Christmas in Camelot Page 5
Jack looked around the great hall. All the candles and torches were lit now. A fire blazed in the hearth. The musicians were playing. Everyone was singing. The room glowed with warm firelight and rosy faces.
At last, Christmas in Camelot was just as Jack had imagined it would be. The spell of the Dark Wizard had been broken. The great hall was filled with beauty and love and joy and light.
“Wake up, Jack,” said Annie.
Jack opened his eyes.
He was lying in the dark on the wooden floor of the tree house. Through the window, he saw the cloudy sky above the Frog Creek woods.
“Time to go home,” said Annie.
“Oh, I must have fallen asleep,” said Jack. “I had the most incredible dream. I dreamed that we went to Camelot. It was Christmas, and Merlin—”
“That wasn’t a dream,” said Annie. “It was real. You fell asleep at the Round Table during the party. King Arthur carried you to the tree house. And I made the wish for us to come home.”
Jack sat up.
“Seriously?” he whispered.
“Seriously,” she said.
“Ja-ack! An-nie!” their mom called in the distance.
“Coming!” Annie shouted out the tree house window. She turned to Jack. “Let’s go!”
“I mean—seriously? It really happened?” Jack asked Annie again.
“Yes! Really!” she said. She held up the Royal Invitation. “See? Proof.”
“Oh … yeah,” he whispered.
“This time, the letter M stood for Merlin, not Morgan,” said Annie.
Jack smiled.
“Thanks, Merlin,” he said softly.
Jack picked up his backpack. Then he and Annie started down the rope ladder and headed home. As they walked through the deep December twilight, snowflakes started to fall.
By the time they left the woods and headed down their street, snow was swirling everywhere. Ahead they could see their house glowing with lamplight. Their mom was waiting on their front porch.
“Hi, Mom!” said Annie.
“Hi, Mom!” said Jack.
“Hi, kids. Did you have a good day?” she asked.
“Yeah,” said Jack.
“Pretty good,” said Annie.
“I’m glad,” said their mom. “Welcome home.” She held the door open, and Jack and Annie slipped inside.
Their house felt extra warm and cozy. Good smells came from the kitchen. Jack and Annie took off their snow-covered jackets, then headed up the stairs.
In the hallway, Annie turned to Jack. “Merry Christmas,” she said simply.
“Merry Christmas,” he said.
Annie slipped into her room, and Jack into his.
Jack closed his door and sat on his bed. He took his notebook out of his pack and opened it. His spirits sank. Except for the three rhymes, he’d taken no notes on their journey—not one.
Exhausted, Jack lay back on his bed. He squeezed his eyes shut. He tried to remember the details of their adventures in Camelot and the Otherworld.
He could feel the terrible chill in the great hall when Morgan was frozen. He could hear the joyful music as the winged dancers danced around in their circle. He could taste the sweet, bitter, spicy taste of the Water of Memory and Imagination.
Jack sat up. All at once, he felt very awake. He turned to a clean page in his notebook. He grabbed his pencil and wrote:
Using his memory and his imagination, Jack kept writing, doing his part to keep the legend of King Arthur, the Knights of the Round Table, Merlin, and Morgan le Fay alive.
As the snow swirled outside his window, Jack wrote and wrote and wrote. He didn’t stop writing until he had written down the whole story—his story of their Christmas in Camelot.
Many people believe that the legend of King Arthur was inspired by an actual military leader who led Britain over 1,500 years ago.
Imaginary stories about the adventures of King Arthur were first told in Wales and Ireland. These stories are called Celtic myths. Sadly, most Celtic myths are lost to us forever because only a few were written down. Many details in my story about King Arthur’s realm are drawn from details in the few Celtic stories that have survived through the ages.
The cloak that makes one invisible was considered to be one of “the Thirteen Treasures of Britain.” Merlin the magician was said to keep the treasures in a glass tower. None of the magic of the treasures would work for a person who was unworthy to use them.
The white stag was inspired by a supernatural Celtic beast that often led humans to a hidden Otherworld.
The idea for the Cauldron of Memory and Imagination came from a 6th-century poem. The poem tells a story about King Arthur and his knights traveling to a hidden world and searching for a magical cauldron of poetry and inspiration. Many knights never returned from that dangerous quest.
In the 12th century, Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine encouraged poets and troubadours to make up more stories about King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table to inspire her people. In the following years, storytellers all over Europe told heroic tales of King Arthur, Merlin, Sir Lancelot, Queen Guinevere, and Morgan le Fay. French poets were the first to call the imaginary kingdom Camelot.
The storytellers of the Middle Ages blended elements of Christianity with the old Celtic myths. In their stories, miracles and marvels often took place around Christian holidays. Christmas in Camelot was a time of joyous celebration.
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Magic Tree House #30
(A Merlin Mission)
Haunted Castle on Hallows Eve
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Excerpt copyright © 2003 by Mary Pope Osborne.
Published by Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
“Maybe I should be a vampire instead of a princess,” said Annie.
She and Jack were sitting on their front porch. A cool breeze rustled the trees. Autumn leaves twirled to the ground.
“But you already have your princess costume,” said Jack. “Besides, you were a vampire last Halloween.”
“I know, but I want to wear my big teeth again,” said Annie.
“So wear your big teeth and be a vampire-princess,” said Jack. He stood up. “I’m going to go put on my ghoul makeup now.”
KRAW!
“Oh, man!” said Jack.
A giant black bird swooped down to the ground. The bird strutted through the fallen leaves. Its feathers glistened in the golden afternoon light.
“Wow, is that a crow?” asked Annie.
“It’s too big for a crow,” said Jack. “I think it might be a raven.”
“A raven?” said Annie. “Cool.”
The raven lifted its sleek head and stared at them with bright eyes. Jack held his breath.
The bird hopped forward. It flapped its great black wings and lifted into the air. Then he glided into the autumn sky and headed toward the Frog Creek woods.
Annie jumped up. “It’s a sign! Morgan’s back!” she said.
“I think you’re right!” said Jack. “Let’s go!”
Jack and Annie hurried across their front yard, crunching through the leaves. They ran up their street and into the Frog Creek woods.
When they came to the tallest oak, they saw the rope ladder swaying in the wind. The magic tree house was waiting for them.
“Just as we thought,” Annie said, smiling.
Jack followed her up the ladder. When they climbed inside the tree house, they saw no sign of Morgan le Fay, the enchantress from the kingdom of Camelot.
“That’s weird,” said Jack, looking around.
The wind blew hard again, shaking the tree branches. A huge yellow leaf fluttered through the open window and came to rest at Jack’s feet.
“Oh, man,” he said. “Look at this.”
“What?” said Annie.
Jack picked up the leaf. There was writing on it. The letters were curvy and old-fashioned.
“Wow,” whispered
Annie. “What does it say?”
Jack held the leaf up to the tree house window. In the fading light, he read aloud:
“M!” said Annie. “Morgan never signs her messages with M. … ”
“Right … ,” said Jack. “But … ”
“Merlin does!” they said together.
“Like when he sent us the invitation to spend Christmas in Camelot,” said Annie. She pointed to the Royal Invitation that still lay in the corner of the tree house.
“Now he’s inviting us on Halloween!” said Jack. “Halloween was called ‘All Hallows Eve’ a long time ago.”
“I know,” said Annie. “We have to go!”
“Of course,” said Jack. There was no way they could turn down an invitation from the master magician of all time. “But how do we get there?”
“I’ll bet our invitation will take us,” said Annie, “like when we went to King Arthur’s castle on Christmas Eve.”
“Good idea,” said Jack. He pointed to the fancy writing on the leaf. “I wish we could go—uh—”
“To where this leaf invitation came from!” said Annie.
“Right!” said Jack.
The wind began to blow.
The tree house started to spin.
It spun faster and faster.
Then everything was still.
Absolutely still.
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#1: DINOSAURS BEFORE DARK
#2: THE KNIGHT AT DAWN
#3: MUMMIES IN THE MORNING
#4: PIRATES PAST NOON
#5: NIGHT OF THE NINJAS
#6: AFTERNOON ON THE AMAZON
#7: SUNSET OF THE SABERTOOTH
#8: MIDNIGHT ON THE MOON
#9: DOLPHINS AT DAYBREAK
#10: GHOST TOWN AT SUNDOWN
#11: LIONS AT LUNCHTIME
#12: POLAR BEARS PAST BEDTIME
#13: VACATION UNDER THE VOLCANO
#14: DAY OF THE DRAGON KING
#15: VIKING SHIPS AT SUNRISE
#16: HOUR OF THE OLYMPICS
#17: TONIGHT ON THE TITANIC
#18: BUFFALO BEFORE BREAKFAST
#19: TIGERS AT TWILIGHT
#20: DINGOES AT DINNERTIME
#21: CIVIL WAR ON SUNDAY
#22: REVOLUTIONARY WAR ON WEDNESDAY
#23: TWISTER ON TUESDAY
#24: EARTHQUAKE IN THE EARLY MORNING
#25: STAGE FRIGHT ON A SUMMER NIGHT
#26: GOOD MORNING, GORILLAS
#27: THANKSGIVING ON THURSDAY
#28: HIGH TIDE IN HAWAII
Merlin Missions
#29: CHRISTMAS IN CAMELOT
#30: HAUNTED CASTLE ON HALLOWS EVE
#31: SUMMER OF THE SEA SERPENT
#32: WINTER OF THE ICE WIZARD
#33: CARNIVAL AT CANDLELIGHT
#34: SEASON OF THE SANDSTORMS
#35: NIGHT OF THE NEW MAGICIANS
#36: BLIZZARD OF THE BLUE MOON
#37: DRAGON OF THE RED DAWN
#38: MONDAY WITH A MAD GENIUS
#39: DARK DAY IN THE DEEP SEA
#40: EVE OF THE EMPEROR PENGUIN
#41: MOONLIGHT ON THE MAGIC FLUTE
#42: A GOOD NIGHT FOR GHOSTS
#43: LEPRECHAUN IN LATE WINTER
#44: A GHOST TALE FOR CHRISTMAS TIME
Magic Tree House® Research Guides
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MUMMIES AND PYRAMIDS
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TITANIC
TWISTERS AND OTHER TERRIBLE STORMS
DOLPHINS AND SHARKS
ANCIENT GREECE AND THE OLYMPICS
AMERICAN REVOLUTION
SABERTOOTHS AND THE ICE AGE
PILGRIMS
ANCIENT ROME AND POMPEII
TSUNAMIS AND OTHER NATURAL DISASTERS
POLAR BEARS AND THE ARCTIC
SEA MONSTERS
PENGUINS AND ANTARCTICA
LEONARDO DA VINCI
GHOSTS
LEPRECHAUNS AND IRISH FOLKLORE
RAGS AND RICHES: KIDS IN THE TIME OF CHARLES DICKENS
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