One day, after the guests had finally returned home and the garden was quiet and empty, Rosa made her way back across the lake to the carousel. It was so early in the morning that it was still dark, but the clockwork horses greeted her with enthusiasm, knowing that she would soon give them permission to venture onto the ice. The older the carousel got, the more the horses resembled real ones, longing for exercise. Rosa had taken to setting them loose each morning to stretch their legs and run.

They all seemed to enjoy this, but none more so than the horse with the golden ribbon. The creature was one of the most spectacular Rosa had ever made, and she felt a burst of pride now as she ran her hand down the horse’s neck. The steed whickered softly and poked its metallic muzzle into Rosa’s pockets, like a real horse searching for sugar lumps. It was still so hungry that Rosa was always catching it prodding at anything and everything in the garden, chewing on various plants expectantly before spitting them out. Whatever it was that it wanted to eat, it had not found it yet.

She ushered the horse from the carousel and it joined its siblings on the ice, painted silver by the ripe, fat moon above. After an hour or so, the horses returned to their carousel with an air of reluctance and Rosa said goodbye to them before returning to Raven Hall. It was still dark, so she lit a lamp and was making her way up the staircase when she suddenly became aware of a person standing before her about halfway up, deep in a pool of shadow, staring out of the window. She let out a yelp of surprise before realising it was Eustace.

‘What are you doing?’ she demanded. ‘You gave me a fright.’

Eustace said nothing, and did not acknowledge her presence at all. There was something strange and unnatural about the way he just stood there, alone in the dark. He wore only his nightshirt and his feet were bare. Rosa had no intention of touching him, but it was as crypt-cold as ever inside the house and she was certain his skin must be like ice. There was a marbled look about the back of his hands that reminded her of raw meat.

Suddenly uneasy, she looked around for her ravens and was reassured to see them lined up like sentries on the walnut bannisters, their red eyes staring out of the shadows, their cogs whirring and clicking as they kept all their attention fixed on Eustace.

‘How long have you been here?’ Rosa asked quietly.

This time he jumped at the sound of her voice, finally seeming to realise she was there.