Free The Wizard's Map by Jane Yolen Page B

beasties? I am surprised ye could unbind them at all—but they’ll be as little use to ye as they were to me.” He held up his right hand and counted off on his fingers. “One—a dragon so filled wf anger he canna direct his flame. Two—a one-horn so treacherous, she canna be trusted to speak the truth. And three—that misbegotten dog that now trembles at yer side. Could ye count on such a coward? I could not. Och, lass—ye would ha’e done better on yer own.”
    Secretly Jennifer agreed with him. But she would not let that show. The animals had already come this far with her, showing themselves beholden for their unbinding. Besides, they were all that she had. So she said, much more boldly than she felt, “Perhaps they are..."and then stopped. She wasn’t sure what word she wanted. Suddenly she saw a reflection of herself and the creatures in the wall of ice and knew what to say. “Perhaps they are
mirrors
of their master.”
    The dog made a noise, a low, throaty sound, not exactly a growl. It took a moment for Jennifer to realize he was chuckling.
    â€œEnough of this blether,” the wizard said petulantly. He snapped his fingers, and another shadow stepped out of the darkness to stand by his side. “Redcap, for yer hunger, tak the dragon.”
    The figure now in the light was something out of a nightmare: a muscular man-creature with skinny fingers that ended in eagle talons, large fiery red eyes that glowed in the dark, and grisly grey hair that lay lank upon his shoulders. He wore iron boots laced up with wire, a stained leather loincloth, and an odd red cap that perched on top of his head. A pikestaff was gripped tightly in his left hand.
    â€œYe’ll like this, lass,” the wizard said, once more smiling. “He delights in keeping his cap red by dipping it in blood.”
    â€œThe demon,” she whispered to herself, remembering that Michael Scot had said he liked to eat boys. “The last figure in a corner of the map.”
    As if he had heard her, Redcap grinned. His teeth were long and pointed, like a tiger’s. He lifted the pikestaff and looked toward her—but he seemed to be looking through her to the dragon, who stood behind Jennifer, trembling.

Seventeen
Wizard’s Power
    Tak him!” ordered Michael Scot.
    At his master’s voice, Redcap leaped forward and, with the staff, swept Jennifer to one side. She tumbled head over heels and crashed against one of the ice columns, shattering it.
    Out stumbled Peter, who, white and cold, collapsed at her feet. The turban, which had been in his possession, fell to the cave floor, spilling out the red jewel.
    Jennifer was about to put her arms around him, to warm and comfort him, when an awful scream made her look up.
    Redcap had stuck his pike, the cruel knife part of it, up under the dragon’s chin and with a mighty shove had tom an enormous hole in the creature’s throat. Then he had casually taken off his red cap and dipped it in the waterfall of blood.
    The dragon was still screaming, a horrible bubbling sound, and in his agony he let go a great gout of flame that crossed the cave and seared the columns of ice. At the same time, the unicorn was stamping its hooves on the cave floor, making a rat-tat-a-tatting like a funeral drum.
    â€œNo!” Jennifer cried, and started forward to help, even knowing she could not get there in time. So she picked up the jewel, which was now as large as a baseball, thinking maybe she could throw it at the demon and distract him.
    But the minute she put her hand on the jewel, the hideous Redcap screamed and dropped the pikestaff, though no one had touched him.
    Jennifer looked down at the jewel in her hand. It was pulsing like a heart. She squeezed it, and Redcap screamed again.
    Quite determinedly, she took the key and scratched it along the surface of the jewel. The key left a deep mark in the red stone, and it looked like a