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men?’
    â€˜We’ve got a good agent,’ said the Third Wise Man.
    The two children turned and left, and Archimedes followed with his tail in the air.
    â€˜If you find out what to do, will you let us know?’ the Second Wise Man called after them.
    â€˜I can put it in the second edition of the book,’ said the Third Wise Man.
    â€˜Who’s Foreclaw?’ said Peter as they walked out of the Chinese Sixteenth.
    â€˜He’s a real wise man,’ said Festival. ‘My dad reckons he is the oldest person in the world. If anyone knows what to do, he should.’
    â€˜But that old man said he wasn’t real.’
    â€˜Oh, he’s probably just jealous because Foreclaw’s a proper wise man,’ said Festival.
    â€˜So, where is he?’ said Peter.
    â€˜That’s the trouble,’ said Festival. She pointed up to the roof. ‘He lives up there on the thirteenth gallery. Of course I knew we should have gone to see him straight away. It’s just that it was a lot easier to come here, so I thought we’d do that first in case Foreclaw had told the old men what to do when someone arrives without the book.’
    Peter looked doubtful.
    â€˜Well, he might have,’ said Festival as they set off up the stairs between the galleries.
    â€˜So what’s the problem?’ said Peter. ‘Let’s go and find him.’
    â€˜We’re not supposed to go above the ninth floor,’ said Festival. ‘And he lives on the thirteenth.’
    â€˜Why not?’ asked Peter.
    â€˜It’s dangerous,’ said Festival. ‘Bad people live up there, and monsters.’
    â€˜Have you seen them?’
    â€˜No, of course not, but I know they’re there. My dad’s told me all about them and you can hear scary noises at night,’ said Festival. ‘And sometimes things fall over the balconies.’
    â€˜What sort of things?’
    â€˜Dead bodies,’ said Festival. ‘My friend said she saw an arm once. She said it landed on the step right outside her house. There are weird creatures up there too.’
    â€˜Creatures? What sort of creatures?’ said Peter.
    â€˜I don’t know. I’ve never seen them,’ said Festival. ‘But my dad says he has. He says they were too mangled up to tell what they were.’
    â€˜Sounds like the sort of things grown-ups say to make you do stuff,’ said Peter.
    Festival agreed but she still looked scared.
    â€˜We haven’t got any choice, have we?’ said Peter.
    â€˜I suppose not,’ said Festival.
    â€˜It’ll be all right,’ he said. ‘There’s two of us, we’ll be okay.’
    Looking up from the ninth floor at the one above, the children could see that the books looked old and neglected. They could see dirty windows, some broken or boarded up. Doors hung off the hinges of deserted books and those that seemed to be occupied had a lost, desperate air about them. Peter had seen rundown streets like this outside in the city,where skinny dogs and cats and even people scratched through the rubbish for food. But out there, he had always been inside the safety of a car. As they walked towards the stairs, Festival began to look really scared. Peter tried to reassure her, but nothing seemed to cheer her up.

They reached the stairs that led up to the tenth floor. There was an iron gate at the bottom with a notice that said ‘No Entry’. The chain and padlock that had held the gate shut had been torn off by some immense force. The steel links, thicker than a finger, had been pulled straight like plasticine. Peter pushed the gate open and climbed through the rubbish up to the next level.
    â€˜Come on,’ he said, trying to sound as brave as possible. ‘It’ll be all right.’
    â€˜I know that,’ said Festival, with a tremor in her voice.
    Both children could feel the panic building upinside them as they picked their way over