“The red comet burns … ,” Svenna heard the Mystress of the Chimes whisper. The bears had gathered on the parapets and balconies beneath the clock face and were looking up at the sky. Hurtling through the bitter cold night, the comet’s red light bled across the Ice Cap of the Ublunkyn, staining the white pelts of the bears.
“And now the chaos begins,” the Mystress of the Chimes muttered.
Svenna was surprised that the Mystress of the Chimes, one of the highest-ranking Timekeepers, would even whisper such dangerous words. She rarely disclosed her thoughts. She was a riddle, this fantastically beautiful she-bear Galilya, Mystress of the Chimes. Her elegant head was tipped back as she looked at the stars bathed in the red afterglow of the comet. Her fur, the whitest that Svenna had ever seen, was tinged pink. There was something unearthly about her eerie beauty. She was also deceptive and treacherous, as Svenna had discovered since serving in her den.
“Chaos? How so, Mystress?” Svenna asked cautiously.
Galilya regarded her sharply, as if it was Svenna’s fault that she had ears and had overheard her.
“How so? Superstition, my dear! And sorcery!” She gave a strange chuckle that was more like a bark than a bear chuff. “Superstition embraced by sorcery, a dangerous union.”
The words sent a chill through Svenna. The word sorcery sounded unnatural to Svenna, unbearlike. But the Ice Cap was an unnatural place. Bears did not behave like bears here.
Then the air was shattered with a terrible screeching. An immense shape plummeted down from the highest parapet toward the ice ramparts. Shrieks of horror erupted from every bear watching—except the Mystress of the Chimes.
“What … what is that?” Svenna asked.
“Was,” the Mystress said calmly. “That was our Chronos.”
“The Chronos? Ivor Ahknah?” Svenna was aghast. Her ears flattened against her head and she felt her guard hairs stiffen. The Chronos was the second-highest officer of the Timekeepers, just under the Grand Patek. Together they oversaw the sacred duties that kept the Ice Clock ticking flawlessly. They believed that by worshipping the clock, it would prevent the next Great Melting. Although Svenna knew this was nonsense, she’d learned the hard way what happened to bears who questioned the power of the clock.
“Yes, Ivor Ahknah.”
“But he has been here forever.” He had been revered by the Timekeepers. Why this violent end?
“Sometimes forever is too long.” The Mystress sighed. “And what a mess to clean up.” Turning crisply, the elegant bear walked into the darkness of an ice tunnel.
A hush had fallen over the Ice Clock. Then the voice of the Grand Patek rang out through the ice horn echoers.
“The great Chronos Ivor Ahknah is dead, as foretold by the arrival of the red comet, as written in The Auspices of Celestial Events. Long live the new Chronos, Torsenvryk Torsen.”
This is a cursed place, Svenna thought. But she’d do what it took to survive.
Of all the kingdoms in all the world, from the Nunquivik to the Northern Kingdoms of Ga’Hoole, from Ga’Hoole to the place of the wolves in the Beyond, there was no bear more determined than Svenna. She’d do whatever necessary. She would kill. She would destroy the clock. She would give up her life if she had to, as long as she could die knowing that her cubs were safe.