“I am sure there is,” Oliver said. He pushed his glasses up his nose. “Now THAT I can take care of.”
It didn’t take long for Oliver to find an entry under “sun sprites” in The Magical Animal Encyclopedia, Volume 4: Rare and Risky Animals, while Clover sat on the couch, careful not to touch anything.
“Sun sprites are also known as ‘monstrum solis,’” began Oliver. “They are a rare and elusive breed that utilizes a form of osmosis magic….” He paused. “What I mean is, they feed off others’ magic. They are born almost invisible and gather and crystalize sunbeams to make charms, like the one you’re wearing. The charm collects magic and powers the sun sprite. See?”
He showed Clover the pictures beside the entry that showed a sun sprite’s transformation.
One was a pixie, no bigger than a fingernail and dull as dust, the other a glowing orb, so bright it was impossible to make out its features, except for sharp teeth and pointed wings. It was wearing a charm around its neck that was bursting with sunbeams.
“Once they put on the charm, it’s on them for life,” continued Oliver.
“Oh no!” said Clover, fighting back the panic still in her heart. “How will we get it off? How will we give the magic back?”
It took Oliver a little longer, but eventually he managed to find an entry on how to remedy the sun sprite’s effects too.
“There is a way,” he said at last, “though I am not sure if we have what we need.”
“What is it? Tell me!”
“You need to take a bath, in something very rare. Moonbeams. Blue-moon beams.”
“Blue-moon beams!” exclaimed Clover. “Oh, Oliver, we do have some! Don’t you remember? In the tack room. You told me all about them when we…well, I…was making polish for the unicorns’ horns.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
“Yes,” said Clover, her voice full of smiles, “you did.”
There was only one bottle, but that was all they needed.
Oliver and Clover filled a big tub with warm water in the washing room and added a dash of the beams. They swirled silver and filled the room with the smells of a summer night.
Clover held her breath as she got in, with the necklace and her clothes still on. She’d never had a bath fully dressed before. But then, she’d never bathed in moonbeams either.
Would it work? She hoped more than anything it would….
Immediately, the water began to swirl and spin and sizzle, the sound a spark makes when it is being doused. Oliver stepped back, and Clover watched in amazement as bubbles spilled out of the tub. Not just any kind of bubbles! Each bubble was shaped like a magical animal! There was a puppy bubble, and kitten bubbles, unicorn bubbles…a whole parade of animals. Even a bubble shaped like a troll!
When a bubble popped, it burst into twinkles, like fireworks but without any sound. And the last one, the brightest, was red and gold and shaped like a bird, and when it popped, the last of the sizzling was over, and the water in the tub went completely still.
Clover felt still too. Her hands weren’t tingling. Her face wasn’t burning. She felt calm and cool. The blue-moon beams had worked!
She looked at the necklace. The sun charm—the wicked charm—was gone. It had dissolved completely away. All that was left was the chain, which undid easily and slipped right off her neck, falling with a plop into the water.
Oliver fetched her one of his robes to change into, and returned with a wand too. “Let’s see if this works,” he said. He waved the wand, and the robe folded into a neat square on the floor beside the tub. “My magic’s back,” he declared, grinning.
Clover grinned too, but she didn’t want to encourage Oliver, so she shooed him out so she could get changed. Even in the wizard’s outfit (which was sort of like a dress), she couldn’t remember when she had last felt so normal, so good, so unmagical—so herself.
But what about the animals?
The animals were back to normal, too. Magical-animal normal.
Dipity was green and Picnic was invisible. The magic kittens were zapping, floating, and tumbling. The fire salamanders were sizzling. The unicorns were prancing, showing off their milky-white horns (which, Clover noticed, looked remarkably sparkly, as though they had been polished!) and the tiny fairy horses were galloping around the stall. Thankfully, none of them had escaped, which they easily could have, right under the door slats. Clover and Oliver scooped them up and returned them to their cage. Neptune was big again and had his collar in his mouth, clearly wanting it to be put back around his neck. He was so smart!
“You can do it,” Clover told Oliver. “He’s really easy to manage.” So Oliver climbed up the ladder and gestured to the hippocampus, who stayed perfectly still at the top of the tank while Oliver fumbled a few times but at last got the collar around the water-horse’s neck.
Clover smiled, realizing she would be able to keep her promise after all when Meg came back the next day. And she’d have to phone Prudence and Humphrey too and let them know Picnic was better.
“But what about Phoebe?” she wondered aloud.
Clover and Oliver rushed to the rookery.
Clover’s heart fell. The ash remained in the center of the sun, dull and gray. A shadow fell across the happiness of the afternoon.
“It’s all my fault…” said Clover.
“It’s not your fault,” said Oliver. “It’s mine. That necklace was here because of me….”
Clover squeezed her eyes shut, trying hard not to cry.
But then they heard a cheep.
Oliver shook Clover’s arm. “Look!”
Clover slowly opened her eyes—to the most marvelous sight.
From the gray ash, a tiny bird lifted its head. Her wings were red and gold like the sun, her tail like a flame, and her eyes like glowing coals.
Phoebe—baby Phoebe—was born!
“What should we do with it?” asked Clover, pointing to the chain, when they’d drained the water from the tub in the washing room.
“We could just throw it out,” said Oliver. “It’s not dangerous anymore. But I’d rather send it back to my brother. I’ll write him a note. He really should be more careful about what he sends people. If he’d done his research properly, he would have known just how dangerous this relic was.”
Clover agreed.
So, while Oliver packaged up the chain, Clover phoned Dr. Nurtch. This time, she got through at once and was so happy to hear the vet sounding gruff as usual. She was also happy to learn that Nanny, the winged horse, and the tortoise had all recovered as well. Dr. Nurtch described how she had woken up turning human. Even her voice had been changing and that’s why she couldn’t speak properly. “That’s when I knew it wasn’t a sickness. It was a curse, but I couldn’t tell you when you visited.”
“Well, I figured it out,” said Clover. “Actually, Oliver and I did. We figured it out together.”
“Together, did you?” said the vet. “Doesn’t surprise me. Like I said, two heads are better than one.”
“Oh,” said Clover, remembering what the vet said when she left after her visit. “OH.”
It actually did make sense after all.
Clover was about to go home—it was getting late now—when she remembered Gump.
Poor Gump!
She had touched him too. Had he lost his magic? Was he okay now?
“Sorry, Gump,” said Clover. “Do you feel better?”
His mustache didn’t move. Not even a little!
“Is he okay?” she asked Oliver.
“I’ll find out,” said Oliver. “Gluck gloo?” he said to the gnome.
“Glick, glog, glog,” responded Gump.
“He says he’s glad to see you’re back to your usual self.”
Clover couldn’t believe it. “He talks!”
“Of course,” said Oliver. “It’s gnome language. Some gnomes speak English too, but not Gump. I studied it in my magical-animal courses. I was top of my class.” For a moment Clover thou
ght he was bragging, but then he added, “I could teach you.”
“Really?” asked Clover, surprised.
Oliver nodded. “Of course. You know…there are lots of magical-animal correspondence courses. That’s how I studied to become an expert. Perhaps you could take some courses too.”
“But I’m not very good at school,” said Clover.
“I can help you,” said Oliver. “If you could teach me…you know, some practical animal basics…for myself, and even for my book. There needs to be a chapter on invisible-animal care. You could help me.”
Clover nodded with all her might. “Of course!”
“I don’t want to rely on my wands,” Oliver continued.
“Well, actually,” said Clover, her stomach grumbling, “I could use a bowl of that chicken noodle soup.”
Oliver smiled. “Really?”
“Really,” said Clover.
And so, after removing the quarantine sign, they sat on the steps of the Agency, in the cool evening air, and ate three bowls each of chicken noodle soup made by the Wellness wand. Phoebe rested on Oliver’s shoulder, Dipity groomed his green fur by Clover’s side, and Picnic’s collar bobbed around as he chewed on the bone in the yard.
The soup was really tasty, with thick curly noodles, carrots, and parsley. Oliver produced the bottle of lemonade from Sabine too, and much to Clover’s surprise the lemonade and soup went well together. Clover enjoyed every bit, as Oliver explained more about the magical-animal courses. Although, he told her, he still couldn’t get his full Magical-Animal Doctorate without practical experience, he had finished all the courses long ago. As he described them to her, she grew more and more excited.
Could she really study magical animals? She could go to school, and work and study at the Agency afterward. Of course, she would miss playing with Emma in the afternoons. But she could still be friends with Emma and work at the Agency, couldn’t she? Just like Emma could make new friends at Pony Camp.
There was room in her life and her heart for lots. Just like there was room at the Agency. Lots of room for new animals and new friends—even slightly annoying ones.
Well, at least, some amount of room. Because just as she thought that, there was a CRASH and a WHOOSH, and then a holler, “Agency ahead!”
“What’s that?” said Oliver, peering up.
“It sounded like Mr. Jams,” said Clover.
It was indeed Mr. Jams.
And he was riding…a tree. No…it wasn’t a tree. It was a dragon! The most incredible, extraordinary dragon Clover had ever seen. The scales covering its body were like leaves, its wings like branches draped with moss. Its long snout looked like a tree trunk.
Sir Windsmith was sitting behind Mr. Jams, and following them were four other dragons, all as strange and amazing as the first. They were varying shades of greens and browns, with tails like branches, crooked and twiggy.
“Forest dragons—a whole flight of them,” whispered Oliver. “I’ve only read about forest dragons. I’ve never seen them before.”
“Me neither,” whispered Clover.
“So that was what their mission was about,” said Oliver. “Forest dragons are some of the most prized creatures around. They live deep in the Woods, in families of four or five. They are very gentle and sometimes become pets, but more often their heads become trophies. Sir Windsmith must have known these ones were in danger.”
“And he and Mr. Jams rescued them,” added Clover. “And brought them here.”
The dragons landed on the lawn, near the bone. Clover could feel the wind from their wings and smell their smoke, like burnt pine needles. Sir Windsmith slipped off the dragon’s back, and Mr. Jams followed with his suitcase. They looked tired and disheveled, but both were smiling broadly.
Phoebe swooped off Oliver’s shoulder and landed on Sir Windsmith’s. “Ah, there you are, my pet. You look wonderful—so youthful! I knew you would be safe here.”
Clover gulped. She hoped Sir Windsmith wouldn’t be too upset when he learned what had actually happened. She and Oliver would have to tell him later—if they could get a word in edgewise. Sir Windsmith was still going on. “How I missed you—enough, yes, to warrant a rhyme!
A knight is not right
with his pet far from sight.
Or maybe—”
Phoebe squawked.
“Blithering bones, Walter. One more rhyme, and I swear!” said Mr. Jams, but there was a twinkle in his eye.
He turned to Clover and Oliver. “We need your help to ready the stables. All the big stalls will be needed, with proper precautions for fire and smoke. Can you do it?”
“Of course!” Clover and Oliver burst out at the same time.
Clover looked at Oliver and smiled. He smiled back.
This was the Agency, and anything was possible—as long as the door was open and your heart was too.
I firmly believe, as Dr. Nurtch says, that “two heads are better than one,” especially when it comes to creating a book. In fact, the more heads the better, and I am so grateful for all the smart, thoughtful, amazing people that helped me with this story. To my friends, especially my writing group, the Inkslingers, and my teaching partner, Lee Edward Fodi. To my family, including my mom and dad and especially my brother, who is a nurse, and his girlfriend, who is a marine biologist and helped me with all my funny vet questions, like how to care for a hippocampi. To everyone at Disney Hyperion and HarperCollins Canada, especially my fantastic editors, Rotem Moscovich and Hadley Dyer, and assistant editor, Julie Moody. To Alexandra Boiger, whose beautiful illustrations always give me a thrill. Particular thanks to my incredible agent, Emily Van Beek; my dear husband, Luke, my writing soul mate; Vikki Vansickle; and my friend and poet Tiffany Stone, who helped SO much with plotting and editing this book, and knows Clover just about as well as I do.
Kallie George works as an author and editor in Vancouver, Canada, and she holds a master’s degree in children’s literature from the University of British Columbia. In addition to writing and editing, Kallie is a speaker and leads workshops for aspiring writers, and she is also the author of the first two books in the Magical Animal Adoption Agency series, Clover’s Luck and The Enchanted Egg. If she wasn’t an author, she’d be a magical animal vet. Visit Kallie online at kalliegeorge.com, and discover more about the Magical Animal Adoption Agency at magicalanimaladoptionagency.com.
Alexandra Boiger grew up in Munich, Germany, where she studied graphic design and then began a career in feature animation, allowing her to work for Warner Bros. UK and DreamWorks. After transitioning to children’s books she has illustrated numerous popular titles, including the first two books in the Magical Animal Adoption Agency series, Clover’s Luck and The Enchanted Egg. Alexandra is also the author/illustrator of her debut, Max and Marla. She lives with her husband and daughter in California. See more of her work online at alexandraboiger.com.
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