“We have to get them out of there,” said Clover.
“But where will they go?” asked Oliver.
“In the stables, I guess.” Clover opened the cage and lifted Tansy out. She was heavier than Dipity. “Don’t just stand there. Help me.”
Oliver put his wand away and awkwardly lifted Buttercup out. Right away, she bared her teeth and nipped his hand.
“Ah!” he yelled, stumbling back and knocking into Clover.
“Watch out!” she scolded. Luckily, she was holding Tansy tight and didn’t drop the fairy horse.
Oliver, on the other hand, was clearly not holding Buttercup properly. The dappled horse jumped out of Oliver’s arms and landed gracefully on the floor. Seeming only too happy to be free, she began to prance around the room, whinnying loudly.
“What should I do?” cried Oliver.
“Catch her!” said Clover.
So Oliver chased Buttercup, who began to gallop, tossing her mane like a flag. Dipity watched, looking amused.
It WAS pretty funny, but Tansy was getting heavy. “Come on!” said Clover.
Oliver huffed to a stop. “Really, these animals are not well trained!”
“It’s not the animals. It’s you,” she said.
Oliver’s face fell, and Clover almost felt bad. Then Buttercup pranced by, and Oliver got his arms around her at last. “Aha!” he said smugly, lifting her back up.
“Good,” said Clover. “Come on.”
The not-so-fairy horses were actually A LOT heavier than Dipity. By the time Clover got Tansy into a stall in the stables, her arms ached. Oliver put Buttercup in the same stall. The two horses happily explored, sniffing the hay and buckets and swishing their tails.
The unicorns were not as pleased. They looked bewildered, and it was no wonder. Their horns were half the size they used to be. And it wasn’t just their horns that were changing. They were changing colors too. Instead of milky white, they were an assortment of hues and patterns, cream and spotted, chestnut and patched, just like the horses at Emma’s Pony Camp. “Oliver, those pills didn’t help at all,” said Clover.
“It is VERY perplexing,” he agreed.
“It’s more than that,” said Clover. “It’s time for the vet. You move Acorn and Butternut. I’m going to call Dr. Nurtch.”
The phone rang a few times and Clover fiddled with the charm, worried that the vet might be out. Dipity hopped up on the desk.
“Do you know what’s going on?” Clover asked her kitten. Dipity didn’t respond as he usually would, with a twitch of his tail. He just mewed like an ordinary cat and curled up on the desk. Clover rubbed behind his ears as the phone went to the answering machine: “You’ve reached Dr. Nettie Nurtch,” said a gruff voice. “I’m either out on a call, or—”
Clover was about to give up when there was a click and a loud bleating in the background, then, “Shush, Nanny….Hello? What ails your animal?”
“Dr. Nurtch, it’s Clover at the M.A.A.A. The pills didn’t work. Picnic is more visible, and the fairy horses are huge.”
“They’re losing their magic, no doubt about it.”
Clover stammered, a terrible thought swirling in her head, “Are…are they becoming…ordinary?”
“I don’t have experience with ordinary animals, but it appears so,” said Dr. Nurtch, sounding less gruff and more worried as she went on, almost as if she was talking to herself. “Can’t say I’m surprised, what with what’s happened here.”
“What do you mean?”
“My Nanny’s not herself either. It seems she too has the sickness. It must be very contagious. Have you tried the powder?”
“No, not yet.”
“Give it a go. Dust the animals with it. That should help. Watch out for sneezing. I’ll visit by foot tomorrow, first thing. Rest assured, I’ll find a cure.”
“Okay,” said Clover, taking heart.
“But you best put up a quarantine sign.”
“Quarantine? What’s that?” asked Clover.
“You know, shut down the Agency. Don’t let any animals in or out. And be extra careful with cleanup. Can’t let this spread, especially when we don’t know what we’re dealing with.”
Immediately Clover’s hope faltered. “Really? But…”
Too late. There was a loud bleating again, followed by another click, and Dr. Nurtch was gone.
“How will I make the sign? I don’t even know how to spell ‘quarantine,’” finished Clover, slumping in her chair.
She could ask Oliver. He would know. But she didn’t want to.
No matter how it was spelled, “quarantined” still meant that the Agency, her Agency, was closed.
That night, after a long afternoon of powdering the animals and being sneezed on, even by the fire salamanders (who she didn’t know could sneeze), Clover lay in bed and gazed at her memory wall, where she’d pinned up pictures of her past pets. She’d had lots of animals before coming to the Agency—ordinary ones, of course, including a fish, a puppy, and a bird. But they had all gotten lost or chosen other places to live. She’d never had a single one fall ill. And now she had a whole Agency full of sick animals, including Dipity. What would happen if Dipity got sicker and sicker? If all his magic disappeared?
What about Phoebe? Was it too late for her to rise from her ashes? If she didn’t, would she die?
Clover’s head was so full of questions, and she felt so uncomfortably hot—and prickly too, like she had dusted herself with the Presto Powder. Even opening the window to let in a breeze didn’t help. She tossed and turned all night, dreaming of the Agency.
As soon as the sun rose, she got up and headed to the Woods and down the path, hoping another visit from the vet would put her mind at ease.
But the vet wasn’t waiting at the Agency when she arrived. There were two customers there instead.
At least, she thought it was just two, but as she neared the door, she realized there were two regular-size people and two teeny-tiny others—with wings. Fairies! One of the fairies was flitting around in front of the QUARANTINED sign.
“No animals accepted!” cried the fairy in a deeper voice than Clover expected. “This is ridiculous!”
The fairy was about as tall as a thumb, and, though there was a shimmer about him because his wings were beating so fast, he was clearly NOT the twinkly kind who grants wishes or collects teeth. This fairy was dressed in a button-up shirt with a teensy tie.
“Well, Papa, we’ll just have to keep them, then,” piped the second fairy, who was even smaller and standing on the top step, holding a box the size of a postage stamp. He was dressed very un-fairylike as well, in a striped shirt and shorts, with his blond hair sticking out of a tiny baseball cap.
The regular-size customers—who, judging by the way they were dressed, were obviously witches—seemed equally distraught by the sign. “I really wanted you to meet him, Stelly. He’s SOO cute!”
The other witch, presumably Stelly, sighed. “It’s okay, Sabby. But I was really hoping to see those animals. I am just dying to get a cute pet like your Blizzy.”
Sabby? Blizzy? It must be that witch who adopted Blizzard. What was her name again? “Sabine?” Clover said at last.
The customers turned around. It was Sabine, the witch Oliver had helped with an adoption. She was wearing a black outfit, patterned this time with cobwebs, and holding a bottle of lemonade. Her friend Stelly looked like she might be Sabine’s twin. She was dressed in the same outfit, but instead of long black hair with a streak of purple, her hair was purple with a streak of black.
Sabine looked Clover up and down. “Do you work here too, helping Oliver?”
“Actually Oliver helps me. I’ve been here all summer,” said Clover.
“Oh!” said Sabine. “You’re sooo lucky. He’s sooo smart. And I bet he thinks those sparkles you’re wearing are spiderific!”
“What do you mean? I’m not wearing any sparkles,” said Clover, puzzled.
“I mean, I totally und
erstand if you have a crush on him too,” continued Sabine.
“I don’t!” said Clover.
Sabine just rattled on, “So, what’s going on? What’s with the sign? Are the animals sick? What about Ollie? Is he sick?”
Clover shook her head.
“That’s good. ’Cause I brought him some of my lemonade.”
“I’m sorry, but the Agency is closed. No one can go inside.”
“But we MUST leave our mice here,” burst the fairy father.
Clover had already forgotten about the fairies! “I’m sorry, Mr….?” she started.
“Mr. Flitmore. Maury Flitmore,” said the fairy.
“I’m Frances,” said the fairy boy. “My mimimouse just had these babies.”
Clover, and Sabine and Stelly as well, knelt down and peered closely into the box the boy held up.
“AW!” cried Stelly. Even Clover was tempted to gush. Inside were three of the tiniest mice she had ever seen—the size of peas, so small you couldn’t even see their whiskers. Fairy mice! She had never considered that fairies would have pets other than fairy horses—but of course! She remembered there was tiny soap for mimimice in the washing room. The Agency must have had some up for adoption at one point.
“Papa says I can’t keep them.”
“We certainly can’t. We’re moving tomorrow, to a smaller house.” Maury flitted close to Clover’s face, his arms crossed. “There must be something you can do.”
“I’m sorry,” said Clover, and to be polite she added, “And you too, Sabine and Stelly. Perhaps you could come back in a few days?”
“In a few days we’ll be forests away!” cried Maury. “We’ll just have to release them into the Woods.”
“Please, Papa, no!” cried Frances. “What if a big bug finds them…?”
“What if I took them?” interrupted Stelly. “They are super cute. I mean, I was thinking about getting a pet today.”
“That’s a toadally great idea!” exclaimed Sabine. “I mean, we’d have to keep them away from Blizzy, of course, but—”
“Really? You really want them?” said Frances.
“Oh, yes!” said Stelly.
“Is it okay, Clover?” asked Sabine.
Clover wasn’t sure what to say—or even if she should say anything. She hadn’t brought in the mimimice, so it wasn’t really an adoption, was it? “Um…”
Maury made the decision for her. “Of course it’s okay. We would be grateful if you took the mice, young witch.” He turned and glared at Clover. “Humph, this is not the Agency I expected. I heard that the non-magical girl who works here is good. I must say, I am VERY disappointed.” And with that, he took the box from his son and handed it to Stelly, then ushered her down the path, explaining, along with Frances, proper mimimice care. Clover felt awful.
“Don’t feel down,” said Sabine, lingering behind. “Fairies are always having freak-outs.”
“Really?” said Clover. “I didn’t think fairies—”
“Well, like my mom always says, glitter can hide what’s really inside.” Clover was about to nod when Sabine went on, “But not with Ollie. He’s not glittery at all. He’s, like, an actual expert. He’s sooo amazing! Anyway, can you give this to him? And tell him I was here?” She handed her bottle of lemonade to Clover and, with a flip of her hair, headed down the path.
Clover shouldered her bag and was about to head inside when she noticed two new people—burly-looking men, each pushing a wheelbarrow—coming up the path. More customers? she thought with a groan. She really needed to get to the animals. But then she saw what was in one of the wheelbarrows and she couldn’t help but be excited. Although one wheelbarrow was empty, the other was filled with water. And in the water sat…
A mermaid!
Her tail, hanging over the end of the wheelbarrow, was greeny-blue, and so was her hair. Shell jewelry decorated her neck and wrists, and her ears too.
“Hello? Are you Jams? Is Neptune here? A sea dweller told me he was,” said the mermaid breathlessly, pressing a wet towel to her forehead when she reached the bottom of the steps. Her lips were chapped and her cheeks flushed. “I’ve come such a long way.”
“I’m not Mr. Jams, but I work here. I’m Clover. And, yes, we do have Neptune. He came in two days ago. But—”
The mermaid gave her no chance to continue. “Oh, thank the Seven Seas!” she gushed. “I’ve been so worried about him. My name’s Meg.”
“Princess Meg,” added the porter pompously.
“You’re a princess?” asked Clover.
“Yes,” said Meg. “But we sea princesses are nothing like land princesses. Why, I’ve heard dreadful things about how they treat their pets. All they really care about is outshining their friends. You’re not a princess, are you?”
“Me? Of course not…”
“Oh,” said Meg, “I thought maybe because you’re so bright….It looks like you’re using Glamor Glitter.”
Clover shook her head. Why was everyone commenting on her looks? “I’m NOT a princess,” she said firmly. “I’m just an ordinary girl, a volunteer here—”
“It must just be the light, then,” interrupted the mermaid. “I’m not used to it, you know. Well, I’m glad you’re not a princess. I would never trust a land princess with a pet. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Neptune. That’s how I lost him, you know. I had found a field of sea grass, his favorite place to play. He was so excited, I let him off his lead rope. Then a whale passed by and startled him, and Neptune swam away. When I heard he was here, I came at once, though arranging transportation is always difficult.”
“I’m afraid—” started Clover.
“The porter can carry me in if he must. I can’t wait to see Neptune.”
“You…you can’t,” said Clover.
The mermaid’s tail twitched. “Why not?”
“The Agency is quarantined.” Clover pointed to the sign. “The animals are all sick, including your pet.”
Now the mermaid’s tail began to tremble. “Neptune’s sick? I really must see him!”
“I’m so sorry, I…I can’t let you,” said Clover. Meg clearly loved her pet, and Clover didn’t want her to see Neptune so transformed by illness. Meg might not even think it was Neptune at all.
Tears began to spill out of her eyes, but not tears like Clover’s, tears of pearls! “Neptune is my pet. It’s not fair. You get to see him!” The pearls fell to the ground, bouncing down the path.
“But that’s different. I…I work here…”
“And I’m his owner. I want to see him. Please?” sobbed Meg.
“I really can’t….”
“You’re speaking to a sea princess,” said the porter. “What she commands must be obeyed.”
Clover gulped.
“Please?” she sobbed. “Please, please?”
“Tomorrow!” burst Clover. “Come back tomorrow. Tomorrow Neptune will be better. I promise!”
The promise flew out of her mouth like an escaping bird. And there was no getting it back. Her face burned, and she wished she had a cool towel like the mermaid. Or a sea to sink into. But she didn’t. All she had was the prickly-hot feeling of making a promise she didn’t know how to keep, even if it did make the mermaid feel better.
Meg sniffled. Her tears stopped. “Tomorrow,” said the mermaid with a nod. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”
And, so, with a final sniffle and a wave, she and her porters were gone, out of the sun and back into the shady Woods, leaving pools of pearls behind them.
At last, Clover opened the Agency door. Oliver was waiting for her. “Here,” she said, pressing the lemonade into his hands. “This is from Sabine.”
He took the bottle, but instead of thanking her he said, “The Presto Powder hasn’t worked. The animals are extremely…extremely”—he pushed his glasses up his nose—“ordinary.”
Oliver was right. In the small animals’ room, the kittens still mewed and tumbled with each other, but without soaring, somer
saults, or sparks. The salamanders lay in their water dish, trying to cool off. In the stables, the unicorns were a medley of colors, their horns completely gone. But Clover couldn’t thoroughly check any of the animals because she had to deal with the fairy horses. The fairy horses were definitely NOT fairy-size. They no longer fit comfortably in one stall, and Clover struggled to move them into individual ones. Oliver was trying to help but kept getting in the way, so Clover sent him to go make ice cubes for the salamanders with his Wellness wand. The temperature in the salamanders’ tank wasn’t adjustable, and for the first time ever, they were overheating. Meanwhile, she finished with the fairy horses and then checked on Neptune.
The big tank was empty. Oh no, thought Clover. He’s disappeared!
Then…something caught Clover’s eye. A slight movement at the bottom of the tank. She knelt down and saw a palm-size sea horse, like the kind she’d seen in the aquarium at home, peeking out from a cluster of seaweed. She peered in through the glass. The sea horse had the same green eyes as Neptune; that was all. She gestured up, but Neptune floated away. He didn’t remember his commands.
Now she would never be able to keep her promise to Meg. She had to talk to Dr. Nurtch.
Clover hurried to the front room.
Oliver was there, waving a wand with one hand and holding open a book with the other. His hair was sticking up, and he was muttering different spells.
“I thought you were making ice cubes,” said Clover.
“I can’t,” replied Oliver. “My wands aren’t working. Not the Wellness wand, or the Culinary one. Not even my Clothes Folding wand.”
“This is not the time for clothes folding!” exclaimed Clover. “Forget about your wands. We have bigger problems. Neptune’s a sea horse. The unicorns are ponies, and have you checked on Phoebe’s ashes?”
Oliver shook his head.
“Well, you’d better. I’m going to phone Dr. Nurtch. What’s taking her so long?”
The phone rang and rang and rang.
The Missing Magic Page 5