Sky Wings by Don Conroy

Author:Don Conroy [Conroy, Don]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780862784195
Goodreads: 7379057
Publisher: The O'Brien Press#PrB.rating#4.0
Published: 1992-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The deer addressed the little group: ‘You wish to meet with Hibou, the wise owl. Well, he has agreed to see you. There is safe shelter in this forest for all benign travellers.’

‘I knew there were deer here,’ said Hotchi. ‘I noticed the neat double prints in the soft earth.’

‘Follow me,’ said the tall red creature with the big wide eyes and twelve-pointed antlers.

The sun had sunk behind the trees. They could hear the bubbling song of a blackcap as they moved down the green aisles, following the deer who bounded gracefully through the forest. The birds flitted in and out among the ash, oak, elm, birch and beech. The hedgehog plodded on after them, trying to follow Crag’s swinging brush; he knew he would not get lost as long as he could see that. Bawson sniffed the sweet airs of evening.

‘He lives in the sunset tree,’ said the deer, slowing down and picking his way through the brambles.

There was an air of expectancy as large wondering eyes stared and searched for the great owl. ‘We wait here,’ the deer instructed. They crouched, waiting and listening. The forest glade was silent and seemed deserted. The evening was balmy and warm.

Sacer scanned the still unexplored places. What secrets were hidden here? She sat brooding and wondering. The feeling were somehow akin to what she felt when she stayed with the ravens on the Sacred Cliffs.

The rich yellow light was gone, and the evening shadows had moved in. They were all aware of a special quality in the silence.

‘Why is it called the sunset tree?’ asked Vega, breaking the silence.

The deer looked at the kestrel. ‘Long years ago ...’ his mind seemed to leaf through the pages of time, ‘the owls were the keepers of the Sacred Feather ... It was hidden in the hollow trunk and each evening it would glow. The tree would light up like the sun. Soon the oak got the name the sunset tree.’

They had all witnessed the beauty and power of the Sacred Feather. Now, finding the base of the mighty oak, their eyes followed slowly up along the biggest and oldest tree in the forest. Despite its partly hollow trunk, it had a massive canopy. Above the forest, stars pierced the velvet sky. A faint breeze ran through the leaves where ivy climbed to the first fork of the tree. A hole was clearly visible. The outline of an owl’s head could just be discerned in the opening. As they gazed in wonder and awe he peered down at them, then slowly moved out on to the bough, ruffled his feathers, stretched his wings and flexed his claws.

The ancient eagle owl wore a solemn look as, opening his massive wings, he swooped down and alighted on a hollow log.

‘I am Hibou, the keeper of the forest,’ he declared.

CHAPTER 17

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