Free ICAP 2 - The Hidden Gallery by Maryrose Wood

almost like a familiar place to me. Let us put it somewhere safe to dry.”
    Pleased, Alexander spread the picture on a window-sill and weighed the corners down with books so it would not blow away.
    â€œCassawoof done, too.” Cassiopeia waved her page around, eager to hear her teacher’s praise. Penelope took hold of the drawing with a smile that quickly faded, for the child had filled the page with a tall, menacing scribble of brown. It had a white stripe across its middle and what looked like a red shirt above.
    The figure held up its arms in a most threatening way. Worse, it possessed long, sharp claws that dripped with streaks of red—was it supposed to be blood?
    â€œAhbear,” Cassiopeia explained proudly. Then she held out her arms and stiffened her fingers, just like the claws in the picture. “Grrrrrrrr!” she growled, showing her teeth. She lurched toward her elder brother with bear arms outstretched.
    Alexander, playing along, lifted his arm as if it were a musket—
    â€œYes, yes, I understand,” Penelope interrupted, as she anxiously pressed Alexander’s arm down and away. “You have drawn a bear, but you are also thinking of the guard’s uniform, so the bear is wearing clothes. But it is still a bear, and a frightening one, too.”
    â€œAhbear,” Cassiopeia agreed. Playfully she added one last, bloodthirsty growl: “Ahbearrrrrrrrr!”
    â€œSuch convincing bear noises, Cassiopeia! If you are not careful, you may well end up on the stage yourself. Now, let us see what Beowulf has done.” Penelope was determined to change the subject away from evil bears and dangerous muskets. And she knew Beowulf was quite talented at drawing; by now he had no doubt sketched a scale diagram of Buckingham Palace’s fluted columns and soothing symmetrical features, with no bloody claws to be seen. At least, that is what Penelope hoped.
    â€œNot finished,” he said humbly, then shrugged and held out the page.
    Beowulf’s picture was far more elaborate than those of his siblings, and it did need a bit more work coloring in the background, but the gist of it was on full, frightening view.
    In the sky: a full moon, its eerie glow partially obscured by dark, swirling clouds.
    In the foreground: the dense, ferny undergrowth of a forest, bordered by a few gnarled tree trunks rising upward.
    In the center of the page: an old woman, wrapped in a cloak. Her mouth hung open in a leering smile, and her teeth were large and razor sharp, with a prominent set of gleaming white incisors. From the back of her shroudlike garments poked a long, wolfish tail.
    Cassiopeia and Alexander clapped and barked with admiration, but Penelope’s skin went cold. “Is that the Gypsy woman we met yesterday?” she asked, already knowing it must be. The likeness was remarkable, except, of course, for the teeth and tail.
    Beowulf nodded. “The hunt is on,” he said tremulously. At the remark, both of his siblings sank into defensive crouches and began to whimper.
    â€œWhy, Beowulf, whatever do you mean?” Penelope asked, looking with alarm at her three suddenly anxious pupils.
    The children did not answer, at least, not directly. “Ahwooooooo,” they began to cry softly. “Ahwooooo, ahwooooo!”
    The howls quickly gained in volume, whichprompted Penelope to jump up and close the windows. Although she had little experience of city life, she was quite sure that three children baying and barking at full throttle would not be a welcome addition to the neighborhood.
    Returning to her chair, she drew the Incorrigibles close to her and tried her best to sound reassuring. “What a marvelous imagination you have, Beowulf, to have invented a scene so dramatic and frightening! Of course, the Gypsy woman was real enough,” she went on. “But the teeth, and tail, and that ominous moon—these are only make-believe, so there is no need to be