The Owl Keeper (30 page)

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tree, darting and skimming amid the top branches. Was his owl there with the others? "Can you see them, Rose?"

"Oh no, everything's gone white again!" she said, and Max could hear the sorrow in her voice. "But I can imagine what they look like."

Max felt a pain in his heart. Rose was so brave.

Max hooted and called, but still there was no sign of his owl. Lightning flared--pure white flashes across the sky--throwing the scene into disarray. He saw Miranda and Helios at the top of the path, leaping in the snow. And with sudden clarity he realized that the Owl Keeper and silver owls belonged not only to him but to Rose as well. It was a tale of danger and friendship and astonishing adventures, and it bound them together.

Hands linked, they ran up the path to the tower. Max saw the huge wooden door fly open, spilling light across the cobblestones. With mounting apprehension, he glimpsed a tall shadow framed in the entrance.

The Owl Keeper stood waiting for them.

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CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

[Image: The tower.]

Transfixed, Max stared up at the tower. It seemed to expand as he climbed the path, filling the sky with incandescent light. He had never seen a building so strange or intriguing.

The owl tower was a massive structure, exactly as his grandmother had described: six stories high and built of polished stone, with balconies and dormers and a steep thatched roof that rose to a point. Smoke billowed out of a tall brick chimney. Behind the mullioned windows on the lower floors a warm, welcoming light glowed. Just below the roof Max could see tiny round holes through which silver owls flew in and out.

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"We goes to the Owl Keeper!" yelled Miranda, running up to Rose and taking her hand.

Max hung back, hands in pockets, feeling shy. He gazed at the tower, the owls, the silver tree, wary and uncertain as a young child. He called again for his silver owl and his heart sank when he heard no answer. All he could hear was the echo of his pulse in his ears.

Rose and Miranda ran off, Helios loping behind them. The Owl Keeper stood waiting, silhouetted beneath the tree, rough woven cloak snapping in the wind. A line of silver owls swooped down, forming a brilliant arc, and one small owl broke away and flew off. Max felt suddenly lonely, thinking of his own owl.

Dwarfed by the massive tree, Miranda and Rose ran to the Owl Keeper, dresses trailing in the snow. Chittering merrily, Miranda skipped off with the Helios, shouting to the silver owls, while Rose stood talking to the Owl Keeper.

Snow flicked past on the wind as Max headed up to the tower. Would the Owl Keeper be angry because he hadn't brought his silver owl? Not
his
owl, he thought ruefully, the silver owl had never been
his
--he had no claim to her.

He tramped along the path, bristling with anticipation. He could see Rose, hat strings fluttering, deep in conversation with the Owl Keeper. Drawing closer, he noticed worn carvings on the sides of the tower--circles, spirals and zigzags--ancient as the spells in the stories his gran had told him. Wonder and anticipation stirred within him.

The Owl Keeper held up a glowing shell. It was shaped the same as Gran's shell, though slightly larger, and the sight of it somehow reassured Max. Yet as he hurried on, irrational fears

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took hold of him. Was Rose safe? What was happening? The Owl Keeper looked so strange and wild, yet so oddly familiar.

The hands of the Owl Keeper grew luminous as light streamed from the shell into Rose's eyes. Max could see the Owl Keeper growing more and more transparent, dissolving into light and air. His arms broke out in goose bumps. Snow fell in dizzying currents, landing on his nose and eyelashes, dusting the path. He sensed that the ground beneath his feet had become enchanted, brimming with magic and power.

As he stepped off the path, powdery snow flew around him; he heard a familiar hooting and the whoosh of beating wings overhead. In a flash his silver owl swooped down, landing on his shoulder, nudging her beak against his face. She looked at Max with eyes that were sad and wise and ancient, as if to say,
I'm home.

Max gave a long, happy sigh. His owl had returned.

Beneath the tree, the Owl Keeper raised one arm above Rose, and with a shock Max realized the Owl Keeper was a woman! The silver owl cried out and Max stared in disbelief, eyes fixed on the sharp profile and blowing hair, the shell glowing around the Owl Keeper's neck. Lightning flashed and he saw her face as she turned: long and craggy, framed in a swirl of snow-white hair, so striking it seemed carved out of ice. In that instant she appeared goddesslike, immortal.

The Owl Keeper caught sight of Max as he sprinted madly toward her. Calling his name, she waved her arms, beckoning him. He ran so fast his woolen cap flew off. Then he was there, standing before the Owl Keeper, unable to believe his eyes. The silver owl hooted joyously from his shoulder.

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"Gran!" Max fell into her arms, sobbing. "It's really you!" Tears blurred his vision.

"Oh, Max, you're here at last! I've waited so long!" His grandmother held him close and Max smelled the musty scent of old books. "And your parents? Are they--"

"They're still in Cavernstone Grey!" Sobs racked his body. To his embarrassment, they wouldn't stop. "Oh, Gran, I ran away without telling them and now they're moving to the dome! What if I never see them again?"

"Oh, Max." She held him closer, and he knew she was crying too. "We'll find your parents, we'll get them back somehow--I promise." She brushed away his tears, then stepped back, snow crunching beneath her boots, looking taller than he remembered. "Oh my, what a great distance you've traveled--and look how you've grown!"

Max studied his grandmother's face. "I can't believe I found you!" he cried, afraid to blink and find her gone. "I can't believe you're real!" He turned to Rose. "This is my gran, Rose!"

Rose's voice was low and breathy. "I thought you went to prison. Did you escape?" In her eyes Max could see a look of stunned admiration--eyes, he realized, that were once again clear and watchful.

"Yes, I managed to escape," Gran replied. "But that's a story for another day."

Gran's eyes, Max noticed, were a pale silvery blue--like old glass, he thought, glinting in the sunlight. He remembered her eyes being a much darker, stonier shade of blue. Had the light from the silver owls changed her eyes? How could that be?

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"You sent the silver owl to me, didn't you, Gran?" he said, holding his little owl against his chest. "I thought she was the last silver owl in the world!"

"Yeah," piped up Rose. "Me too."

"In a sense, she
is
the last silver owl," said Gran, reaching out to smooth the owl's feathers. "She is the last remaining owl who remembers the ancient OwlSong. The other silver owls are still alive, but they have fallen silent. Hunted down and attacked by the dark forces, their powers are diminished, and they have lost their ability to sing the OwlSong." Gently she stroked the owl's curved beak. "One dark night I heard this small owl singing outside the window of my prison cell. I knew then there was still hope. I wrote a message to you for her to deliver, knowing she was brave and loyal and determined--like you, Max."

Max beamed. Gran had paid him the highest compliment, comparing him to the silver owl. He thought how wise and kind Gran was, how he had missed her all these years.

"She turned up in the owl tree with a broken wing, all covered with snow," he told Gran. "I was afraid of her at first, but then we became friends. She really is a brave owl." At this the owl fluffed her feathers a bit. Max looked up at Gran. "She helped us find our way here."

"I've no doubt the path was long and treacherous, but you never gave up, did you? You kept going."

Max kicked at the snow, uncertain of how to respond. He hadn't done any of it on his own. "I'm only here because of Rose and the silver owl," he said. "The owl fought off skræks and plague wolves, and Rose saved us from the Misshapens! Lots of

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times Rose couldn't see, but she believed we'd find our way; she said the path would take us here and she was right."

"Hmmm," mused Gran. "
'Blind child comes leading
..." I am honored to meet you, Rose." She bent down and hugged her.

"I never thought I'd ever meet you," whispered Rose, hugging her back.

Gran turned to Max. "You had everything of which the Silver Prophecy speaks--Rose, the silver owl, your own courageous heart--and together they led you here."

"Max says he isn't brave, but that's not true. He's braver than any person I know." Rose jutted out her sharp chin. "He fought off the Misshapens and plague wolves and skræsks, and a lunatic doctor! It was really scary, but he got us here in the end."

Embarrassed, Max stared at the tops of his boots. No one had said such nice things about him in a long time.

"Just because there were times you were frightened doesn't mean you weren't brave," said Gran, placing a hand on Max's shoulder. "Without doubt, it is the greatest act of courage that is often the most fearful."

He smiled up at Gran, thinking how she had been his first teacher in these matters. Everything he knew about bravery he had learned from her.

"You's different, Rose!" Miranda squealed. Max looked over to see the young girl covered head to foot in snow, her cheeks glowing red. "Your eyes is bright!"

It was true: Rose's eyes were luminous. Max could see they shone with a silvery green light.

"Rose told me she was struck by a poisoned arrow," said Gran.

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"She feared she was going blind. I thought of the Seraph Shell-- a sacred shell with magical properties--and I transferred some of its healing power into Rose's eyes."

Max glanced at Rose again. She looked radiant, but even so, all these things Gran was saying sounded a bit highbrow and mystical to him.

Rose gave a lopsided smile. "Now I can see auras. I see them everywhere! Your aura is beautiful, Granny Unger." Gran smiled. "Thank you, Rose."

"Mrs. Crumlin and Dr. Tredegar plotted against us!" said Max, feeling the old rage build up inside him. "Tredegar told my parents I was allergic to the sun, but it wasn't true!"

"Everything that quack told you was a pack of lies," said Rose with a sniff, "and that witchy old Crumlin brewing you up poisoned hot cocoa!"

"They tried to make me forget about you, Gran!" said Max. "They gave me drugs to make me think everything I learned about the Sages and silver owls were fairy tales!"

Gran held up one hand. "I think you'd better slow down, both of you. My head is spinning--"

But Max couldn't stop talking. "Mrs. Crumlin was a spy for the High Echelon! She turned you in, Gran! She and Tredegar tried to trick me into becoming a Skræk Master!"

Rose gave a little cry. "Max, you never told me! And skræks kill
silver owls!"

The silver owl shuddered. Max, aware of her distress, stroked her, calming her down.

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Gran gave a ragged sigh. "I knew your life would not be an easy one, Max. I knew from the moment you were born."

Max watched snow sift down, melting on Gran's hair and cloak. Overhead, a ray of sunlight broke through the clouds. He studied his grandmother's face, expecting to find bitterness or regret from her years spent in prison, so far from the people she loved, yet he saw only a calm serenity. She was still Gran from long ago, of course, yet he knew she was far more: healer, enchantress, a keeper of owls.

Was she
the
Owl Keeper? He wasn't sure.

"I knew you were a Night Seer, Max," Gran continued, "capable of great things." She tousled his shaggy hair, something she used to do when he was small. "If only I could have kept that fact from the authorities. Unfortunately that was impossible: you were identified by the High Echelon at birth."

Capable of great things?
Max blushed, hearing such an extravagant phrase used to describe him.

"Why does the High Echelon hate Night Seers so much?" asked Rose.

"Centuries ago the Night Seers were half-magical beings who lived in the forests," explained Gran. "They had a special bond with the silver owls because they spoke the language of the owls. The High Echelon has been trying to break this connection by sending Night Seers to work underground, where they won't be able to communicate with the silver owls."

"I hate the High Echelon," declared Max, clenching his fists, thinking of the heartache and pain they had caused.

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"I'm a Night Seer too," boasted Rose. "Can you tell, Granny Unger?"

"Oh yes, Rose, I can. It is a marvelous gift." Gran glanced over at Miranda, who was leaping in the air trying to catch a silver owl. "This child is also a Night Seer, though perhaps she is unaware."

"I's what?" Miranda stopped dead in her tracks, flicking her tongue over her lips and frowning.

"It's nothing to be afraid of," said Max, seeing the girl's worried expression.

"You're a Night Seer, not a ghostie or an ice-mummy!" added Rose. "It's a talent you were born with."

Miranda's too young to know what it means to be a Night Seer, thought Max, watching the little girl clap her hands and throw her hat into the air. Helios leapt straight up, ears flopping like a comic-book dog, catching Miranda's hat in his mouth. But one day ... one day, he told himself, she'll find out how special she is.