Christmas in Camelot - Mary Pope Osborne [2]
“We’re going to celebrate Christmas with Morgan and King Arthur!” said Annie. “And Queen Guinevere!”
“Yeah,” said Jack. “And the Knights of the Round Table, like Sir Lancelot!”
“Let’s go!” said Annie. “Where’s the book?”
She and Jack looked around the tree house for a book about Camelot. The only book they saw was the Pennsylvania book that always brought them home.
“That’s strange,” said Jack. “Morgan didn’t send a book about Camelot with the Royal Invitation. How does she expect us to get there?”
“I don’t know,” said Annie. “Maybe she forgot.”
Jack picked up the invitation. He read it again. He turned it over, hoping to find more information. The back of the scroll was blank. He handed the invitation to Annie.
“She must have forgotten,” he said.
“Darn,” said Annie, staring at the gold writing. “I really wish we could go to Camelot.”
The tree branches rustled.
The wind began to blow.
“What’s happening?” said Jack.
“I don’t know—” said Annie.
“Wait a minute,” said Jack. “You were holding the invitation, and you made a wish.… ”
The wind blew harder.
“That must have made the magic work!” cried Annie.
Jack felt a surge of joy.
“We’re going to Camelot!” he said.
The tree house started to spin.
It spun faster and faster.
Then everything was still.
Absolutely still.
Jack shivered. He could see his breath in the dim light.
Annie was staring out the window. “This is Camelot?” she said.
Jack looked out with her. The tree house had landed in a grove of tall, bare trees. A huge, dark castle loomed against the gray sky. No light shone from its windows. No banners waved from its turrets. Wind whistled through its tall towers, sounding sad and lonely.
“It looks deserted,” said Annie.
“Yeah,” said Jack. “I hope we came to the right place.”
Jack pulled his notebook and pencil out of his pack. He wanted to write a description of the dark castle.
“Hey, I see someone,” said Annie.
Jack looked out the window again.
A woman was crossing the castle drawbridge. She wore a long cloak and carried a lantern. Her white hair blew in the wind.
“Morgan!” said Annie and Jack together. They laughed with relief.
Morgan hurried over the frost-covered ground toward the grove of trees. “Annie? Jack? Is that you?” she called.
“Of course! Who’d you think?” shouted Annie. She started down from the tree house.
Jack threw his notebook into his backpack. He followed Annie down the rope ladder. When they reached the icy ground, they ran to Morgan and both threw their arms around her.
“I was looking out a window in the castle and saw a bright flash in the orchard,” said Morgan. “What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t send the tree house for us?” asked Jack.
“With a Royal Invitation to spend Christmas in Camelot?” asked Annie.
“No!” said Morgan. She sounded alarmed.
“But the invitation was signed with an M,” said Jack.
“I don’t understand … ,” said Morgan. “We are not celebrating Christmas in Camelot this year.”
“You aren’t?” said Jack.
“Why not?” said Annie.
A look of sadness crossed Morgan’s face. “Do you remember when you visited my library and gave King Arthur the hope and courage to challenge his enemy?” she asked.
“Sure,” said Jack.
“Well, Arthur’s enemy was a man named Mordred,” said Morgan. “After you left, Arthur defeated him, but not before Mordred’s Dark Wizard cast a spell over the whole kingdom. The spell robbed Camelot of all its joy.”
“What? All its joy?” whispered Annie.
“Yes,” said Morgan. “For months, Camelot has been without music, without celebration, and without laughter.”
“Oh, no,” said Annie.
“What can we do to help?” said Jack.
Morgan smiled sadly. “This time, I don’t think you can do anything,” she said. “But perhaps it will lift Arthur’s spirits to see you both again. Come, let us go inside the castle.”
Morgan held up her lantern and started toward the drawbridge.
Jack and Annie hurried after her. As they walked through the outer courtyard, the frozen grass cracked under