Blizzard of the Blue Moon: A Merlin Mission

tree.
    “That’s
him,”
Annie said softly.
    “How can it be him?” said Jack. “He’s a picture in a tapestry.”
    “Read Merlin’s poem again,” said Annie.
    Jack unbuckled his briefcase and pulled out the parchment scroll. He read aloud.
    The very last unicorn
Is now hidden well
By those who have put him
Under a spell.
    “The unicorn is hidden in the tapestry,” said Annie. “The people who wove it must be the ones who put him under a spell.”
    “Hmm …,” said Jack. He read on.
    Four centuries, four decades
From that afternoon,
At the end of November,
Before the blue moon …
    “Stop, do the math,” said Annie.
    “Right,” said Jack. He took out his notebook and pencil. “Okay, four centuries is four hundred, and four decades is forty. Add ’em up, you get four hundred forty. Then if you subtract four hundred forty from 1938, you get… 1498.”
    “It works!” said Annie. “The sign says the tapestries were woven at the end of the 1400s! And it’s the end of November, and Mr. Perkins said there’s a blue moon tonight!”
    “Oh, man,” whispered Jack. He kept reading.
    He will wake once more
And be free to go home
If you call out his name:
Divine Flower of Rome.
    Annie looked up at the tapestry.
“Divine Flower!”
she called.
    Nothing happened.
    “Divine Flower of Rome!”
Jack called.
    Jack and Annie watched and waited. Nothing changed in the tapestry. It looked exactly the same.
    “Maybe he’s not the right unicorn after all,” said Jack.
    “Maybe it’s just not the right name,” said Annie. “Read the rest.”
    Jack read more of the poem.
    You must coax him to stand
Once his name is spoken.
His chain will break
And the sipell, too, be broken.
    “He
is
the right unicorn!” said Annie. “See? There’s the chain!” She pointed to the chain in the last tapestry.
    “Yeah, but why didn’t calling his name work?” said Jack. “Why didn’t he wake up?”
    “I don’t know,” said Annie. “What else does the poem say?”
    Jack read on.
    Then a young girl must love him
And show him the way,
Lest he be trapped forever
On public display.
    If he loses this chance
To rise and depart,
All magic will fade
From his horn and his heart.
    “He
is
on public display, and
I’m
the girl, Jack!” said Annie. “I love him a lot! I’ll show him the way!”
    “Okay, calm down. First we need to wake him up,” said Jack.
    Voices came from outside. Jack moved to a window. He looked out into the courtyard. Two people were coming through the cloister, their heads down against the flying snow. One wore a dark cape, and the other a tan raincoat.
    Jack turned back to Annie, a big grin on his face. “You were right! They found us! Teddy and
    Kathleen are here!” he said.
“They’ll
know how to break the spell!”
    “Of course!” said Annie, beaming. “Quick, let’s hide and surprise
them
for a change.”
    “In there!” said Jack. He and Annie hurried into a long room off the tapestry room. They heard the door from the cloister open. They felt a rush of cold air. They heard footsteps.
    Jack and Annie grinned at each other. Jack put his finger to his lips. Then a quick, nervous boy’s voice came from the tapestry room: “Grinda, they are not here!”
    “I see that, Balor, but
look
—”
    “Ahh! Is it
him
, Grinda?”
    Annie grabbed Jack’s arm. “Balor? Grinda?” she whispered.
    “Shh,” whispered Jack.
    “Of course ’tis him!” said the girl. “I told you those Frog Creek brats would lead us to him! Get the rope ready!”
    “Aye,” said the boy.
    Jack and Annie carefully peeked around thecorner. They saw a girl and boy standing with their backs to them, facing the unicorn in the last tapestry. The boy held a thick black rope.
    “Call out his name, Grinda,” said the boy.
    The girl took a step toward the tapestry. She raised her arms in front of the unicorn.
“Dianthus!”
she called.
    Wind whistled through the open doorway. The flowers in the tapestry swayed as if the windwere blowing them. The scent of roses wafted through the room. The unicorn moved his head.

    “Ohh!” whispered Annie.
    “Get ready, Balor, to take him back to the Master,” said the girl.
    Annie clutched Jack’s arm. “Who’s the Master?” she whispered.
    “I don’t know,” whispered Jack. “But I don’t think he’s a good guy.”
    The girl turned back to the tapestry and spoke softly to the unicorn. “Come, come, my lovely Dianthus, stand up now. Come out of that old