Eve. Let local airports know that they're doing a magic trick and might get a ping on the radar from it. That way everyone gets to see us doing our thing, and we don't get tagged as targets. If we play it right then it could be a big event, and I bet seeing you lot riding across the sky will make a lot of people happy.”

“Hmm... Blitzen Looked questioningly to his partner.

“If it's worked right, then we might be able to swing that." Donner nodded.

"Great! I'LL put you in touch with Elina tonight. She's coming back up here to give her weekly report.” Wendall clapped his large hands together with excitement. "I'll just-"

“Excuse me, sir?" A wavering voice called to him from nearby.

Wendall turned from the reindeer to look over to see an elf he recognised, though he couldn't immediately recall where he'd seen him before. Lifting a finger to ask for one moment, he Looked back to his reindeer.

“Let's put this into motion then if we can. I'd Like a solid outline of a plan in place by the end of the day tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir!" Both reindeer chimed, clipping their hooves together in a respectful salute.

Encouraged by their enthusiasm, Wendall nodded and turned back to the elf only to see that he'd apparently vanished. Where had he seen the guy before? Just as he was racking his brains trying to remember, he caught sight of a familiar pointed hat disappearing around the corner to the stable entrance.

“Hey! Wait up!"

Wendall ran across the enormous domed room. By now he could really cover ground for a guy that seemingly weighed more than a small oak tree. Apparently the natural build of Santa Claus wasn't the tubby fellow seen on many Christmas cards but rather more along the Lines of, as his grandmother would have said: a brick shit house.

He quickly found himself at the entrance to the stables and stopped another passing elf who was hauling a stack of fresh straw inside.

“Hey, have you seen a little guy come past here recently?" Wendall asked.

“Are you serious, sir?" the elf looked up from his stack of straw to loft a brow in Santa's direction.

"Oh, right. Guess that covers about half the population down here, huh?" he stroked his thick, white beard.

“He was blonde. I remember him from somewhere. Seemed like he wanted to ask me something important.”

“Oh yeah, that was Murty. He was hanging around out here a while trying to pluck up the courage to go in and see you.”

“Murty? Name doesn't ring a bell. Sorry, I'm still trying to get to know everyone. Is he ok?"

“Buggered if I know." The elf shrugged his shoulders before remembering who he was talking to and quickly adding: “Sir.”

“Right. I'll go find him then. Thanks.“