The balcony level.
Sven: Are you sure we can’t get out? Isn’t this the kind of problem you folks have magic swords for?
Thorn: Considering how fast those plants have grown, I’m not sure we could cut them fast enough. And they might have poisons, allergens — we don’t know.
Sven: Well, we can’t just float down. The chair could hold either of my daughters, but all the adults are too big to go after them . . .
Ragnild: What are they saying?
Iona: Shh, I’m trying . . .
Sven: . . . wait, you might not be.
Thorn: Let’s test that when we’re not in an active crisis.