“What happened here?” asked Maria.

Nurd took in the Nerf bullets and sports balls scattered across the floor.

“My guess is that this lot tried to attack Samuel and whoever else was trapped, and they got more than they bargained for,” he said.

Wormwood paused by the remains of a small black stuffed bear. Its head had been almost knocked from its body, and was attached to its neck only by a couple of thin threads. Carefully, tenderly, Wormwood picked it up and held it in his arms, cradling its head in his left hand. A large tear dropped from Wormwood’s right eye.

“Is this what we have become?” he said. “We have set human against teddy, doll against man, and this little bear has paid the price! All he wanted to do was give pleasure to some small child, to be his friend in times of joy, and his comfort in times of trouble. Oh, the humanity!”

He lifted the bear and placed it against his shoulder, its small black body stifling his sobs.

“Ow,” said Wormwood, then louder: “Ow! Ow!”

“What is it?” said Nurd.

“The little swine is biting my ear!” said Wormwood.

He gave the bear a sharp tug, and its body separated entirely from its head. Unfortunately, the head remained attached to Wormwood’s ear, its sharp teeth continuing to gnaw at the lobe.

“Get it off!” said Wormwood. “It really hurts.”

Nurd tried tugging at the bear’s head, but its teeth were firmly embedded, and he succeeded only in painfully stretching Wormwood’s ear.

“That’s not helping,” said Wormwood. “You’re just making it worse.”

“Well, you’re the one who picked it up in the first place.”

“I felt sorry for it.”

“And see where it got you,” said Nurd. “Maybe you can offer to help those dolls sharpen their knives next.”

Maria arrived with a pencil borrowed from Brian. She managed to jam it between the bear’s jaws and prize them open just wide enough for Nurd to remove the head from Wormwood’s vicinity. He held it in front of Wormwood’s face by one of its ears, where it continued to snap at him, just as the elf had earlier tried to get at Nurd. Nurd considered this poetic justice. He didn’t want to be the only one being bitten by possessed objects.

“He seems to have a taste for you,” said Nurd. “Can’t imagine why. I bet you taste awful.”

He tossed the head in the direction of the doll hospital, disturbing the final delicate stages of an operation to restore an arm to a Hug-Me-Hattie doll. Hug-Me-Hattie’s arm slid under a radiator, and the doll doctors and nurses gave Nurd a look that could only be described as cutting.⁵⁸

“Sorry!” said Nurd. “As you were.”

The scientists, meanwhile, were watching the toys. With the exception of the clearly lunatic black bear that had nibbled on Wormwood, the toys still showed no desire to approach.

“Why aren’t they attacking us?” asked Professor Stefan.

“Maybe it’s because we have demons with us,” suggested Professor Hilbert. “It might have confused them.”