Authors: Julie Leung
C
alib darted up the wooden beams that led to the supporting rafters of the chapel. He had taken this path countless times before. And yet, as he entered the tapestry hall, Calib felt as if he were seeing everything with new eyes.
The large battle scenes no longer looked majestic. Having seen what war was truly like, he knew the tapestry did little to truly capture the chaos, no matter how finely stitched. Calib eyed the blank space on the wall where Commander Yvers's portrait would hang one day. There
was still much work to be done to strengthen and repair the castle.
And worries still weighed on Calib's mind. The Manderlean and his army were still out there, defeated but not vanquished. And now they had a new adviser who knew all of Camelot's secrets: the traitor, Percival Vole.
The mouse once again made his way to the spot where he felt most at home in all of Camelot. On the surface nothing about his father and mother's tapestry had changed. Sir Trenton still stood strong with his sword held high. Lady Clara still clasped her needle and thread primly. However, their eyes seemed to gaze upon Calib with a newfound sense of pride.
In many ways, Calib knew it wasn't the tapestry that had changed, but him. He was a different mouse now. The tapestry only reflected what he saw inside of himself.
Calib studied the embroidered goblet that formed the Christopher crest on his new set of robes. The seamstresses had used gold thread to stitch the rays of sunlight shooting forth from the goblet.
He looked around to make sure he was alone in the hall. The mouse picked up the bottom corner of the tapestry and gave it a long sniff. The scent of lavender filled Calib's nose. It reminded him that spring would arrive before long.
“I thought I might find you up here,” said a merry voice behind him.
Calib turned to see Cecily walking toward him. She looked beautiful in a dress colored plum and opal white. For a moment, Calib was speechless.
“Everyone's waiting for you in the Goldenwood Hall,” Cecily continued. “Are you ready?”
“I think I am.” Calib looked one last time at the blank space on the wall. “It's just . . . I wish my grandfather were here to see everything turn out all right. See me as I am now.”
“Commander Yvers always knew how to find the best in everybody, even if they didn't believe it themselves. I don't think he ever doubted that you would live up to his name,” Cecily replied. “He was a great mouse, and I think you are too.”
Cecily leaned over as if to tell him a secret, but she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek instead. Calib flushed hot from ears to tail tip.
The bells began to toll for eventide.
“Come on,” Cecily said, grabbing his paw. “You can't be late to your own party!”
The Goldenwood Hall was a magnificent scene. Large picnic tables had been wheeled in to accommodate the new guests. Valentina and the rest of the crows were stringing colored paper streamers over the ceiling beams as Sir Alric supervised their placement.
All around him, Camelot and Darkling animals were working and playing together. First-year pages were
learning how to box from Lylas Whitestripe. Valentina and General Gaius were exchanging stories of their travels. Even Lucinda the cat was there, purring throatily next to Leftie. The Darkling leader seemed a little bemused by her attentions.
Madame von Mandrake and her kitchen staff had prepared a feast unparalleled in the history of the Goldenwood Hall. Piping hot ladles of smashed pea soup were dished into hollowed-out acorns. Baked fish pies made from fresh sardines and minced mushroom stalks were served with savory bread pudding made from crusts.
The hares nibbled on a crunchy salad of carrot tops, watercress bits, and radish heads. Desserts ranged from crushed blueberry tarts glazed with honey to lemon peel cakes. Wheels of fine cheeses and flagons of elderberry wine passed freely from creature to creature. Gourds and thimbles were filled to the brim. Barnaby looked like he might topple from overeating. Even Warren was striking up a conversation with Two-Bits the black squirrel, who could only sip broth.
Calib stopped for a moment, raising his glass to Warren, who returned the gesture with a smile that seemed uncharacteristically free of mockery.
“Oy, young Christopher!” Two-Bits the black squirrel clapped Calib on the back. “I never did thank ye properly for clearing my name.” He took a sip of broth. “Not
that I care what a bunch o' pompous Camelot ninnies think, mind ye. It's just, well”âhe scratched his head uncertainlyâ“maybe ye're not all a bad sort.”
The Round Table from the council room had also been moved to the stage so that the Darkling and Camelot leaders could sit side by side. Every seat in the hall was filled. Only the Goldenwood throne stood empty, Commander Kensington opting to sit in her old chair instead.
On cue, the music quieted, and Leftie and Kensington stepped forward to address the crowds.
“We raise our glasses this evening not as only victors of our battles, but as mourners for our fallen,” Commander Kensington began, the candlelight illuminating her old and new battle scars. “We gather here to honor the many we lost on the battlefield. May they never be forgotten for their sacrifices.”
Lylas Whitestripe began to read through a list of all who had died in battle, including General Flit, Sir Owen Onewhisker, and Berwin the Brave, friend to all.
For each name, a white banner with a golden paw print was unrolled from the ceiling. Soon, the space above the arena was filled with gently swaying swaths of white and gold. The room was hushed as each animal placed a paw over their hearts or saluted with their wings.
Leftie stepped forward to speak. The lynx had cleaned
up nicely. His spotted fur was untangled and brushed. His eye patch had been recently repaired with fresh leather, and his ear wounds were dressed.
“We also raise our glass in celebration this evening, for the peace treaty between Camelot and the Darklings has been restored and will remain in effect as long as there are creatures who will fight for what is right,” Leftie said. “Our losses would have been much greater if not for the actions of one mouse who asked questions and uncovered the truth.”
“To new friends and allies! And to Calib Christopher!” Kensington and Leftie said together. They bowed deeply to Calib, and soon the entire arena was cheering.
“To Calib Christopher!” chorused a multitude of voices.
Overwhelmed, Calib could only whisper a wholehearted “thank you.”
A Darkling hedgehog-bard and Ginny came onstage. The hedgehog cleared his throat and began strumming a rousing tune on his lute. He was joined by Ginny's singing. Their voices intertwined in a soaring harmony as a troupe of hedgehogs contributed drums and bagpipes:
Whether ye make ye home in stone and mortar
Whether ye prefer to roam in woods and water
Warriors are born in all sizes and shapes
No matter the colors on their flags or their capes
Together in paw and tail, lest divided we fall and fail
As long we stand together, the good in all prevails
The applause in the Goldenwood Hall was deafening, with twice the number of paws clapping together.
Calib laid a trembling paw on his heart, which hammered to the beat of the jubilant cheering. He savored all the happy faces that beamed back at him.
To those who knew how to listen, the heart had many important things to tell. And at that moment, Calib's heart told him that he was a Christopher mouse: brave, strong, and wise.
Firstborn books are intimidating creatures. In taming one for myself, I relied on the fiercest warriors in the land. I owe them the largest ales and my deepest gratitude.
To my editors Kamilla Benko, Andrew Harwell, and Alexandra Cooperâmy sword, my bow, and my ax. Without you, a Balrog would have eaten me.
To the beacons of light at Paper Lantern Lit: Lexa Hillyer, Lauren Oliver, Tara Sonin, Alexa Wejko, and especially, Rhoda Belleza, who shone a ray on me first. To Stephen Barbara for finding the perfect home for Calib and company.
To the mighty HarperCollins team: Rosemary Brosnan and Olivia Swomley in editorial. Kim VandeWater and Lauren Kostenberger in marketing. Olivia Russo in publicity. Andrea Pappenheimer and her team in sales. Erin Fitzsimmons and Katie Klimowicz in design. And a special thank-you to Lindsey Carr, whose illustrations brought the story to life more beautifully than I could have imagined.
To my agent Wendi Gu, whose emails are magical manna.
To Danielle Rollins, who set me off on this path of many wonders.
I am indebted to the works of Brian Jacques and J. R. R. Tolkien. Bless the public libraries of Jonesboro, Douglasville, and Villa Rica, Georgia, for stocking them.
To my parents, everything I am was made possible by your sacrifices and your love.
To Kyle, keeper of my heart, all this happened because you believed it could.
Photo by Kyle Campbell
JULIE LEUNG
was raised in the sleepy suburbs of Atlanta, Georgia, though it may be more accurate to say she grew up in Oz and came of age in Middle-earth. She works in book publishing as a digital marketer. In her free time she enjoys furtively sniffing books at used bookstores and winning at obscure board games. Her favorite mode of transportation is the library. You can visit her online at
www.jleungbooks.com
.
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Cover art © 2016 by LINDSEY CARR
Title lettering by DAVID COULSON
Cover design by KATIE KLIMOWICZ
MICE OF THE ROUND TABLE #1: A TAIL OF CAMELOT
. Text copyright © 2016 by Paper Lantern Lit. Illustrations copyright © 2016 by Lindsey Carr. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.harpercollinschildrens.com
Library of Congress Control Number: 2016938973
ISBN 978-0-06-240399-5
EPub Edition © September 2016 ISBN 9780062404015
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FIRST EDITION
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