The Wizard's Map by Jane Yolen Page B

something none of them could understand, she put her own hands on the gate and pulled along with them.
    With one last protesting squeak, the gate closed.
    Behind it the dark formless mist swirled but could not get through.
    â€œThat was close,” said Jennifer.
    â€œMuch
too close,” Gran agreed.
    But then they heard someone sobbing. Turning, they saw it was the Pictish girl, her hands held up in front of her as if in some kind of supplication.
    â€œGran, she’s burned her hands,” cried Molly. “How did she get burned?”
    But Jennifer knew without being told, because the burns cutting across the dark girl’s hands were the same shape as the bars on the gate.
    â€œIron,” she said to Molly. “Cold iron burned her, but she didn’t let go.”
    â€œShe helped save us all,” added Gran grimly. “Blessed be.”
    Blessed be, indeed,
Jennifer thought.
    â€œCan I have my talisman now?” asked Molly, holding out her hand.
    Wordlessly Jennifer handed the stone over, her thoughts at that moment not at all charitable toward her little sister.
    But then Molly did something that surprised them all.
    â€œHere,” she said, “this is really yours.” And she handed the talisman to th e Pictish girl, who closed her poor, burned right hand over it and held fast.