Christmas in Camelot by Mary Pope Osborne Read Free Book Online Page B

“I had the most incredible dream. I dreamed that we went to Camelot. It was Christmas, and Merlin—”
    â€œThat wasn’t a dream,” said Annie. “It wasreal. 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.
    â€œSeriously?” he whispered.
    â€œSeriously,” she said.
    â€œJa-ack! An-nie!” their mom called in the distance.
    â€œComing!” Annie shouted out the tree house window. She turned to Jack. “Let’s go!”
    â€œI mean—seriously? It
really
happened?” Jack asked Annie again.
    â€œYes! Really!” she said. She held up the Royal Invitation. “See? Proof.”
    â€œOh … yeah,” he whispered.
    â€œThis time, the letter
M
stood for Merlin, not Morgan,” said Annie.
    Jack smiled.
    â€œThanks, Merlin,” he said softly.
    Jack picked up his backpack. Then he andAnnie 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.
    â€œHi, Mom!” said Annie.
    â€œHi, Mom!” said Jack.
    â€œHi, kids. Did you have a good day?” she asked.
    â€œYeah,” said Jack.
    â€œPretty good,” said Annie.
    â€œI’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.
    â€œMerry 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.

M any 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 wasconsidered 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