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

whole time.”
    “I agree,” said Primrose. “Who wants a festival to be all serious? I’m hoping to pick up a few wet-poop jokes.”
    “Why, I never!” Otulissa said, genuinely shocked. “You know, Primrose, that wet-poop jokes are strictly forbidden at mealtimes.”
    “But they say all the grown-ups get very tipsy and start making them themselves.”
    “Well, I’m sure Strix Struma won’t.” Strix Struma, an elderly Spotted Owl who taught navigation, was one of the most esteemed owls of the tree. She was elegant. She was fierce. And she was revered, especially by Otulissa, who absolutely worshiped the old Spotted Owl. It was difficult, in fact, thinking of Strix Struma doing anything the least bit vulgar. The young Spotted Owl flew off in a huff toward the entrance of the Great Hollow.
    As they passed through, two owls helped to part themoss curtains as they had on the night when Soren, Gylfie, Twilight, and Digger had first arrived nearly a year before. Now, however, the Great Hollow was festooned with strands of milkberry vines that seemed almost to glow in the reflected light of hundreds of candles. The festivities had already begun and owls were swooping in flight to the music of the harp. The great grass harp stood on a balcony and was played by the nest-maid snakes who belonged to the harp guild. Their pink forms glistened as they wove themselves through the strings of the harp. Soren scanned the strings for Mrs. P., who was a sliptween. Only the most talented of the snakes were sliptweens, for they were required to jump octaves. Mrs. P. usually hung around G-flat. Ah, he spotted her!
    Just then, Otulissa swept by wing to wing with Strix Struma doing a kind of stately waltz that owls called the Glaucana. Then Bubo lurched by in a jig with Madame Plonk herself. They were butting flight feathers and laughing uproariously.
    “Already had a tipple, I would say.” Gylfie slid into flight next to Soren. Soren was dying to say, Yes, and we better not. For tonight was the night that they would steal away to find the rogue smith, but not until everyone else was in their cups. Their Ga’Hoole nuts cups contained the milkberry wine or even the more strongly brewed berry mead.Soren could not really say this in front of Primrose for she had not been included in this adventure. And he must be careful around Martin and Ruby as well. They had decided that it should only be their original band and Eglantine who went on this mission to Silverveil. But, in truth, Soren was having serious doubts about Eglantine.
    The plan for getting away was fairly simple. At a certain point well into the evening, the dancing would move outside among the branches. It would be easier to slip away then. They planned to go, if possible, one by one and meet at the cliffs on the far side of the island. Owls very seldom went to that side of the island, for it lengthened any journey across the Sea of Hoolemere. But the wind this evening was light and favorable so it might not lengthen their crossing by too much.
    The evening, however, seemed to drag on and on. Owls were getting tipsy, but would the dancing ever spill over to the outside? Otulissa had come up and insisted on a dance with Soren. He didn’t even like to dance. He felt awkward and stupid. It wasn’t like flying at all, even though it was done in the air. Now Otulissa had taken it on herself to instruct him in this silly dance called the Glauc-glauc.
    “Look, Soren, it’s not that hard. It’s one two, glauc-glauc-glauc. Then backward one two, glauc-glauc-glauc.” Otulissa was batting her eyes and shaking her tail feathers.
    Great Glaux, was she flirting with him? Suddenly, he had an idea. If she was flirting with him he might as well use it to his advantage.
    “You know, Otulissa, I think I could do this better if we were outside.”
    “Oh, that’s an idea!”
    Now, hopefully others would follow.
    Twilight was doing the Glauc-glauc with another Great Gray, and Soren caught