“With Coco’s help, I have been able to make three times as many deliveries, and never does the basket tip or wobble. She trots as though she were floating. Why, I never imagined a pet would be such a…sunny-side-up experience. I wanted to thank you with some cupcakes.” He began to unfasten the wicker basket from Coco’s back.
“I’ve never gotten a thank-you gift before…” Clover answered, amazed, but before she could say more, the puppy squirmed in her arms.
“Now, what is that, my dear? I can’t see it properly, but you are holding something, aren’t you?” said Monsieur Puff, staring at the floating ribbon.
“It’s a puppy. He’s invisible.” Clover let him jump down, and he bounded toward Monsieur Puff.
“Delightful,” said Monsieur Puff, setting down the basket, reaching out to try and find the puppy. “He’s more ghostly than I. What is his name?”
“I haven’t named him yet,” Clover began. “I…”
Achoo! Suddenly, Coco sneezed.
Achoo! Achoo! Coco sneezed again and again. Sparkly snot flew everywhere.
“Ooh la la!” cried Monsieur Puff. “This puppy—I think my dear Coco is allergic to it!”
“OHH!” cried Clover. Suddenly, it all made sense. “Coco never did eat any sugar-beet biscuits. She must have been allergic to the invisible puppy!”
Monsieur Puff twirled his wispy mustache. “Perhaps she has an animal allergy AND a food one. Different allergies often have similar symptoms.”
“That must be it,” said Clover agreeably. “I was SURE to be careful about the biscuits. Well, I’d better put the puppy inside, then.”
“Oh, no need to fuss. I have to tie up Coco anyway.” Monsieur Puff led Coco far away from the puppy, looping her rope around the gate.
Clover was trying to shoo the puppy away from his basket when Monsieur Puff returned.
“Coco has stopped sneezing,” he announced.
“That’s good,” said Clover. “It’s too bad she’s allergic to the—”
“PUPPY!” cried a little voice.
It was Lulu. She was holding her glasses in her hand. The puppy suddenly lost interest in Monsieur Puff’s basket and flew up into Lulu’s arms.
“Oh, Lulu,” said Leonard with his usual sigh, but then he caught sight of the floating ribbon.
“It is a puppy,” Clover explained. “An invisible one. I think you have a few more pets than just Hickory at your house, Mr. Hue.”
Leonard was speechless.
Lulu prodded him and pointed to his pocket.
“Oh…uh, Lulu insisted I bring you this, while it’s still fresh.” Leonard handed the bottle to Clover absentmindedly, still staring at the floating ribbon in his daughter’s arms.
Colors swirled inside the bottle, so rich and vibrant they looked like they might burst through the glass. They were so beautiful and mesmerizing, it was hard to look away.
“What is it?” Clover murmured.
“It’s a bottled rainbow,” said Monsieur Puff. “I haven’t ever seen one, but I’ve heard of them. I wish I could create icing in such shades!”
“She’s earned it,” said Leonard, turning his attention back to Clover. “Marigold said you came by the house? You sure take your job seriously.”
Clover blushed. “Thank you. And I’m sorry about Marigold’s umbrella. I’m afraid I lost—”
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. The ground began to tremble.
“The puppy is scared!” said Lulu, hugging the invisible creature close.
“He thinks it’s thunder,” Clover explained. “But it’s okay. I know that sound. It’s not thunder. It’s—”
“Giants!” exclaimed Monsieur Puff. “Why, this party is growing bigger and bigger by the minute.” Lulu giggled.
Prudence and Humphrey strode out of the Woods, wearing the largest rain hats and gumboots Clover had ever seen. Stepping over the gate, they stopped and Prudence pointed to Clover. “See,” she said, taking off her rain hat and sending a shower of raindrops upon Clover and Monsieur Puff. “I told you she could take care of herself.”
“I thought it was I who told you, my dearest diamond mine,” said Humphrey gently.
“But you were the one who insisted we check on her,” said Prudence, “even though I still have a headache….”
“There, there, my rose garden. I thought some fresh air would do you good. But you are right. It was a terrible storm.” He looked down at Clover. “Usually we aren’t affected by them at all, being up so high, but this time our beanstalk was trembling.”
“I just can’t imagine what it must have been like down here for you,” said Prudence, “being such a tiny, unmagical thing.”
“Yes, are you okay, Clover?” asked Humphrey.
Clover smiled. She didn’t feel bad being called tiny, or unmagical. She felt cared for.
“I’m fine, Prudence,” shouted Clover. “That’s really nice of you, though.”
“And who might these be?” asked Prudence, gesturing to the leprechauns and the ghost. The gust of wind from her hand whisked the ghost backward. He straightened himself up and smoothed down his mustache.
“This is Lulu and her father, Leonard. And this is Monsieur Puff.”
“Monsieur Puff? The renowned baker?”
“Ooo,” said Monsieur Puff, “I didn’t realize giants had heard of me.”
“Yes, well, we haven’t tasted any of your goods, but I read an article about you in this summer’s Magical Living magazine.”
“I would be delighted to offer you a taste. Why don’t you join us for a picnic?” asked Monsieur Puff. “I have plenty of cupcakes.”
Prudence wrinkled her giant brow. “I don’t know. We have to get back to our beanstalk. We have nothing to guard our treasure, as you know, Clover. I suppose no suitable pet has come in?”
“Oh, are you looking for a griffin?” asked Leonard. “They often guard treasure at the end of rainbows.”
“Dear me, no,” replied Prudence. “They are much too clawy and beaky for me. We are looking for a sweet, soft guard animal, gentle like us. But protective, of course.”
Lulu shuffled over to Clover and whispered something in her ear. Clover nodded with a big smile.
“Actually, I think we do have JUST the pet for you. He’s not ready for adoption yet, and still needs to be trained, but Lulu has offered to help with that.”
“Really?” Prudence and Humphrey looked dumbfounded. “Where is he? What is he?”
Clover pointed to the floating ribbon in Lulu’s arms. “This is a winged puppy. He would be the perfect guard animal, when he is bigger, and with the right training. He is invisible, so thieves wouldn’t see him.”
“A puppy?! Oh, how precious!” cried Prudence. “How perfect!”
“Yes, he would be. You can’t adopt him yet; he is still just a puppy, and needs to grow bigger. But that shouldn’t take long. And he’ll get braver too, with age.”
Lulu nodded, and Clover continued, “But you can visit and get to know him as he grows, and he can get to know you too.”
“Well, that does sound perfect. Doesn’t it, my sweet shop?” said Humphrey.
“I’ve always adored puppies,” cooed Prudence, stooping down to pat the puppy with one finger. “Oh my!” She laughed. “I think he just licked me!”
“He must like you,” said Clover. “This was all Lulu’s idea, you know.” She smiled at Lulu and Lulu smiled back.
“Now this calls for a celebration, doesn’t it, my dumpling dish?” said Humphrey. Prudence nodded, and Monsieur Puff smiled and opened his basket.
There are few things quite as pleasant as a picnic in the sun after a hard rain. Monsieur Puff took out what Clover thought was a lacy tablecloth from his basket. But when he unfolded it—with a poof—it became a lovely white picnic table. Prudence sat on the grass on her rain jacket (well, actually both hers and Humphrey’s jacket). As the baker set out plates, Clover fetched some tea and napkins and treats for Dipity and the puppy. She also took a treat (
an apple—not a sugar-beet biscuit!) over to Coco. The little unicorn seemed fine, now that she was far enough away from the puppy. Then Clover brought out the magic kittens so they could get some sun, and set them up in a cage beside Dipity, who could keep them calm. Prudence cooed, “Oh, how very sweet,” while poking a finger at the cage.
“They’re very high maintenance,” Clover warned, just as a spark flew off Lightning’s tail and onto Prudence’s giant finger.
“Ouch! Dear me! What dangers!”
“Not everything is as it seems,” said Clover.
“You are certainly wise beyond your size,” said Prudence.
“Mr. Jams will no doubt be very proud,” added Monsieur Puff. Then he offered cupcakes to everyone, one by one, so they didn’t float away. Clover, Lulu, and Leonard took chocolate ones, Humphrey strawberry, and Prudence raspberry with white icing. To the giants, the cupcakes were the size of raisins.
“Oooo,” Prudence said. “That IS delicious. Humphrey, we must have him cater my next Reading Club meeting. My friends would love these cupcakes.”
“But, my dear pumpkin patch,” began Humphrey, “I thought the Reading Club had finished. Remember what happened last time—”
But Monsieur Puff was so pleased, he broke in, “I would be honored to cater such a magnificent event….”
As Prudence and Monsieur Puff began to plan excitedly, Clover enjoyed the sun on her face and her second cupcake. It tasted even better than her first.
Too bad the last bite floated off and got stuck in the branches of a tree!
This certainly was the most peculiar picnic Clover had ever been to. Two giants sat beside two leprechauns on a weedy front lawn, with a ghost hovering in front of them. The strangest guest of all was Gump, who they had brought over to the picnic table, and who currently had a very funny look on his face. Lulu leaned over, “It’s the puppy. He’s licking the gnome’s mustache.” Clover giggled.
No matter how strange, the picnic felt perfect. And suddenly she knew the perfect name for the puppy, too.
When Picnic fell asleep on Lulu’s lap, Clover carried him in. He was so soft and tiny. She quickly set up his bed in the small animals’ room. She chose a cage that had room enough for Picnic to stretch his wings and that was far away from the magic kittens. Then she lined it with some blankets and the fresh feathers Cedric had delivered. She had just laid the little puppy in it when she heard a familiar voice echoing in from outside. “Great gobs of magic! What a surprise to find you all here.”
It was Mr. Jams. He was back—and he sounded jolly. Clover hurried out of the room to meet him, but instead, she nearly collided with someone she had never seen before!
He was around her age and height, with brown hair that reminded Clover of a bird’s nest, and serious-looking brown eyes. His complexion was pale, made paler by his dark blue wizard robes, which fell to his feet. There were golden eggs embroidered all over them. The robes were slightly damp—and so was his hair, as though he had been caught in the storm. He was lugging an enormous suitcase that seemed as though it were filled with stones.
He pushed his glasses up his nose. “I’m looking for Clover, the one who keeps the Agency running smoothly. Mr. Jams says I should ask her to show me the egg.”
Clover smiled. “I’m Clover. Who are you?”
The boy looked her up and down, surprised. “My name is Oliver Von Hoof. I am a magical animal expert.”
Clover’s mouth dropped open. THIS was the magical animal expert? She had expected an ancient man with glasses and a beard that fell to his knees. Or at least someone as old as Mr. Jams. After all, the expert had written three volumes in the Magical Animal Encyclopedia. But Oliver Von Hoof was no older than she was.
“You’re just a boy!” she said aloud.
“And you’re just a girl,” said Oliver.
Clover was about to retort that she was a volunteer, which was much different than an expert, and ask how a boy could be an expert in anything, but stopped herself. If there was one thing she knew now, it was that you needed to look with your heart rather than your eyes. And her heart said that the least she could do was give him a chance.
She stuck out her hand. Oliver eyed her warily, then shook it.
“Come on,” said Clover. “Let’s go get Mr. Jams. I have so much to tell him, and you too! So much has happened!”
“How long has the egg been incubating? Is it stirring? Did its spots change color? Is it making noises?”
“Not anymore.” Clover paused. “It hatched.”
Oliver’s eyes went wide. “But…but…that’s impossible,” he sputtered. “I must see it at once!”
“Well,” she replied, “see is not quite the right word.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll explain everything,” Clover said. Then, with a smile, she added, “Welcome to the Agency.”
I am so grateful to all the people who helped “hatch” this book. My friends, including Lee Edward Fodi and the rest of the Scooby Gang; my writing group, the Inkslingers; and my writing soul-mate, Vikki Vansickle. My family, including my mom and dad, my brother and his girlfriend, and my nona and nono (who is always with me in spirit). My fabulous teams at Disney Hyperion and HarperCollins Canada, including the incredible editors Rotem Moscovich and Hadley Dyer, and assistant editor Julie Moody, and absolutely everyone else in both houses; and Alexandra Boiger, who brings Clover to life in the most magical way. Special thanks to the one and only Emily Van Beek, the best agent ever, and the utterly amazing Tiffany Stone, who helps me every word of the way. And to my husband, Luke, for making my life magical.
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. She finds all eggs enchanting, even ordinary ones. Visit her online at kalliegeorge.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. Since transitioning to children’s books, she has illustrated numerous popular titles, including the first book in the Magical Animal Adoption Agency series, Clover’s Luck. 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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