Guardian's of GaHoole #7: The Hatchling
And now the time has come to honor our fallen leader
in the manner befitting a great soldier Uglamore intones.
Nyra motioned to Nyroc to step back toward the wall of the cave.
Gwyndor, the rogue smith, came up the to place where the bones
of Kludd lay and spread dry twigs and bark over them. He took
an ember from his bucket and set it on the twigs. Flames sprung
up from the bones. Suddenly shadows were leaping and sliding
through the cave. Nyroc blinked. Never had he seen such shadows.
They were huge. The flickering light of the fire made them jigger
and jump in an odd dance across the stone face of the cave.
A bright, insistent thought flooded Nyroc's mind. It is the
light that makes shadows. Look to the light. Look to the flame.
Them he looked into the flames. His gizzard lurched. I am supposed
to be seeing the bones of my father burning, he thought, but
I am seeing something else.
Nyra was chanting a song for fallen warriors and all the other
owls were watching her except for Gwyndor, the rogue smith.
He was watching Nyroc, watching the way the young owl stared
unblinking into the gizzard of this fire.
The young 'un is seeing something in the flames he thought,
something no one else can see.