The Land of Roar

by Jenny McLachlan

  Now I’m in Roar I can easily remember what furries are: they’re tiny furry fairies, basically mice with wings . . . but with human faces. ‘The furries have been eaten ? Who’d want to eat furries?’

  ‘Crowky, and he doesn’t do it because they taste nice; he does it for fun. Crowky’s changed lots, Arthur. He’s gone nuts !’

  I grip the net. ‘That’s why I’m here. I think my grandad is in Roar. I think Crowky has taken him!’

  I’m half expecting Win to laugh or tell me I’m talking rubbish. After all, it was only ever me and Rose who visited Roar. But instead he just nods and says, ‘Yep. Crowky’s got your grandad.’

  ‘What ?’ I twist and turn, desperate to escape. ‘How do you know?’

  ‘He’s been sniffing around the waterfall loads recently and going in and out of the tunnel.’ Win tugs on the ropes of the net. ‘That’s why I set this up: to catch him. When I turned up earlier there were feathers and bits of straw all over the place. It looked like there’d been a pretty serious fight.’

  I think back to the feathers and straw I found in the camp bed, and the sounds I heard last night. If Crowky was in the tunnel, maybe he managed to grab hold of Grandad and drag him into Roar. That would explain why it felt like Grandad was yanked out of my hands.

  ‘Oh, and I found this in the mud.’ Win pulls an object out from his robes and holds it in front of my face. I recognise the blue plastic tube immediately: it’s Grandad’s asthma inhaler.

  I push at the net as hard as I can. ‘That’s medicine and it belongs to my grandad. He’s got allergies. Feathers make him really wheezy and Crowky’s got those enormous wings. Win, we’ve got to get that inhaler to Grandad right now!’

  Win looks incredulous. ‘Mate, if Crowky’s got your grandad – and I’m almost certain he has – then feathers are not the issue. Crowky’s probably stuffed him by now!’

  ‘Stuffed him?’ The words have a familiar ring to them. ‘Win . . . What do you mean?’

  ‘You know, stuffed, what Crowky does when he catches someone – first he squeezes them and drains all the life out of them, and if he clings on for long enough they turn into a scarecrow.’

  I nod and a horrible memory comes back to me of Crowky wrapping his arms round me and refusing to let go, and how I felt weaker and weaker and weaker, until Rose leaped on his back and I managed to escape. But Grandad wouldn’t have had anyone to leap on his back . . . ‘Win, if Crowky drains you completely and stuffs you, you can get better, right?’

  Win nods. ‘Mitch told me that the touch of a friend can bring you back, if they can get to you in time. I’ve never actually seen it happen, but Mitch is usually right about stuff.’

  ‘And if a friend doesn’t get to you in time?’

  Win shrugs. ‘You’re a scarecrow for life.’

  Right now I feel so weak I can barely push the net away from my face. Draining . . . stuffing . . . these are all things Rose and I would have made up in a game, for fun, to drive each other mad, and Crowky’s gone and done it to Grandad. ‘Please, Win,’ I say. ‘You’ve got to get me out of here.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Arthur.’ He reaches behind his back and unsheathes a lethal-looking sword. ‘Me and my wakizashi have got this covered.’ Then he pulls back his arm, preparing to strike.

  I eye the glittering blade. ‘That doesn’t look like it’s made out of a ruler.’

  ‘Nah, mate.’ Win narrows his eyes and takes aim. ‘My wakizashi is a step up from my bokken. It’s made from triple-folded nymph steel. It can cut through granite . . . and bone.’ Then he swings the sword through the air and slices through the rope.

  This time I hit the pool like a cannonball because a surprisingly heavy boy – half wizard, half ninja – is sitting on my head. And the water doesn’t just go up my nose, it also goes into my eyeballs and enters my brain . . . I think . . . because suddenly . . . everything has gone . . . very . . . very . . . cold . . . and . . . black.

  I come round in a shadowy place that smells of bonfires and popcorn.

  I’m slumped on a beanbag and Win is sitting next to me playing a one-man game of Hungry Hippos. For a moment I just stare as Win’s hands fly around and the hippos gobble up little white balls. I squeeze my eyes shut, then open them again. Win’s hands are still flying around and the hippos are still gobbling.

  If crawling through the camp bed and into Roar was a dream, then I should have woken up back in the attic. But I’m not in the attic. I’m in a cave that’s messy with dropped clothes and abandoned toys and comics. Ninja robes hang from a jutting rock and a strange collection of weapons are stashed in a leather trunk.

  Win sees that my eyes are open and immediately leans over and starts thumping my chest. ‘Breathe, Arthur, breathe !’

  ‘I can’t . . . you’re . . . punching . . . me.’

  ‘Oh, sorry. I thought you might be dead.’

  I’m too dazed to ask why he was playing Hungry Hippos if he thought I was dead. Instead I let my eyes wander around the cave, taking in Win’s hammock, his shoebox of apples and the glow of a fire burning just outside. I vaguely remember that Win always kept a fire going there, ready for toasting marshmallows or making toast.

  My memories of Win’s cave become more solid until I’m sure that if I turn my head I will see a stash of firewood and a cauldron sitting high on a shelf. I look to the left, and there they are, a pyramid of logs and a rusty cauldron, just where I knew they would be.

  One thing I know for certain: I’ve been here before.

  Win gives me a shake. ‘Hey, Arthur, you’ve only been back an hour and look how much fun we’re having. First, you got trapped in that net –’

  ‘By you.’

  ‘Right. Then you fell in that pool and nearly drowned!’

  ‘Because of you.’

  ‘You’re welcome. And now I’ve saved your life!’ He throws his arms round me and gives me a big hug. ‘It’s so good to have you back, Arthur.’ He squeezes me tight. ‘Roar needs its masters, and seeing as Rose isn’t here we’ll have to make do with you.’

  I open my mouth to complain about this, but already Win’s dropped me back on the beanbag and jumped to his feet. He darts around the cave practising ninja moves. ‘Leaping tiger kick!’ he shouts, knocking over a pile of comics. ‘Iron fist punch!’ He spins round and delivers a deadly blow to a pillow. Then he whips out his wand and moves on to spells. ‘Belly wham!’ he cries, and the pillow bursts open in an explosion of feathers and blue smoke. ‘Cheese storm!’ Green stars shoot from Win’s wand and the comics flutter up into the air then scatter across the floor.

  ‘Oh . . .’ Win takes in his trashed cave. ‘I was trying to tidy up.’

  ‘Still working on the magic?’ I say.

  He frowns at his wand. ‘Yep.’ Just then I spot Grandad’s asthma inhaler poking out of his pocket and my head clears enough to remember why I’m here. I stagger to my feet. ‘I’ve got to get to Grandad,’ I say, but before I’ve taken a step my legs buckle under me and I crash back down.

  Win throws me an apple. ‘Eat this. It will build up your energy.’ Obediently I bite into the apple. It’s sweet and tastes of butterscotch jelly beans – nothing like normal apples – and after a few bites I’m able to stand up. Clinging to the bumpy wall, I make my way towards the entrance of the cave, determined to find Grandad.

  Win trots along by my side. ‘Were you surprised when you saw me in the attic, Arthur?’

  ‘Very,’ I say, pausing while a wave of dizziness washes over me. ‘How did you do it?’

  ‘I’m not sure, but I reckon it had something to do with this.’ He reaches inside his robes and pulls out a golden chain. Hanging from the chain is a lime-green fidget spinner. ‘Behold: the Relic of Arthur!’ He touches it with a finger, making it spin. ‘Isn’t it beautiful?’

  I stare at the fidget spinner, which I’m fairly certain I found in a bin at the park. ‘I don’t know if I’d call it beautiful . . .’

  ‘You’re right. I
t’s miraculous because I’ve been visiting that tunnel for months, trying to get to Home, and the first time I wore this it took me straight to you. Can you imagine what would happen if Crowky got hold of it? He’d be visiting Home every day!’

  Win’s words are enough to get me moving again. At the mouth of the cave I see a network of paths leading off into a forest.

  I don’t bother asking Win which way to go, he was always getting us lost. Instead I reach for the map, and that’s when I remember it flying out of my hands by the waterfall. I groan.

  ‘What’s up?’ says Win.

  ‘I had this map of Roar, but I lost it!’

  Win’s eyes light up and he pulls out his wand. ‘Salty grin!’ he cries and thick yellow smoke fills the air.

  I cough and squeeze my eyes shut, and when I open them again Win is holding the map in his hands.

  I laugh in amazement. ‘Win . . . that was really good magic!’

  He shrugs. ‘Actually the map was in my pocket. I found it by the pool when I pulled you out.’

  ‘So . . . why did you do the spell?’

  He grins sheepishly. ‘Just wanted to know what it felt like to do an awesome spell.’

  I’m not sure Win understands just how urgent this situation is, but at least I’ve got the map and can get my head round where I’ve got to go. I open it and find the Crow’s Nest. The castle is stuck out at sea surrounded by huge waves. I have no memory of being inside it, and suddenly I realise why. ‘We never got there, did we?’

  Win shakes his head. ‘We tried, but the sea there is so wild that only the Raven can reach the Crow’s Nest. Any other boat would be smashed to pieces.’

  I stare at the crooked towers on the castle. At Crowky’s grinning face. ‘Win, if that’s where Grandad’s been taken then I’ve got to get in there!’

  ‘It’s OK. I know a secret way. It’s the scarecrow army you should be worrying about. Crowky’s got loads of them guarding the Crow’s Nest.’

  ‘The scarecrow army . . . What’s that?’

  ‘What do you think? An army of scarecrows! Crowky started making them after you left. They’re like violent scarecrow zombies and I reckon Crowky controls them with his mind.’

  I stuff the map in my pocket and stagger towards the trees. ‘Win, don’t say another word. Let’s just go and get Grandad before anything bad happens to him.’

  I’m about to step into the forest when Win yells, ‘Surprise hand grab!’ and yanks me back. He looks nervous. ‘We can’t go now, Arthur. It’s almost night-time.’

  ‘But you’re half ninja. I thought ninjas loved creeping around in the dark.’

  ‘Darkness is my friend and I can melt into it, but it’s also when the scarecrow army go on the rampage. In fact –’ his eyes flick out into the gloomy forest and he drops his voice to a whisper – ‘they’re probably out there right now, listening to us! It’s at night that they cause most of their mayhem.’

  ‘What sort of mayhem? Do they go round breaking stuff ?’

  Win shakes his head violently. ‘No! They go round eating stuff.’

  And that’s when a twig snaps somewhere in the trees.

  I shuffle closer to Win. ‘Did you hear that? It was probably a rabbit, right? There were always loads of rabbits in Roar.’

  ‘Not since the scarecrows started catching them to make into hats.’

  ‘What? ’

  ‘I keep trying to tell you, Arthur, a lot has changed in Roar.’ He takes a step back from the forest. ‘There’s one more thing you should know about Crowky’s scarecrow army . . .’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘They’re excellent at standing still.’

  The dark forest stretches out in front of us. ‘What, like standing still between trees?’

  ‘Especially between trees.’

  Suddenly Win lets go of me, takes a step forward and cries out, ‘Arthur Trout, Master of Roar, is back, you bunch of dingly-dangly idiots, and he’s going to rip your straw-stuffed heads from your bodies and shove them where the sun don’t shine, so COME AND GET IT!’

  ‘LATER! ’ I shout. ‘I’ll do all that later!’

  But already something is stepping out of the trees, something that is big and dark and has spectacularly sparkly teeth.

  I gasp, my heart pounding. ‘Prosecco? ’

  The mighty stallion stalks towards me. He has nostrils like buckets and his muscles are gigantic and rippling. He looks absolutely nothing like the rocking horse in the attic.

  He stomps around, trampling through the glowing coals of the fire and lowering his head to peer into the cave. He seems to be looking for something. Suddenly he turns and clip-clops his way back to me, only it’s more CLIP! CLOP! CLIP! and sparks explode where his hooves strike the ground.

  ‘Er . . . I might make us some toast,’ says Win, edging away.

  ‘Win, don’t go. Prosecco hates me!’

  ‘Not as much as he hates me,’ he says, and he slips into the cave.

  Prosecco stares at me and tosses his mane.

  ‘Really?’ I dare to look him in the eye. ‘You hate Win more than you hate me?’ Somehow, by raising his shoulders and narrowing his eyes, Prosecco manages to imply only just. Then he steps towards me, forcing me backwards until I’m pushed up against the rock face. He lifts up one hoof and presses it into my chest.

  ‘What’s the matter, Prosecco? Are you angry with me? I was never really going to throw you out of the attic window . . . Or are you annoyed because Rose isn’t here?’

  His big head rises then falls. He’s nodding.

  ‘You are? Well, don’t blame me! Rose could have come, but she chose to go to Claire’s instead!’ I’m gibbering now, but I can’t help it. I get the feeling that if Prosecco wanted to he could push his hoof straight through me like a skewer in a kebab. He bares his dazzling teeth. ‘What do you want?!’ I cry.

  He steps back and starts pawing the ground and tossing his mane from side to side. He rears up until he’s towering over me, then crashes back down. His tail whips round and a few strands of hair catch my arm. Pain shoots through me. It’s like thousands of needles jabbing into me . . . or being stung by bees.

  As I clutch my arm I realise that Rose made this happen. Prosecco’s tail never used to sting, but just by saying some words in the attic yesterday, Rose changed something in Roar.

  Win edges out of the cave. ‘Arthur, what’ve you done to him? Why’s he so angry?’

  ‘I’ve not done anything! He wants Rose.’

  I look into Prosecco’s wild eyes. ‘She’s not in Roar. She’s at home, where we come from, and she might be freaking out a bit right now, but she’s totally safe, trust me.’ Prosecco thinks for a moment – I know he’s thinking because his glittery eyeballs have become narrow slits – then he nods, showing he’s accepted what I’ve said. After one last glower he turns to leave.

  ‘Don’t go.’ I run forward. ‘Our grandad is in Roar and Crowky’s got him at the Crow’s Nest. Can you help us get there? Give us a lift or something?’

  Prosecco flashes me a disgusted look, then rears up on his hind legs and leaps into the forest.

  ‘That horse has got melting into darkness nailed,’ says Win as Prosecco and his thundering hooves vanish into the night. ‘Don’t worry, mate. Tomorrow, when the scarecrow army are nice and quiet, we’ll find your grandad and get him back. We don’t need that great big horse to help us.’

  I’m not just worried; I’m scared too. I don’t remember feeling like this when we used to play Roar. If we felt fear, it was the exciting, fun type, like when you go on a rollercoaster or listen to a ghost story. I put my hand to my chest. It aches from where Prosecco pressed his hoof into me and I can feel my heart thudding. There is nothing fun about what I’m feeling right now. ‘We can do this, can’t we, Win?’ I look at him for reassurance. ‘We can go to the Crow’s Nest, get past Crowky and save my grandad?’

  I’m expecting Win to say, ‘Course we can!’ but for a moment he jus
t stands there thinking.

  ‘I wasn’t joking when I said Crowky had changed,’ he says. ‘He was always mean, but now he’s vicious, and with his army he’s powerful too. It feels like he’s everywhere.’ Win’s eyes flick back to the forest. ‘He used to have a few scarecrows working for him – things that got stuffed and stayed stuffed, a couple of unicorns, a mermaid – but now he’s made his army I’m always waiting, wondering what he’s going to do next. He’s taking over Roar.’ He looks at me and grins. ‘But now you’re back, Arthur, and I know you can sort Crowky out, just like you used to!’

  Win isn’t making me feel any better. In fact, I feel sick with worry. ‘We need Rose. She always came up with our plans to get Crowky, and she was never scared of him.’ Unlike me.

  ‘Well, Rose isn’t here, but we have got you.’ He pulls my arm. ‘Come on. I want to show you something.’

  We go along a path that skirts the edge of the forest. All the time Win keeps glancing into the trees, pausing every few steps to listen. Soon we come to a cave and Win lights a candle. He passes it to me and whispers, ‘Go on. See what’s inside.’

  Holding the flickering candle up high, I walk deeper into the cave, then I stop and look around.

  At first I don’t understand what I’m seeing. The cave is full of objects arranged on rocky shelves. I step closer. A butterfly hair clip sits next to an empty Hula Hoops packet. A scrap of paper with a game of hangman drawn on it is arranged on a ledge next to a single welly with a hat propped on top. A Batman key ring (missing one leg) dangles from a nail, and at the back of the cave I find a carefully folded T-shirt and a metal pot of green putty.

  The putty is set on its own ledge with an upturned plastic cup acting as a stand. ‘After the Relic of Arthur, that’s my favourite thing,’ whispers Win. ‘You left it behind four years ago, just after your birthday.’