Kathryn Lasky - The Capture

COPYRIGHT

HarperCollins Children’s Books An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.

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London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in the USA by Scholastic Inc 2003

First published in Great Britain as The Capture by HarperCollins Children’s Books 2006

Text copyright © Kathryn Lasky 2003

Kathryn Lasky asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

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Source ISBN: 9780007215171

Ebook Edition © OCTOBER 2016 ISBN: 9780007369782

Version: 2016-12-02

To Ann Reit, Wise Owl, Great Flight Instructor

… and then the forest of the Kingdom of Tyto seemed to grow smaller and smaller and dimmer and dimmer in the night …

CONTENTS

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One: A Nest Remembered

Chapter Two: A Life Worth Two Pellets

Chapter Three: Snatched!

Chapter Four: St Aegolius Academy for Orphaned Owls

Chapter Five: Moon Blinking

Chapter Six: Separate Pits, One Mind

Chapter Seven: The Great Scheme

Chapter Eight: The Pelletorium

Chapter Nine: Good Nurse Finny

Chapter Ten: Right Side Up in an Upside-down World

Chapter Eleven: Gylfie’s Discovery

Chapter Twelve: Moon Scalding

Chapter Thirteen: Perfection!

Chapter Fourteen: The Eggorium

Chapter Fifteen: The Hatchery

Chapter Sixteen: Hortense’s Story

Chapter Seventeen: Save the Egg!

Chapter Eighteen: One Bloody Night

Chapter Nineteen: To Believe

Chapter Twenty: Grimble’s Story

Chapter Twenty-One: To Fly

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Shape of the Wind

Chapter Twenty-Three: Flying Free

Chapter Twenty-Four: Empty Hollows

Chapter Twenty-Five: Mrs P!

Chapter Twenty-Six: Desert Battle

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Hortense’s Eagles

Keep Reading

About the Author

Other Books By

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

A Nest Remembered

“Noctus, can you spare a bit more down, darling? I think our third little one is about to arrive. That egg is beginning to crack.”

“Not again!” sighed Kludd.

“What do you mean, Kludd, not again? Don’t you want another little brother?” his father said. There was an edge to his voice.

“Or sister?” His mother sighed the low soft whistle Barn Owls sometimes used.

“I’d like a sister,” Soren peeped up.

“You just hatched out two weeks ago.” Kludd turned to Soren, his younger brother. “What do you know about sisters?”

Maybe, Soren thought to himself, they would be better than brothers. Kludd seemed to have resented him since the moment he had first hatched.

“You really wouldn’t want them arriving just when you’re about to begin branching,” Kludd said dully. Branching was the first step, literally, towards flight. The young owlets would begin by hopping from branch to branch and flapping their wings.

“Now, now, Kludd!” his father admonished. “Don’t be impatient. There’ll be time for branching. Remember, you won’t have your flight feathers for at least another month or more.”

Soren was just about to ask what a month was when he heard a crack. The owl family all seemed to freeze. To any other forest creature the sound would have been imperceptible. But Barn Owls were blessed with extraordinary hearing.

“It’s coming!” Soren’s mother gasped. “I’m so excited.” She sighed again and looked rapturously at the pure white egg as it rocked back and forth. A tiny hole appeared and from it protruded a small spur.

“The egg tooth, by Glaux!” Soren’s father exclaimed.

“Mine was bigger wasn’t it, Da?” Kludd shoved Soren aside for a better look, but Soren crept back up under his father’s wing.

“Oh, I don’t know, son. But isn’t it a pretty, glistening little point? Always gives me a thrill. Such a tiny little thing pecking its way into the big wide world. Ah! Bless my gizzard, the wonder of it all.”

It did indeed seem a wonder. Soren stared at the hole that now began to split into two or three cracks. The egg shuddered slightly and the cracks grew longer and wider. He had done this himself just two weeks ago. This was exciting.

“What happened to my egg tooth, Mum?”

“It dropped off, stupid,” Kludd said.

“Oh,” Soren said quietly. His parents were so absorbed in the hatching that they didn’t reprimand Kludd for his rudeness.

“Where’s Mrs P? Mrs P?” his mother said urgently.

“Right here, ma’am.” Mrs Plithiver, the old blind snake who had been with the owl family for years and years, slithered into the hollow. Blind snakes, born without eyes, served as nest-maids and were kept by many owls to make sure the nests were clean and free of maggots and various insects that found their way into the hollows.

“Mrs P, no maggots or vermin in that corner where Noctus put in fresh down.”

“’Course not, ma’am. Now, how many broods of owlets have I been through with you?”

“Oh, sorry, Mrs P. How could I have ever doubted you? I’m always nervous at the hatching. Each one is just like the first time. I never get used to it.”

“Don’t you apologise, ma’am. You think any other birds would care two whits if their nest was clean? The stories I’ve heard about seagulls! Oh, my goodness! Well, I won’t even go into it.”

Blind snakes prided themselves on working for owls, whom they considered the noblest of birds. Meticulous, the blind snakes had great disdain for other birds, which they felt were less clean due to the unfortunate digestive processes that caused them to excrete only sloppy wet droppings instead of nice neat bundles – the pellets that owls yarped, or coughed up. Although owls did digest the soft parts of their food in a manner similar to other birds, and indeed passed it in a liquid form, for some reason they were never associated by blind snakes with these lesser digestive processes. All the fur and bones and tiny teeth of their prey, like mice, that could not be digested in the ordinary way were pressed into little pellets just the shape and size of the owl’s gizzard. Several hours after eating, the owls would yarp them up. ‘Wet poopers’ is how many nest-maid snakes referred to other birds. Of course, Mrs Plithiver was much too proper to use such coarse language.

“Mum!” Soren gasped. “Look at that.” The nest suddenly seemed to reverberate with a huge cracking sound. Again, only huge to the sensitive ear slits of Barn Owls. Now the egg split. A pale slimy blob flopped out.