Season of the Sandstorms - Mary Pope Osborne [13]
“But what—” said Jack.
“Go quickly,” whispered the girl.
The boy servant pulled open the heavy door. The girl servant pushed them into the room.
“Wait,” said Jack.
But the boy servant closed the door behind them, leaving Jack and Annie alone.
“Jack, look! We’re here!” said Annie. “The Room of the Tree!”
Jack turned around. A giant tree stood in the center of the room. It had silver leaves that fluttered as if blown by the wind. Mechanical golden birds sang “Tweet-tweet!” from the silver branches.
Beneath the strange tree was an empty black chair. Jewels sparkled in its shiny wood.
“We’re in the right place,” said Annie. She quoted from Merlin’s letter:
Beneath birds who sing
in the Room of the Tree,
greet a friend you once knew
and a new friend to be.
“Another mystery solved,” Annie said.
“Not really,” said Jack. “Where are the two friends?”
“I don’t know, but we better bow in front of the chair like that servant girl told us to,” said Annie.
Jack and Annie knelt in front of the shiny black chair. They bowed their heads to the floor. Jack gripped his bag with the treasure inside.
“Remember what else she said,” Annie reminded Jack. “Don’t look up and don’t speak until we’re spoken to.”
“But there’s no one here,” said Jack. He felt foolish, bowing in front of a chair and listening to the chirping of mechanical birds. Why are we doing this? he wondered.
The door opened with a low creaking sound. Jack squeezed his eyes shut. He heard footsteps moving past them.
“How did you get into the throne room?” a deep, gruff voice asked.
“A servant brought us here,” said Annie.
“And why have you come?” asked the voice.
“We have a priceless treasure to give to the caliph of Baghdad,” said Jack, keeping his head down. “It’s a book of wisdom.”
Jack fumbled in his bag and pulled out the book. He kept his eyes tightly shut as he held the book up toward the voice.
There was a long silence.
“We hope it will help the caliph spread wisdom to the world,” said Annie.
“How did you come to be in possession of this book?” the man asked.
“We were helping a friend,” said Annie. “And we got separated in a sandstorm.”
“Ah, then I suppose you brought this book to Baghdad to gain a reward,” said the man.
“No! No, we didn’t,” said Jack. “It was our mission to give it to the caliph.”
“Surely you must be seeking some payment in exchange for this treasure,” said the man. “Would you not like precious perfumes gathered from the sweetest flowers on earth?”
“No thank you,” said Annie.
“Rubies as large as hens’ eggs?” said the man.
“No thanks,” said Jack.
“You would not accept the book’s weight in gold?” said the man.
“We don’t need a reward, really,” said Jack.
“Since he likes books so much, why don’t you just tell the caliph to use his gold and rubies to buy more of them?” said Annie.
Again, there was silence. Then the man cleared his throat. When he spoke, his voice was gentle and familiar-sounding. “Look up at me, Jack and Annie,” he said.
Jack opened his eyes. He slowly lifted his head. First he saw gleaming gold slippers … then a long white robe with gold trim … then a familiar face.
Jack gasped. He couldn’t believe his eyes. The man wasn’t a scary person at all. The man was Mamoon!
“Mamoon?” said Annie.
“Yes,” said Mamoon. “I am very glad to see that you have safely arrived in Baghdad.”
“We’re glad you’re safe, too!” said Annie. “We were worried about you.”
“I looked everywhere for you after the sandstorm,” said Mamoon. “Finally I gave up my search and returned sadly to Baghdad. I assume you found your family?”
“Uh, sure,” said Annie, “we found them.”
“And we found your book,” said Jack. “When we couldn’t find you, we decided that we should give the book to the caliph.”
Mamoon smiled. “You still do not understand, do you?” he said.
“Understand what?” said Annie.
“I am Caliph Abdullah al-Mamoon.”
“You’re the caliph?” said Annie.
“But—how—what?” stammered Jack.
“For many years, I have wanted a book of Aristotle’s wisdom,” explained the caliph. “I heard that