Christmas in Camelot

by Mary Pope Osborne

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  the Magic Tree House series:

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  One day I was really bored and I didn’t want to read … I looked in your book. I read a sentence, and it was interesting. So I read some more, until the book was done. It was so good I read more and more. Then I had read all of your books, and now I hope you write lots more.—Danai K.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2001 by Mary Pope Osborne

  Illustrations copyright © 2001 by Sal Murdocca

  Christmas ornament illustration copyright © 2009 by Sal Murdocca

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York. Originally published in hardcover in the United States by Random House Children’s Books in 2001.

  Random House and the colophon are registered trademarks and A Stepping Stone Book and the colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc. Magic Tree House is a registered trademark of Mary Pope Osborne; used under license.

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  The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition of this work as follows:

  Osborne, Mary Pope

  Christmas in Camelot / by Mary Pope Osborne; illustrated by Sal Murdocca.

  p. cm.—(Magic tree house)

  “A Merlin mission.”

  “A Stepping Stone book.”

  Summary: On Christmas Eve, Jack and Annie’s tree house transports them to King Arthur’s castle at Camelot, where they undertake a quest to the Otherworld.

  eISBN: 978-0-375-89452-7

  [1. Time travel—Fiction. 2. Magic—Fiction. 3. Arthur, King—Fiction.

  4. Christmas—Fiction. 5. Tree houses—Fiction. 6. Brothers and sisters—Fiction.]

  I. Murdocca, Sal, ill. II. Title.

  PZ7.O81167 Ch 2001 [Fic]—dc21 2001019693

  Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

  v3.0

  For Mallory Loehr,

  the real Keeper of the Cauldron

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  1. A Royal Invitation

  2. This Is Camelot?

  3. The Knights of the Round Table

  4. Who Will Go?

  5. Rhymes of the Christmas Knight

  6. A White Comet

  7. A Good Trick

  8. The Otherworld

  9. The Lost Knights

  10. The Knights’ Gifts

  11. The Crystal Cave

  12. Fire with Fire

  13. Your Horses Are Waiting

  14. Return

  15. Christmas Magic

  16. Welcome Home

  A Note from the Author

  Special Preview of Magic Tree House #30: Haunted Castle on Hallows Eve

  O brother, had you known our Camelot,

  Built by old kings, age after age, so old

  The King himself had fears that it would fall,

  So strange, and rich, and dim …

  Alfred Lord Tennyson

  Idylls of the King

  Once upon a time, in Frog Creek, Pennsylvania, a mysterious tree house appeared in the woods. A boy named Jack and his sister, Annie, climbed into the tree house. They found that it was filled with books.

  Jack and Annie soon discovered that the tree house was magic. It could take them to the places they read about in the books. All they had to do was point to a picture and wish to go there. They discovered that during their adventures, no time at all passed in Frog Creek.

  Jack and Annie eventually learned that the tree house belonged to Morgan le Fay, an enchantress from Camelot, the long-ago kingdom of King Arthur. On one of their journeys, Jack and Annie visited Morgan’s library in Camelot and brought hope and courage to King Arthur.

  Now it is winter. Jack and Annie have not seen Morgan or the magic tree house for many months.…

  Sunlight had faded from the late-afternoon sky. Puffy snow clouds were moving in.

  “Let’s hurry. I’m cold,” said Jack.

  He and Annie were walking home from school. Their Christmas vacation was just beginning.

  Cooo—cooo.

  “Wait,” said Annie. “Look.”

  She pointed to a white bird sitting on a bare tree branch at the edge of the woods. The bird was staring straight at them.

  “It’s a dove,” said Jack.

  “It’s a messenger,” said Annie, “from Morgan.”

  “No,” Jack said, afraid to get his hopes up. They hadn’t seen Morgan le Fay in a long time. He really missed her.

  “Yes,” said Annie. “She has a mission for us. I can feel it.”

  In the
hush of the cold twilight, the dove spread its wings and flew into the Frog Creek woods.

  “Come on!” said Annie. “The tree house is back!”

  “You’re just hoping!” said Jack.

  “I’m knowing!” said Annie. She ran into the woods, following the white dove.

  “Oh, brother,” said Jack. But he took off after Annie.

  Even in the growing darkness, they easily found their way. They zigzagged between the bare trees and ran over the frozen ground until they came to the tallest oak in the woods.

  “See?” said Annie, pointing to the top of the tree.

  “Yeah,” whispered Jack.

  There it was: the magic tree house.

  “Morgan!” shouted Annie.

  Jack held his breath, waiting to see the enchantress at the tree house window. But Morgan did not appear.

  Annie grabbed the rope ladder and started up. Jack followed.

  When they climbed inside the tree house, Jack saw something lying on the floor. It was a scroll, rolled up and tied with a red velvet ribbon.

  Jack picked up the scroll and unrolled it. The thick, yellowed paper shimmered with large gold writing.

  “Wow, Morgan sent us a really fancy note,” said Annie.

  “It’s an invitation,” said Jack. “Listen.”

  “Christmas in Camelot!” said Annie. “I don’t believe it!”

  “Cool,” whispered Jack. He pictured a beautiful, glowing castle lit with candles and filled with knights and ladies feasting and singing.

  “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 their sneakers.

  They followed Morgan over the bridge and through a tall gate. There were no signs of life in the castle’s inner courtyard.

  “Where is everyone?” Annie whispered to Jack.

  “I don’t know,” he whispered back. Jack really wished they had a book about Camelot. It might help them understand what was going on.

  Morgan led them to a huge archway with two wooden doors. She stopped and looked at them.

  “I am afraid no book would help you tonight, Jack,” she said.

  Jack was startled that Morgan had read his thoughts.

  “Why not?” asked Annie.

  “On all your other journeys, you visited real places and times in history,” said Morgan. “Camelot is different.”

  “How?” said Jack.

  “The story of Camelot is a legend,” said Morgan. “A legend is a story that begins in truth. But then imagination takes over. Different people in different times tell the story. They use their imaginations to add new parts. That is how a legend is kept alive.”

  “Tonight we’ll add our part,” said Annie.

  “Yes,” said Morgan. “And please, I beg you”—in the lantern light, she looked very serious—“do not let the story of Camelot end forever. Keep our kingdom alive.”

  “Of course we will!” said Annie.

  “Good,” said Morgan. “Come, then. Let us go into the great hall and see the king.”

  Morgan lifted an iron latch and pushed open the heavy doors. Jack and Annie followed her into the dark castle.

  A pair of torches dimly lit the drafty entrance hall of the castle. Shadows danced on the worn tapestries.

  “Wait here,” said Morgan. “I will tell the king of your arrival.” She headed through the huge stone archway that led to the great hall.

  “Let’s peek in,” Annie said to Jack.

  Jack pushed his glasses int
o place. He and Annie walked quietly over to the big arch and peered in.

  The ceiling of the great hall towered high above a stone floor. At the far end of the room, King Arthur and his knights were sitting around a huge, round table. They all wore brown tunics. They had shaggy hair and beards. Their names were carved in gold letters on the backs of their chairs.

  “The Knights of the Round Table!” whispered Jack.

  Morgan was talking to King Arthur. Beside the king sat a woman in a plain gray robe. She had pale skin and brown, curly hair.

  “Queen Guinevere,” whispered Annie.

  Morgan left the king, and Jack and Annie moved quickly back into the shadows. A moment later, Morgan appeared.

  “I told the king that two special friends of his have just arrived,” she said. “Come with me.”

  As they walked with Morgan through the great hall, Jack shivered. The huge room was drafty and damp. There was no fire in the fireplace. The stone floor was so cold that Jack could feel the chill through his sneakers.

  They stopped near the Round Table. King Arthur stared at them with his piercing gray eyes.

  “Greetings from Frog Creek,” Annie said to the king and queen. Annie bowed, and Jack bowed, too.

  The queen smiled. But King Arthur did not.

  “Your Majesty, you remember Jack and Annie?” said Morgan. “You met them last summer in my library?”

  “Indeed, I shall never forget them,” King Arthur said softly. “Greetings, Annie. Greetings, Jack. How do you come to be in Camelot on this bleak night?”

  “We came in the magic tree house,” said Annie.

  A shadow crossed the king’s face. He looked at Morgan.

  “No, Your Majesty. I did not use my magic to bring them here,” she said. “Perhaps a bit of magic still lingers in the tree house, and it traveled on its own.”

  What’s going on? Jack wondered. Why does King Arthur seem unhappy about the magic tree house?