"Either way, the star's still on the ground."
They stood there, locked in a stalemate, while the rest of the village watched with the fascination usually reserved for public hangings or particularly good gossip.
"What if," a small voice piped up, "we used the ladder?"
Everyone turned to look at Thomas, who had appeared seemingly from nowhere, covered in even more snow than before.
"What ladder?" Marianne asked.
"The really tall one from the church. Mr. Williams uses it to clean the windows."
There was a moment of silence while everyone digested this remarkably sensible suggestion.
"That's..." Marianne started.
"Actually brilliant," Alaric finished. "Well done, Thomas."
Thomas beamed. "Does this mean I get to help?"
"Absolutely not," Marianne and Alaric said in unison, then looked at each other in surprise.
"Jinx," Thomas said. "Now you have to buy each other a drink."
"That's not how jinx works," Marianne protested.
"It is in Hollingford."
"Since when?"
"Since right now. I just made it up."
"You can't just make up rules."
"Why not? Someone made up the first rules."
"He has a point," Alaric said.
"Don't encourage him."
"Why not? He's the only one here who's had a sensible idea all evening."
"That's..." Marianne paused. "Actually also a fair point."
The church ladder was fetched, and with considerably less drama than the tree-climbing attempt, the star was successfully raised to its position at the top of the tree. It was, Alaric had to admit, impressive once in place—catching the light from the lanterns and seeming to glow against the dark sky.
"It's beautiful," Marianne said softly, standing beside him as they watched the finishing touches being added.
"It's acceptable," Alaric conceded.
"High praise from you."
"I save my high praise for truly exceptional things."
"Like what?"
"Properly organized ledgers. Efficient filing systems. Tea that's exactly the right temperature."
"You're going to die alone, aren't you?"
