She showed her ticket and then followed the marked path curving round to the back of the house. The noise and music got louder with each step, and when at last the guests turned the corner and found themselves on the veranda of Raven Hall, the grounds spread beneath them like a picture book. Unlike the maze of her own gardens, which only revealed themselves one small piece at a time, Rosa’s garden was all on display at once, and the effect was dizzying, making it every bit as impossible to take in.

Rosa hadn’t called them Fire Gardens for nothing. Vibrant flames seemed to dazzle out of every corner, so bright that they left white imprints on her eyes whenever she turned her head, and somehow they only served to deepen the dancing shadows at the outskirts. But the sight that immediately arrested Beatrice’s attention was the dozens of miniature hot-air balloons suspended in the night sky above them.

One floated close by where she stood on the veranda, and Beatrice saw that the balloon was powered by a mechanical jet that blasted a tiny flame into it at intervals. It was intricately painted with English flowers, and the basket was only large enough to hold a single clockwork fairy. She was dressed in a velvet ballgown and held a tiny violin in her hands. Music poured from the balloon, getting louder as it approached them and softening as it floated away.

Beatrice looked up at the other balloons and realised they held an entire orchestra of clockwork fairies, each playing a different instrument. The fact that they kept moving about created an undulating tone to the music, which spilled out over the garden in waves.

There was no snow left on the lawn, having all melted away beneath the force of the flames. Perhaps Beatrice would need that fan after all. It was already clear that Rosa’s garden was to be no fairyland. Everything was fire and clockwork, with not a single pretty butterfly or frosted flower in sight. Even the music from the floating orchestra was more surreal than beautiful. Beatrice didn’t recognise any of the compositions she heard. Either these scores were by some obscure composer that she was unfamiliar with or they were entirely new.

She walked down the steps, her cloak dragging along the frozen stones. She took the first path she came across and quickly learned that Rosa’s garden was full of mechanical marvels, from clockwork mermaids in the fountains to a miniature steam train that slowly wound its way along the grass on a special track. It proved to be one of the most popular attractions in the garden, thanks to the fact that each carriage carried a selection of champagne saucers, all filled to the brim with sparkling golden bubbles. Guests laughed in delight as they reached down to help themselves.