The Wizard's Map Read Free Page A

have my raincoat unpacked yet,” Jennifer said.
    â€œWe’ve got plenty of protection to go around,” said Gran. “You just need to ask.” And, with her hand expertly cupping Jennifer’s elbow, Gran led her quickly back to the house.

Four
Attic Games
    The next day it rained again—a hard, steady rain with gale-force winds. The television news predicted a full day of the same.
    â€œIt will be nice enough tomorrow,” promised Gran. “Scotland is like that. After every shower, a rainbow.”
    â€œAnd after every rainbow, a shower,” muttered Peter.
    â€œYou can play in the attic,” added Da. “Plenty of stuff up there to do.”
    Molly was immediately excited, but Jennifer and Peter exchanged glances.
    â€œOld clothes,” said Gran. “For dress-up.”
    â€œWe,” Peter said slowly, “are too old for dress-up.”
    Jennifer tried to soften what he’d just said so he didn’t sound like a complete toad. “Peter’s never been interested in that sort of thing.”
    â€œAnd old games,” added Da. “Maps. Books. Photographs.”
    Peter was unmoved.
    â€œAnd a hidden room,” Da finished.
    â€œDa...” Mom sounded a warning note.
    It was too late. Peter had looked up at the last and was staring avidly at Da.
    â€œA hidden room!” There was a great deal of awe in his voice.
    â€œWhich we know about but have never found,” added Gran.
    â€œBut you’ve lived here forever,” Jennifer said.
    â€œWe’ve lived here for a long time,” agreed Gran. “And my parents before that. But the house has been here even longer.”
    â€œHow long?” asked Molly.
    â€œThis
house, since the fifteenth century.”
    â€œIs that long?” Molly asked.
    â€œHundreds and hundreds of years,” Jennifer said, wondering exactly what Gran had meant by
“this
house.”
    â€œFive hundred years,” said Peter precisely.
    â€œGosh!” said Molly. “That’s older than Granfa Dyer.”
    They all laughed, and whatever tension had been brought into the room by the grey rain disappeared.
    â€œWho wants to see that attic now?” asked Gran.
    All three of them shot their hands into the air, and the day was decided.
    ***
    The attic was on the third floor, though Gran and Da called it the second floor, the first floor being known as the ground floor.
    â€œI thought,” Peter whispered to Jennifer, “that we all spoke the same language. But we don’t.”
    â€œIt’s all English,” explained Jennifer. “Just not
American
English.”
    â€œHere we are.” Gran opened a hallway door, revealing a set of stone steps that curved up into the darkness.
    â€œAre you coming?” Molly asked Gran.
    â€œThere’s no need,” said Gran. “At least not now.” She hesitated. “Take the torch.” Then she handed Peter a flashlight.
    â€œSee,” Peter said to Jennifer. “Not what I mean by ‘torch.’”
    â€œYou’ll find a switch near the top of the stairs. On the left. And, Jennifer—you take this dust cloth.” She handed a Douglas plaid tea towel to Jennifer and, so saying, left them to their own devices. They could hear her footsteps clattering down to the floor below, and then farther down, till they could hear nothing at all.
    Peter went first with the torch, and when he got to the top of the stairs called down. “I found it. Only it’s on the right, not the left. Hold on.” A second later an overhead light flooded down, illuminating the well-worn steps.
    Holding Molly’s hand, Jennifer went up the stairs. At the top, she stopped and looked around. Even with the light, the attic was filled with shadows. Or maybe because of it. Jennifer was not sure.
    â€œLook at all the dust,” said Molly. She wrote her name in big clumsy letters on the top of a trunk. Her name was the