Free A Guide Book to the Great Tree by Kathryn Huang Page B

don’t have to know.”
    The Snowy was taken aback. “Well, I never! You are a presumptuous owl, aren’t you? Absolutely not! That harp is a treasure of Ga’Hoole, it shall not leave this tree!”

    â€œQuite right, quite right,” Honeyvox replied, a bit too readily, “I don’t know what I was thinking. Foolish idea, obviously. Never mind, sir. Never mind.”
    His plan having failed, Honeyvox knew he had to find another way. But how? He couldn’t imagine ever singingagain without the accompaniment of the harp. He realized, too, that even if he was able to get the harp away from the tree, there would be no one to play it—the nest-maid snakes of the harp guild were the only ones who could play the instrument. And it was clear that the stewards of the tree wanted him to leave.
    Before Honeyvox knew it, he was coming up on the second month of his stay. He was running out of time. He stayed up all day to think. Why take the harp with me when I can simply stay with the harp? But, they would never have two resident singers here. Blast it!
    Sir Lucien Plonk was an obstacle. Honeyvox would have to get rid of him somehow. He couldn’t kill the Snowy, that would be…unseemly. He must find another way. By early evening, he had found the solution. It was one that would require guile and unwavering nerves on the part of the Tropical Screech. He swallowed a good glug of bingle juice for courage, and flew off to the infirmary hollow.
    Bloodroot is a plant that’s commonly used by the healer owls of Ga’Hoole to this day. Its juice is used to treat a myriad of symptoms from sore throats to gray scale. In small doses, it helps to relieve discomfort. In large doses, it is highly toxic. It was rumored that it could damage a bird’s throat, causing it to become permanentlymute. Honeyvox hoped that there was truth to this rumor. Just before all the other owls woke, he gathered all the bloodroot juice he could find and stole quietly out of the infirmary.
    When night fell, Honeyvox approached Sir Lucien. He would have to choose his words carefully so as not to raise suspicion. He anxiously took another slug of his bingle juice. “Say, Sir Lucien, I hope there are no hard feelings between us. I meant no disrespect the other night. Why don’t you have a drink with me in the guest hollow…to, um, set things right?”
    To Honeyvox’s relief, Sir Lucien graciously agreed.
    In the guest hollow, where Honeyvox had been staying for the last many weeks, he set out two nut cups. He filled both with his own special reserve of bingle juice. Into one of the cups, he added a stiff dose of the bloodroot juice he had stolen. Luckily for him, bloodroot is odorless, and its slightly sour taste was easily masked by the much stronger flavor of the bingle juice.
    It was almost time. Honeyvox started to feel a little wobbly in the gizzard. He wasn’t sure if it was the jitters or the bingle juice that was making his head spin.
    Sir Lucien arrived exactly when he said he would. The two owls awkwardly exchanged pleasantries. They talked of the weather and of the coming spring…Boring,pointless conversation that Honeyvox could barely pay attention to. All the while, he eyed Sir Lucien’s cup nervously—the Snowy had not taken a single sip while his own cup was already empty, despite having been refilled twice.
    Down the hatch, you wretched owl! Go on, take a sip. For the love of Glaux, just one sip!
    â€œOh, the time of the Silver Rain can be so lovely, my favorite time of the year, really,” Sir Plonk droned on and on. It was a wonder that the old owl didn’t grow thirsty with all this chitchat.
    Honeyvox nodded, and then nodded some more while trying to think of a way to get the Snowy to drink his poison. He kept refilling his own cup in an attempt to send a subliminal message to his guest. Driiiink, Sir Plonk, driiiink…
    Finally, in desperation, he raised