shall have no one.” I could too easily imagine my friends making the sign with their talons to avert the evileye when I came near, as was the custom if one was suspected of having magical powers.
    It was at that moment that Siv stepped forward. “Never, Grank. We shall always be your friends.” H’rath, too, came close and touched my wing with his talon.
    “Always,” he said. “And we shall speak nothing of these powers of yours. We promise.” And then on that same ice shelf, where the sword, which was supposedly stained with the blood of Hengen, had lain, both Siv and H’rath struck off an ice splinter and pricked the meatiest part of their talons and pressed them together. It was a blood oath.
    “I, H’rath…”
    “And I, Siv…”
    “Do hereby swear,” they spoke in unison, “never to reveal what happened on this ice shelf, and to keep to ourselves the powers that our dearest friend, Grank, possesses. By Glaux, we swear this blood oath.”
    I was deeply touched. There was a slight shiver in my gizzard. I blinked and felt myself rich to have such friends. But yet again I had that awful feeling of being separate. Their loyalty was unquestionable, but as I perched on that shelf of ice watching these two wonderful young owls, I realized that they would always be together and I would always have to be apart. And yet, I thought, perhaps the sum of us would