The Missing Magic

by Kallie George

  Dr. Nurtch’s eyebrows were the same color as her hair, and they rose up in one piece when she saw Clover.

  “At last. It’s good to finally meet you,” said the vet, shaking Clover’s hand with force. Clover had missed Dr. Nurtch’s last visit, to check on the magical kittens, because the vet had arrived before the sun was up. “But schedules are schedules and mine is beyond ridiculous. Good thing Nanny here is an early riser,” she said, gesturing to the winged goat. “Today we had an appointment at dawn. Another case of a wand-happy witch, trying to see if she could get her bat to speak Latin. Of course that was a smart idea,” Dr. Nurtch huffed with a roll of her eyes. “I’ve never seen a bat so confused. Poor thing was reciting the alphabet upside down and backward.”

  “‘Sense not spells,’ right?” said Clover.

  Dr. Nurtch smiled, revealing a large gap in her teeth. “Right you are,” she said. “Now what’s the problem here?”

  Clover invited the vet in and showed her Dipity and Picnic, who were both on the couch. She started to explain when Oliver interrupted, “I thought at first it might be a case of transformatitis, but, as Dr. Gibbs says, transformatitis occurs within an hour and it has already been three. Dr. Gibbs is a family friend of the Von Hoofs, you know. He even gave me…” Oliver reached into his pocket and started to pull out a wand.

  Dr. Nurtch held up one hand to stop him from continuing, then set her bag on the table. When she opened it, Clover saw a pair of giant tweezers, a teeny-tiny bandage roll, and a syringe that zigzagged like a lightning bolt. She wondered what else was inside. “I’ve heard of Gibbs,” said the vet. “Uses a Wellness wand, I hear. They seldom work. Can’t stand those things.”

  Oliver looked deflated, much to Clover’s delight. He stuck his wand back in his pocket. Dr. Nurtch didn’t seem to notice and began to check Dipity. First she examined his fur, peering closely at his tail, and then at a white patch on his stomach.

  “I don’t think that was there before,” said Clover.

  “Hmm,” replied Dr. Nurtch, pulling out a thermometer from her bag and placing it in Dipity’s ear. After a moment, she checked it. “Temperature seems good.” She held her stethoscope against Dipity’s side and listened. “Heart rate regular, breathing too. How’s his appetite?”

  “Normal,” replied Clover.

  “Kit’s got magic?”

  “He can calm people, and animals too.”

  “It’s a rare talent that is correctly referred to as—” started Oliver.

  “Yes, yes, proximal tranquility,” said Dr. Nurtch, waving Oliver quiet again, much to his dismay, as she took what looked like a long black wand from her bag.

  “A wand! You do have one!” Oliver cried triumphantly.

  Dr. Nurtch shot him a withering glare. “This is NOT a wand. This is a magimeter, of course.”

  What exactly a magimeter was, Clover didn’t know, and clearly neither did Oliver, so she watched curiously as Dr. Nurtch held it over Dipity. After a moment, the magimeter began to glow a faint yellow. “Hmm. Low.” She clucked her tongue and moved on to Picnic before Clover could ask what that meant.

  Picnic, of course, was much harder to examine, but since his nose and paws were visible, and the golden tips of his floppy ears were now too, it made things easier for the vet. She checked his nose first, then pressed her stethoscope on what had to be his side. “Heart rate seems good,” she noted. She took out a square magnifying glass and peered through it. “No fleas either.”

  “Do magic animals get fleas?” asked Clover.

  “Of course,” said Oliver knowingly. “Dragon fleas spit itchy fire. Unicorn fleas are sparkly so they blend in with unicorn hair. Invisible fleas shall be part of chapter seven in my volume on invisible animals.”

  “Well, our animals don’t have fleas,” said Clover confidently. “I keep them clean.”

  Dr. Nurtch wasn’t listening. She held the magimeter over Picnic. It glowed a faint yellow. The vet clucked her tongue again.

  “What does it mean?” asked Clover.

  “Not sure yet,” said Dr. Nurtch. “Except this is a magical malady of some sort. Have any other animals been affected?”

  Oliver shook his head, but Clover said, “What about Phoebe?”

  “The phoenix is a separate case,” said Oliver.

  “What’s this?” asked Dr. Nurtch. “I didn’t know you had a phoenix here.”

  “We’re just looking after her for a bit,” said Clover. “Well, we were, but now…”

  While Clover explained, Dr. Nurtch’s eyebrows scrunched closer and closer together. When Clover was done, the vet insisted on seeing Phoebe’s ashes, which got an orange color reading from the magimeter and a double tongue cluck from the vet, who then declared she must check the rest of the animals as well.

  “I can show you around,” said Oliver.

  Dr. Nurtch shouldered her bag. “Best have the one most familiar with the animals. Come, Clover. Let’s start with the unicorns.”

  Clover couldn’t help but smile.

  As it turned out, there wasn’t much she had to do for the vet, except hold her heavy bag. After the stables, they moved to the tank room, where the vet checked Neptune’s teeth, nose, and tail too, the hippocampus obediently lifting it out of the water for her. “Very well trained,” commented Dr. Nurtch. After collecting a sample of the hippocampus’s scales, she held the magimeter over him. Instead of a pale yellow, it glowed a faint pink. “Hmm, better,” said Dr. Nurtch.

  Then they were on to the small animals’ room. The only animals the vet needed some help with were the fairy horses. Dr. Nurtch’s fingers were too big for the tiny thermometer and stethoscope that were required to check the fairy horses’ temperatures and heart rates, so Clover got to use them, holding each horse on one hand and the tiny tools in her other. “Good job,” said Dr. Nurtch. “You’ve a pixie’s touch.” Clover felt proud.

  With every animal, Dr. Nurtch used the magimeter. Each time it glowed a faint pink, except for the salamanders, which glowed turquoise. Did pink mean normal? But then what did turquoise mean?

  When they returned to Oliver, after scrubbing thoroughly in the washing room, Clover found out.

  “Generally low magic levels all around. Except the fire salamanders,” announced Dr. Nurtch, with a sniff through her lumpy nose. “They’re fine. The other animals’ readings are better than Picnic’s and Dipity’s, but still not normal. You said Mr. Jams is gone? That’s a shame. Not that you aren’t capable, Clover. I know you are. It’s just that I’ve never seen anything quite like this. The hippocampus recently arrived, correct?”

  “I told Mr. Jams we weren’t taking proper precautions with Neptune, though he insisted it was fine,” said Oliver. “Newcomers do tend to be the bearers of blights.”

  Clover couldn’t help but think, You’re new too, though she didn’t say it aloud.

  “Hmm, well if Mr. Jams thought Neptune was fine, I’m apt to believe him. Still, I’ll do some research on waterborne illnesses. Perhaps consult A. Brook—”

  “Is it the Encyclopedia of Magical Marine Mammals?” asked Oliver excitedly.

  “Brook,” said Dr. Nurtch, looking, to Clover’s delight, more than a little annoyed now. “As in Aloysius Brook, a vet of the sea, who’s a good friend of mine. Yes, I think I’ll speak with him. In the meantime”—Dr. Nurtch opened her bag and rifled through it—“these are Pocus Pills,” she said, producing a round bottle as big as Clover’s fist. “Try ’em first. They usually stop loss of magic. Give one to each animal—even the salamanders, just in case.”

  Then she took out another bottle that was narrow and long. “If that doesn’t work, this is Extra-Strength Presto Powder. It’s vile stuff; animals don’t usually like it. But it will boost the magic of an animal in an urgent situation. ’Course you should phone me if things get worse. Or if things get better. I’d like to have an update either way. Here’s my card, as a reminder.”

  She handed it to Clover. It read:

  D
R. NETTIE NURTCH, MAGICAL-ANIMAL VETERINARIAN

  THE HILLSIDE HOSPITAL

  JUST BEFORE BEYOND, THE WOODS

  999-111-SENSE

  “What about Phoebe?” asked Clover. How were they supposed to give ashes medicine?

  “Blow on the embers. Gently, mind. That should help. And I noticed one of the kits has been adopted. Was that recently?”

  “Just yesterday,” said Clover.

  “I handled the adoption,” said Oliver. “I’ll phone Sabine to make sure the young grimalkin is healthy.”

  Sabine must be the witch’s name, thought Clover.

  They were interrupted by a loud bleating outside.

  “Time to go,” said Dr. Nurtch, closing her bag with a snap. “Nanny is good at keeping me on schedule. I’ve got to check up on Snort. Remember him, Clover?”

  Of course she remembered Snort! He was the baby dragon she’d adopted out earlier in the summer. “Is he okay?” she asked.

  “Oh, yes. He’s got that troublesome fire under control now, with the help of Henry. It’s just a normal checkup. Not like this.” Dr. Nurtch clucked her tongue again. “It’s really too bad Mr. Jams isn’t around. That Jams is always off fixing one sticky situation or another. Jams…Sticky…” She chuckled at her own joke, and Clover was surprised how very similar to Nanny her laugh sounded.

  While Dr. Nurtch cleaned her supplies in preparation for her next appointment, Clover fetched Nanny from Gump, who looked relieved to see the goat go. Nanny nibbled at one of Clover’s braids. When she moved on to the collar of Clover’s dress, Clover was sure she saw Gump smirk. But before she could say anything to him, she felt a tug on the necklace. Nanny was nibbling at the chain!

  “Stop that! You’ll get me into trouble,” said Clover, quickly pulling it away from the goat. She still hadn’t returned the necklace. There hadn’t been time! I’ll just keep wearing it for now, she thought. Until things settle down. After all, Oliver hadn’t noticed it was missing. For such a know-it-all, he wasn’t very observant.

  Clover had just tucked the charm out of sight when Dr. Nurtch emerged with Oliver tagging along behind her. Slinging her bag across her square shoulder, the vet settled into the saddle and was off, but not without some final advice.

  As Nanny lifted into the air, wobbling a little under the weight of the vet, Dr. Nurtch hollered, “Remember, two can be better than one—unless, of course, you’re a three-headed dog.”

  It was the first thing the vet had said that didn’t really make sense.

  The Pocus Pills were tiny and very colorful, like the sprinkles on cupcakes. They even smelled sugary. As far as pills went, they didn’t seem so bad. But the animals didn’t want to take them. Picnic wouldn’t stay still long enough, and Dipity turned up his nose. Clover thought holding the salamanders would help her give them their pills, although she worried they might be too hot to hold, hotter than baked potatoes. They weren’t. But they didn’t take their pills either. They seemed to like being picked up so much, they fell asleep as soon as they were in her hands.

  Clover needed another plan. When she was putting the salamanders back in their tank, she remembered how she used to feed Esmeralda the toad her vitamins, by mixing them in with some squashed flies. Maybe disguising the pills would work?

  So Clover slid a Pocus Pill into a hollowed-out pepper—and Flame actually ate it! Ash ate his too. She used the same trick with the rest of the animals, hiding the pills in their favorite foods, except for Neptune.

  Since he was so well trained, Clover didn’t have to hide the pill, which was a good thing because she wasn’t sure what to hide it in. Sea-foam wouldn’t work.

  For the unicorns, she hid the pills in apple slices. They gobbled them up. All except Plum. He kept nudging his bucket, which still smelled like the cinnamon-raisin oatmeal from the night before.

  “Now you’re being picky?” Clover sighed.

  Plum whinnied, but Clover looked at him sternly and held out the apple slice. “Eat up. You need this.” And at last Plum did.

  After Oliver had phoned Sabine and found out Blizzard was fine, he volunteered to blow on the ashes in the rookery while Clover gave the animals their medicine. When she checked, the ashes didn’t seem to be glowing any brighter. To distract herself from worrying, Clover began work on the new Wish Book, while Oliver went upstairs to research magical-water-animal diseases.

  The Wish Book was an important part of the Agency. It was for customers to record requests for animals the Agency didn’t have. The old Wish Book had been chewed to pieces by Picnic, so Mr. Jams ordered a new one. With a big gilt cover, it looked identical to the first, except that its pages were blank. Clover’s job was to copy as much as she could still read from the old book.

  It was a time-consuming task, even if she was getting better at using the drippy quill pen. The one good thing was that she didn’t have to record any requests that had been filled. She came across quite a few, and each one made her happy. Especially this entry: Miss Opal, fortune-teller / Looking for a mood creature, firefly preferred. There was a check mark beside it that Clover had put there herself at the beginning of the summer.

  I wonder if Miss Opal could see into the future and tell me how long Oliver is going to be at the Agency? And what about me? Will I be able to stay on once school starts? She was tempted to give the fortune-teller a call, but if she was going to ask for a fortune, shouldn’t she ask about the animals? Maybe the fortune-teller could “see” what their sickness was. Wasn’t THAT really what mattered? Then she remembered that fortune-tellers—especially Miss Opal—often spoke in riddles, and what she needed right now was a clear answer.

  Clover didn’t notice her quill pen was dripping until Oliver walked in.

  “You’re getting ink everywhere,” he commented. “And your penmanship…”

  “Don’t you have other things to do?” asked Clover, her cheeks flaring. “Why are you here?”

  “It’s the animals’ suppertime,” he replied. “I’ve set my Alarm wand to alert me to all the mealtimes at the Agency. It is very handy.”

  Clover rolled her eyes, but it was time to feed the animals their suppers, so she put the book away.

  The animals didn’t seem better. Just the opposite, in fact. Both of Picnic’s ears were visible and the tips of his wings too. The fairy horses looked bigger and the hippocampus smaller. Definitely smaller. His collar had slipped off and was lying in the seaweed at the bottom of the tank.

  “Wait until the morning,” said Oliver. “It’s common knowledge that Pocus Pills need at least twelve hours to take full effect.”

  Clover hoped that for once Oliver, Mr. Know-It-All, was correct.

  That night during supper, Clover thought of Emma. Although Emma read lots, like Oliver, she never acted like a know-it-all. She was nice to everyone. Clover realized she hadn’t received a postcard from Emma in a while. She’s probably too busy making lots of new friends at Pony Camp, thought Clover.

  Would Emma seem different when she saw her again in the fall? Clover knew she herself had changed. Would they still be best friends? And how would she keep the Agency a secret—especially if she was still volunteering there?

  As though her mom could read her mind, she said, “Have you thought about continuing at the Agency when school starts, Clover? I know you’ve been enjoying it.”

  “I’d love to,” replied Clover. “And I really want to. But there’s another volunteer and—”

  “The more help the merrier, I always say,” said her dad. “Your mother and I couldn’t imagine working without each other.”

  Clover didn’t say anything, but she had no trouble at all imagining working without Oliver.

  “Oliver, what’s going on?” Clover cried the next morning, when she entered the Agency to the sound of loud barking.

  Was it Picnic? He never barked! The noise was coming from the small animals’ room. There, she found Oliver standing on a chair beside one of the large empty cages at the back of the room. P
icnic perched on the top edge of the cage. It was him barking. And no wonder. He was stuck.

  He was almost completely visible (and the cutest puppy she had ever seen), with sunshiny fur and floppy ears, and two feathery golden wings that he was flapping frantically with every bark. But the wings weren’t lifting him off the top of the tank. They seemed much smaller than the wings Clover had felt when he was invisible. Just as Picnic was appearing, his wings were disappearing!

  “He must’ve flown up there but now he can’t fly down,” Clover thought aloud.

  “I know! I’ve been trying every appropriate spell!” said Oliver breathlessly, turning to Clover, a wand in his hand. He paused when he saw her. “Oh, you look—”

  Now wasn’t the time for another one of his lectures! “Well, no wonder he won’t come down,” Clover interrupted, “not when you’re pointing that at him. Here, let me.”

  Clover stepped on a chair too. “Jump down. Come on, Picnic. There’s a good puppy,” she coaxed.

  Picnic stopped flapping.

  “Come on….” Clover reached up, and the puppy leaned forward and leapt into her arms. He gave her a happy lick and then squirmed free and bounded off. He really was the cutest puppy she had ever seen. But he wasn’t supposed to BE seen!

  The magic kittens weren’t displaying any of their magic, and Dipity, lying on top of their cage, was all white except for one green ear and green paws. Clover couldn’t see the fire salamanders at first, until she looked closer and realized they were hiding in the shade, which was very unusual for such heat-loving creatures. Maybe they’re sick now too, she thought.

  The fairy horses were the worst off, all squished in their cage like sardines. Where before the ferns were like trees to them, now the horses towered over them like giants. Tansy’s nose even reached the top of the cage, and she was licking at the latch. Butternut and Buttercup were pushing against each other, vying for space. And Acorn was standing in the water dish because there was no other room left.