Free The Shattering (Guardians of Ga'hoole) by Kathryn Lasky Page A

vividly remembered Ezylryb’s mangled talon pointing to the diagram. In an older owl, exposure to flecks could disturb the humors, and cause navigational problems, but in a younger owl like herself—yes, and like Eglantine—it could shatter all internal systems. Ezylryb’s words were so clear now it was as if the old Whiskered Screech’s voice was inside her own head.
    The gizzard itself becomes almost like stone, incapable of sorting out feelings and emotions. It can even cause delusions. That is what fleckasia is all about.
    Primrose now knew: She was being shattered, and Eglantine already had been!
    “Hey!” the Sooty Owl called in. “Didn’t I tell you to bed down? Do I have to come in there and sit on you?”
    At your own risk, thought Primrose. She had to stall for time. “Sure, sure, just have to yarp a pellet,” she answered.
    “Well, yarp and get to sleep.” Then she heard the Sooty give a big yawn.
    She went to a corner of the hollow to yarp. She felt better as soon as the pellet came up, but she wasn’t sure if it was because of relieving herself of the pellet or just stepping away from the nest. Obviously, flecks had been embedded in the nest materials. Then she remembered several times when she had awakened in her hollow at the Great Ga’Hoole Tree and Eglantine had been restless with her supposedly “lovely” dreams. An image came back to her. It was Ginger bent over Eglantine, patting her as if to soothe her, but maybe she was not soothing her. Maybe she was poking in flecks. Glaux knew where she got them.
    “Finished with that yarp yet? Now back to bed or I’m calling Her Pureness.”
    Oh, Glaux, Primrose thought. I am right in the middle of something really bad. She had to think fast. She couldn’t scatter the nest because the flecks would drift all over the place. She touched the amber bead that she wore around her neck. Good-luck charm, she thought. Well, show your stuff . She rubbed it absently with one of her tiny talons, then let the chain it hung from drop back down on her breastfeathers. She felt an odd ruffle and looked down. She blinked. All the soft feathers in which the amber bead lay were sticking straight out. She blinked again. She had never seen her feathers or any owl’s feathers do that.
    “Get to bed.”
    “All right, all right.”
    The light in the hollow was quite dim and outside it was very bright. If this Sooty was keeping watch on her, he would have to constantly adjust his eyes because of the contrast of light. The first idea that came to Primrose was to arrange herself in the nest so that the back of her head was facing the Sooty. A Pygmy Owl had two dark, feathery spots on the back of its head that were called eyespots. For owls not accustomed to flying behind a Pygmy, these eyespots could be disorienting and cause confusion. With the back of her head facing him, she could examine the amber bead more carefully, which was exactly what she planned to do. She crouched down in the pile of moss and downy fluff. Once more, the buzzing began to niggle into her head. But Primrose was determined. She rubbed the amber again. The feathers stood up and she felt a slight prickling sensation. Not only that, but a small bit of moss seemed to almost jump to the amber drop. That was interesting. She tried it again. Glaux! There was all sorts of stuff clinging to the amber bead. This can’t be a magnet. It’s not ironor even magnetic rock. She knew that from her metal class with Bubo. Amber was fossilized sap from an evergreen tree. And what could amber do? Holy Glaux in glaumora, it’s charged. I rubbed it, and it’s become charged!
    Primrose realized if the amber wasn’t a magnet, how else would things be drawn to it? It must have been her rubbing it that did it. Yes, Bubo had often called amber “fool’s iron,” and she guessed if you rubbed it, it became a sort of magnet. So if I rub this hard enough and often enough and then poke it down into the moss, what will