It's working. She knows it's working, and she feel a sort of… easing, of the pressure above her. Magic, yes, that's what she's doing. Working magic. Her fingers curl as if she's gripping onto a curtain, some last barely-tangible barrier between where she is and where she wants to be.

When Daniel says 'garden air,' she yanks.

The weight of the tower falls away, and bright sunlight lands on Melanie's face. She loosens her hands and cracks open first one eye, then the other, a grin tugging at her lips.

She's sitting on a stone bench, now, and there's a wide blue sky above her, framed by the walls of the secret garden. The flowers are all in full display, and there's birdsong and the faint hum of insects in the air. Melanie stands up on the bench, moving aside a low-hanging branch of wisteria so she can get a better look at the place. It's so beautiful! Whether it's strictly accurate is another matter - some of the plants that Melanie's imagination provided would definitely be more at home in a rainforest than an English garden - but it's a far sight better than the place they left behind.

"We did it!" she exclaims, hopping down off the bench.