It was Mumbles who caught a flash of movement in a corner as they neared the final flight of steps.

“Oberare!” he said.

He walked warily to the corner. There was a small hole at the base of the wall. He knelt and peered into it. He had the uncomfortable sensation that, from the darkness behind the wall, something was peering back at him.

“What is it?” said Angry.

“Umsall,” said Mumbles.

“Small?” said Angry. “It was probably a rat. These old buildings are full of rats.”

But Mumbles didn’t think it was a rat. He had only caught the slightest glimpse of it as it fled, but it had looked like a very small person.

If he hadn’t known better, Mumbles might even have said it was an elf.

• • •

The dwarfs were stunned into silence when they reached the top floor. The entire space was in the process of being transformed into the most spectacular of Christmas grottoes. Frost glittered on the trunks and branches of the immense silver trees supporting the ceiling, and a pathway that felt like marble wound over the floor while snow fell from above.

“It melts,” whispered Dozy. “When it touches your skin, it melts!”

And it did.

Somehow, the entire area had been lit so that it looked bigger than it was. It was like being in some great northern forest in the depths of winter. It even felt cold. As they progressed through it, the dwarfs saw the shapes of reindeer passing by. They appeared so real that the dwarfs could almost have reached out and touched them, running their fingers through the deers’ fur.

At the heart of the forest was a cabin made not of logs but of old stones. Smoke poured from its chimney and was lost in the darkness above, which glimmered with stars. Looking up, Jolly had the sense of being just one small person on one small planet in a vast, icy universe. It made him vaguely depressed, so he went back to looking at the cabin instead.

Angry was testing the stones with his hand.

“This cabin must weigh a ton,” he said. “What’s underneath it?”

Dozy tried to remember the floor plan of the store.

“I think it was more soft toys. I could go and check.”

“Well, I wouldn’t hang about down there if I were you,” said Angry. “If this thing falls through the floor it won’t be just the toys that are soft. It’ll reduce little kids to jelly.”

A man appeared from a doorway to their right. He wore a black three-piece suit with a gray tie and a slightly soiled white shirt. His face was blankly pleasant, like a greeting card without a personal message inside.

“Gentlemen,” he said. “Can I help you?”

Jolly looked at the note in his hand.

“We’re here to see Mr. Cholmondeley,” said Jolly.

“Chumley,” said the gentleman, his expression unchanged.

Jolly examined the note again.

“No, it’s definitely Cholmondeley.”

He handed it to Angry to check.