And Rosa presided over it all from a magnificent sleigh at the edge of the ice. It glittered golden in the light from the flaming torches and, unlike the other sleighs on the lake, it was not pulled by reindeer, but by a great clockwork bear. It was a huge beast – the largest of its kind that Beatrice had yet seen. A small crowd of guests had formed around the sleigh, and Rosa looked animated as she chatted with them effortlessly. Beneath her velvet winter cloak sparkled a gown trimmed in gold lace. Seated beside her, Eustace looked washed out and pale, as if he’d been unwell.

The air was filled with chatter, and laughter, and the swoosh of skates on ice, and the clinking of silver cups and the otherworldly music from the fairy balloons. But there was something else weaving underneath it all, too – something delicate, and sad, and wondrously, hopelessly special.

Finally Beatrice found herself in the very centre of the lake where, for a long while, she only stopped and stared. The supper booths had been built right upon the ice in a circle and several guests sat at them now, partaking of roast dinners brought out by sure-footed skating waiters. The seating was plush with reindeer furs and velvet cushions, and saucers of champagne that seemed to sparkle more than the stars themselves.

And at the centre of the lake was an extraordinary carousel, dripping in icicles. Beatrice immediately recalled the day Rosa had asked her whether she’d ever seen a carousel in the Winter Garden. Although Beatrice never had, she thought this looked exactly like the kind of wondrous thing one might find there. It was impossibly beautiful, with its twists of ice glittering in the torchlight. And the horses! They were more than clockwork, somehow. It seemed to Beatrice that they surely had souls. There was too much life in their eyes, too much joyfulness in their prances, too much alertness in their twitching ears. Surely they would step right off the carousel at any moment and trot into the frosted dark walk through the Scots pines.

It was beautiful indeed, but Beatrice was surprised by the size of the queue. Guests formed a line so long that it wound halfway around the lake. But then she overheard some of the chatter from the people waiting. She frowned, thinking she must have misunderstood – or that the guests had – but then she skated over to one of the signs that people had gathered excitedly around:

The Carousel of Icicles

Can take you back

To any memory

You would care to relive

Every detail

Every moment

Just as it was.

Beatrice felt her breath catch in her throat. Could such a thing be possible? And if you could go back, then could you change what had happened previously? She heard another guest nearby express the same thought, but the footman positioned beside the sign shook his head.