Rosa lingered alone outside, and the clocks had just chimed once for one o’clock when she spotted a white frog upon the path in front of her. It stood out, not only because there were no real animals in Rosa’s garden, but also because of the fact that it wore a shining golden crown upon its head. It stared right up at her before turning and hopping away down the path, towards the dark walk.

Rosa hurried after it into the darkness of the Scots pines. As she followed the path, something began to change. The trees lengthened and became spindlier until they were no longer pines at all, but some other tree that Rosa didn’t recognise. Certainly she could not recall ever having seen trees like this in the grounds of Raven Hall.

And then Rosa saw tracks in the snow up ahead and stopped. They were like cat’s paw prints, only far larger than those of any cats that might live in England. These looked big enough to belong to a leopard or a panther – or perhaps a tiger. The trees around her were hung with sugar mice and glass angels and white spiders spinning golden webs. Rosa realised she was no longer in her own garden at all. Everything around her was painted powder-blue in the light from the fat moon overhead and there was a gate covered in dozens of keys emerging on the path before her.

Excitement thrummed in her chest. Could this mean …? Might she actually have won …? She hastened after the frog, through the gate and, gradually, a familiar tune drifted to her through the trees. It was, unmistakeably, the melody from her carousel. The next moment she followed the frog from the trees and there it was. The Carousel of Icicles stood before her in the middle of a clearing, revolving slowly as it sparkled in the moonlight. Rosa hurried towards it so quickly that she did not even see the little crooked well that she passed at the edge of the trees.

She had left her carousel in the grounds of Raven Hall, and yet somehow here it was. Her own sign stood in front of it, explaining what the carousel could do, with the updated information about the horse with the golden ribbon. And, immediately below, was a new plaque that read: The Carousel of Icicles – Winner of First Place.

Rosa stared until the words made her eyes ache. Had she really done it? She looked up and stared around the clearing, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Spider Queen in her cobwebbed gown, coming to present her with her prize. But there was no one. Even the frog had vanished. It was just Rosa and the carousel. She closed her eyes tightly for a moment. The magic garden was real. That surely must mean that wishes were too:

I wish for Ada back.

I wish for Ada back.

I wish for Ada back.