could scarcely believe his old eyes. He was diving and rising with such ease, it astounded the old owl who once knew him so well.
The dire wolves whom he had befriended had been telling one another sensational tales of the special owl who would retrieve the ember. In the beginning, Uglamore gave little credence to their talk, thinking the dire wolves were overly dramatic and superstitious. But as he watched Coryn—always careful that the young one did not see him—he knew that it was all true. The young Barn Owl whom he had cared for as a father would a son was none other than the true heir to King Hoole. And Coryn was about to prove himself by retrieving the Ember of Hoole.
Uglamore thought back to that night in the Shadow Forest where he saw Nyroc sleeping with a crown of light upon his head, and it all made sense.
Coryn. His name is Coryn now. And just like that, the young owl had done something that the old owl was never able to do—he had chosen his own name. Remarkable. And you’ve chosen your own destiny, young’un. Perhaps I can still choose mine.
Suddenly, howls and cheers from creatures of air and land filled Uglamore’s ear slits. “The new king lives! Long live Coryn, Heir of Hoole!” Even a wandering caribou herd brayed, “Long live Coryn, the King!”
He had done it! Coryn had retrieved the legendary Ember of Hoole from the depth of the great volcano. It didn’t matter that he was once the obedient son of a Pure One. It didn’t matter that he never lived up to the name given to him at his hatching. He had rejected that name and all it meant. He had free will. The old Barn Owl wept with joy.
But what was this at the edge of Uglamore’s tearblurred vision? Nyra skulking in the shadows. The mother who had failed to turn her son to the vile ways of the Pure Ones was here to stop him from retrieving the ember—or worse! Uglamore scanned the creatures near and far for someone who might help. All were lost in rejoicing. Then, he caught the eye of the old tracker, Doc Finebeak. The tracker nodded and flew to Uglamore and lighted down at his side.
“She’s going to do something,” he said.
Uglamore nodded.
“She’ll make a move soon. We have to be ready. Are you up to it?” the tracker asked the old lieutenant.
Uglamore was indeed ready. Ready to cast off his past with the Pure Ones along with the name they’d given him, ready to redeem the shreds of good still left in his own gizzard. Ready to give his life for a young king.
The rest of the story, I think you already know. Uglamore protected Coryn until the very end. When Nyra threatened to steal the Ember of Hoole from her son and kill him in so doing, Uglamore was there to stop her. He died valiantly in the process. He gave his life for the true king. And now that the full story of this brave owl is known, the legend of Uglamore can be told and retold by owls and wolves alike.
FOUR
Brothers Brave and Blustery
T avis and Cletus may not be familiar names to many in the world of Ga’Hoole, but for those of us who have gotten to know them, their colorful history and characters are unforgettable.
You know, of course, dear reader, the story of Twilight, one of the Band, who grew up an orphan after his mother, the renowned poet Skye, died mysteriously soon after his hatching. But did you know that Twilight has two older brothers? None of us, including Twilight, knew of the existence of these two Great Grays until recently. It was a jubilant reunion for the three brothers. And these same two brothers, Tavis and Cletus, were pivotal in our victory over the revitalized forces of Nyra and the Striga in the War of the Ember.
But there is much more to these two owls than their recent exploits. Since the War of the Ember, Tavis and Cletus have chosen to take up residence at the great tree, where they have been a font of knowledge—not necessarily academic knowledge, mind you, but practical knowledge that can be gained only from living life in