Ollie turned to his crew. “Okay, everybody! You know what to do!” he whispered.

“Pretty much!” “Kinda!” “I think so!” came their replies.

“Not so loud, guys,” hushed Ollie. “Remember, this is a super-spy, super-sneak-up, super-ninja-man, surprise attack-the-bad-guys super attack.”

“Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaahhhhh,” they all whispered back, feeling super-spy-inner-ninja non-Junkiness filling their every molecule.

Ollie waited patiently till the swan finally nudged up against the edge of the decrepit old dock, which was literally the end of the ride. He spoke quietly into a walkie-talkie. “Tinny, can you read me? Tinny, come in!”

After a moment there came “Ting! Ta ta ting.”

“Good,” replied Ollie. “Tell Chilly to remain submerged till I give the order. Do you read me?”

“Ta ta ta ting.”

“Okay, hang loose,” said Ollie. He peered carefully around. A single firefly drifted forward, as if making sure the coast was clear. It hovered near the top of the door that led to the lost toys’ prison room, then blinked several times.

“That must be their signal! Come on!” Ollie waved the gang onward, and they began to slip and climb and spring and tiptoe from the swan boat to the dock and then toward the entrance of the lost toys’ prison. The room was dim, the only light coming from Zozo’s lair.

“Can we yell ‘charge’ now?” asked Pet Rock.

“No,” said Lefty. “We’re still sneaking!”

“Well, can we yell ‘sneaking!,’ then?”

“I don’t think so,” said Topper.

“I think we just sneak till it’s officially charge time,” added Brushes.

Keys was being pushed along by several Junk helpers, and Clocker was riding along. Everyone had an old steak or butter knife, or a bent fork or a fondue spear as a weapon, except for Pet Rock—he really couldn’t hold anything. “Just throw me! Hard! I’m a rock! I can take it!” he insisted adamantly.

Ollie was the first to reach the forgotten favorites’ door, and through their prison, he could see into the well-lit chamber of Zozo’s lair and across the room to Billy. There was Billy!

Billy was sitting up with his knees to his chest and his back toward them. Several dozen Creeps surrounded him—the room was lousy with Creeps. And there, just past Billy, was Zozo’s table. And on the table was a doll, a ballerina doll. It looked like— No, it couldn’t be. But yes, it did—it looked just like the Nina doll from that photo of Billy’s mom from long ago. And standing next to the doll was Zozo, looking intently at Billy.