The Land of Roar

by Jenny McLachlan

  And that’s when I realise that this cave is a museum full of things that once belonged to me and Rose. I turn in a circle and the candle lights up curling stickers and animal rubbers, a lone Haribo, a book without a cover and a whole collection of sweet wrappers threaded on a piece of string. ‘Where did all this come from?’

  ‘All over Roar,’ says Win proudly. ‘I found most of it, but the unicorns brought things too. And look!’ He points to the wall and I lift the candle higher. Hoof prints cover the soft, sandy walls, hundreds of them, overlapping each other. Above the hoof prints, someone – Win, I’m guessing – has carved ‘ROSE AND ARTHUR, MASTERS OF ROAR’.

  ‘I made this when you didn’t come back. To begin with it was just for me, and to keep your things safe, but when things got bad the unicorns started to visit, and then the furries. It made us feel better . . . safer.’

  I pick up a Pokémon trading card. ‘Why did you want to show me this, Win?’

  ‘You need to know that you’re a Master of Roar, Arthur, just like Rose, and if anyone can defeat Crowky, it’s you.’

  I swallow, and put the Pokémon card back on its shelf. ‘You reckon?’

  ‘Absolutely. Now let’s go and sit by the fire, make some toast and come up with a super-stealthy plan to get your grandad back!’

  The next morning, after a quick breakfast of more toast and apples, Win and I stand outside the cave, ready to set off for the Crow’s Nest.

  The cool air wakes me up, which is good because I didn’t sleep well. All night I lay on the floor of the cave, tossing and turning in my sleeping bag and worrying about Grandad. I worried about Rose too. When she got back from town and realised I was gone she would have been scared. But I kept reminding myself that she could have come with me if she wanted to. In fact, she could be standing next to me right now as Win runs through the mission briefing.

  ‘Weapons?’ says Win, making sure his wakizashi is strapped to his back.

  ‘Check,’ I say. Win’s lent me a rucksack and I’ve put the most effective wooden sword I could find in it. I’d have taken his bokken too, but right now it’s lying at the bottom of the On-Off Waterfall.

  ‘Emergency supplies?’ says Win.

  ‘Check.’ Stuffed on top of the swords are a handful of apples.

  ‘First-aid kit?’

  ‘Check.’ I pat my pocket, which contains plasters and a bandage. I can also feel the map in there and that’s reassuring, like there’s some order to this strange world I’ve found myself in.

  Win fixes me with a look. ‘Relay the mission logistics, Arthur.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  He rolls his eyes. ‘Tell me what we’re going to do.’

  ‘Oh, right. We’re going to go to the Crow’s Nest, fight Crowky, then rescue my grandad.’ I try to make my voice sound confident. I badly want to believe that in a few hours’ time I’ll be bundling Grandad back into the tunnel and taking him home. But then, as I picture where we’re about to go – to a castle that sits on a rock, far out at sea – I remember the massive flaw in our plan. ‘Win, exactly how are we going to get to the Crow’s Nest?’

  Win’s eyes widen. ‘Let’s just say I’ve got a little surprise for you . . .’

  I slip my hand into my pocket and wrap it round Grandad’s inhaler. ‘I’m really not up for any surprises right now, Win.’

  ‘OK, OK . . . we’re going to get to the Crow’s Nest by going along the Magic Road !’

  ‘What magic road? I don’t remember any magic road in Roar.’

  ‘That’s because it’s new. It appeared a couple of weeks ago.’

  ‘Like magic?’ I suggest.

  ‘Exactly!’

  ‘So the only hope we’ve got of rescuing my grandad is if we use a magic road?’

  ‘Not any old magic road,’ says Win. ‘The Magic Road!’ Then he yanks down his ninja hood, cries, ‘This mission is GO!’, jumps on the nearest bike – the one that has functioning brakes, I notice – screams, and pedals into the forest. I have no choice but to pick up the other bike and follow him. I scream too. Only my scream isn’t a war cry, it’s one of terror because I’m cycling through a forest on a bike without brakes.

  ‘Watch out for the crack!’ Win calls over his shoulder.

  ‘What crack?’ I shout. Then I spot a jagged line cutting across the path in front of me and shoot straight over it.

  Win laughs. ‘That crack!’

  Despite all my worries, it’s impossible not to enjoy our bike ride through Roar. I’m with Win, the sun is shining and it’s hard to feel stressed when you’re on a bike. Plus I keep seeing incredible things that I’d forgotten existed, like monkeys that sleep in trees in tangled balls and long lines of spotted beetles and snails that hum as they move.

  Every now and then we pass another crack in the ground, just like the one I cycled over. I catch up with Win and ask him where they’ve come from.

  ‘It’s actually just one crack,’ he says. ‘It cuts right across Roar, from my cave to the Bottomless Ocean.’

  Before I can ask what he’s on about, he yells, ‘PEDAL POWER!’ and zooms ahead, weaving through an orchard of apple trees. I follow, my wheels crunching over apples and filling the air with the smell of butterscotch.

  As we’re coming out of the orchard I spot my first furry. It’s swinging on a branch like a hamster dangling from the bars of its cage. ‘Furry!’ I shout. Its bulgy eyes fix on me and it drops from the branch and starts flying around my face making a high-pitched whining sound. I have to stop pedalling – I can’t see a thing – and that’s when I realise the furry is talking to me.

  ‘ArthurArthurArthur!’ it’s saying over and over again. Then it wraps its tiny arms round my neck, gives me a furry squeeze, and zigzags off through the trees.

  ‘Come on,’ calls Win, ‘or we’ll miss the Magic Road!’

  We cycle through a valley, then cut across a meadow filled with enormous sunflowers. I’m so busy looking up at them that I almost crash into the back of Win. I slam my feet down and skid to a halt.

  ‘Why’ve you stopped?’ I say, but when I look over his shoulder I understand.

  Directly in front of us is a dark, gaping sinkhole. It’s so big Grandad’s house could disappear inside it. Win gets down on his hands and knees and peers over the edge. ‘You’ve got to look, Arthur . . . It’s the weirdest thing.’

  Cautiously I kneel next to him. Roots and stones stick out of the sinkhole’s crumbling sides, and there’s even a tree caught upside down between two rocks. I can’t see the bottom of the hole, just pitch-black nothing. I start to feel dizzy. I hate the idea of falling, and falling into this thing would be terrifying.

  ‘When did it appear?’ I say.

  ‘About a year after you left. I saw it happen. One minute there was a hill here, covered in trees and flowers and birds, and the next – BOOM! – everything was gone. Well, the birds were still there, hovering around in the dust and looking confused.’

  I stare into the darkness. ‘It looks deep.’

  ‘Yeah, I reckon it’s bottomless.’ To prove his point Win picks up a rock and throws it into the hole. We don’t hear it land. We just kneel there, listening, as cold, damp air washes over us. After a moment Win adds, ‘I think Crowky might chuck stuff down there.’

  Immediately I picture Grandad tumbling into the blackness. ‘What makes you say that?’

  Win shrugs, then gets to his feet. ‘Like I said, things have disappeared – the unicorns, some merfolk – and they started disappearing when these holes showed up.’

  I shiver. The sun is shining, but the chill of the sinkhole seems to have crept inside me. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ I say, picking up my bike.

  Keeping well away from the edge, we circle the sinkhole then cut across a field. It’s only when I’m pedalling hard, freewheeling through grass filled with yellow butterflies, that I manage to shake off the sinister feeling left by the sinkhole.  Rose, I think, as one of the butterflies sits on my hand before flying
away. Rose has always loved yellow.

  But as we cycle further across Roar the sunshine and butterflies disappear. The trees become taller and lose their leaves, grass is replaced by dust and clouds roll over the sun. After a while I realise I haven’t seen or heard a bird in ages. Except crows. They sit in the trees, watching us as we go past, cawing to each other.

  We stop for a rest at the edge of a forest. ‘Well, we’re definitely in the Bad Side,’ I say.

  Win nods and we take in the twisted limbs of trees and the spiders scurrying through dry leaves. The Bad Side was always full of things Rose and I were scared of. Which is why right now fluffy cats slink between the trees and silvery spiders’ webs cover the ground like a thick mat. The cats stare at us. Their eyes shining in the gloom.

  ‘I don’t like it,’ I say.

  ‘Neither do I.’ Win glances around uneasily. ‘We’re in Crowky territory here. We’d better put on some camouflage.’ He pulls a couple of purple and yellow felt-tip pens from his pocket and starts scribbling on his cheeks. ‘The first rule of being a ninja is to blend in to your background.’

  He hands me the pens and to keep him happy I draw a couple of lines on my forehead. ‘Win, our faces are purple and yellow. What background do you think we’re going to blend into?’

  ‘A stormy desert.’

  ‘But the Crow’s Nest is in the middle of the sea.’

  ‘Ah!’ Win holds up a finger. ‘The second rule of being a ninja is be prepared for any eventuality.’

  ‘Like the eventuality of the sea turning into a desert overnight?’

  ‘Exactly.’ Suddenly Win’s smile disappears and he grabs my arm. ‘Arthur, can you hear that?’

  At first all I can hear is a whining meow of a particularly fluffy white cat, but then I pick up on another sound, the distant thud, thud, thud of tramping feet. ‘What is it?’

  Win’s eyes are round with panic. ‘The scarecrow army! We’ve got to hide!’ He shoves his bike into the cobwebs and starts to climb the nearest tree. The bare branches are draped in more cobwebs and Win squeezes himself inside them. I go to follow him, but he pushes me back with his foot. ‘Find your own tree, Arthur. This one’s mine!’

  The marching footsteps get louder, and in a blind panic I run from tree to tree, but I can’t find any with a branch low enough for me to climb up.

  ‘Hide, Arthur!’ Win hisses.

  Between the trees I see movement – shadowy figures – and I throw myself face down on the ground and lie as still as possible. A fat tabby cat comes and sits next to me and flicks its tail in my face. Its deep purr vibrates through me. It was Rose who didn’t like fluffy cats after one bit her when we were playing in the alleyway behind our house. But the spiders were my thing.  Still are my thing, I think, as I’m forced to bury my face into their sticky webs.

  The marching feet come to a stop. I raise my head a fraction and see four scarecrows standing shoulder to shoulder staring into the trees. I freeze as their button eyes flick left and then right. They’re wearing a jumble of ragged clothes and straw pokes out of their loose seams. Their mouths are grim stitched lines.

  I shut my eyes and try to breathe as quietly as possible. Something small with lots of legs scurries over my cheek.

  Seconds, then minutes tick by. The cat sniffs my face. Then I hear Win drop down from the tree. Next thing I know he’s pulling me to my feet. He grins and his felt-tipped scribbles stretch across his face. ‘Good job we had our camouflage on!’ he says, brushing a spider off my shoulder.

  ‘Thanks for not letting me into your tree,’ I mutter. ‘They nearly saw me!’

  ‘Never share your tree, Arthur. That’s the third rule of being a ninja.’

  I shake my head as I reach for my bike. Then I see something that makes cold shock slam through my body. ‘Win,’ I whisper, ‘they’re still here !’

  The four scarecrows are standing at the edge of the forest. They have their backs to us and their arms are outstretched. I’m trying to decide if I should throw myself back down in the leaves or make a run for it when Win starts laughing. ‘They’re not really here,’ he says.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Come and see.’ Before I can stop him he walks towards the scarecrows. He doesn’t sneak from tree to tree or keep low to the ground. He just strides straight up to them bold as anything.

  I run to catch up with him. ‘Are you sure this is safe?’

  ‘Yes, look.’ He pulls me round in front of the scarecrows.

  It’s a chilling sight. They sway over us, their mismatched button eyes staring into the distance, their tangled straw hair blowing in the wind. Win stands close to one wearing a battered top hat. He waves his hand in front of its sack face. ‘Hello?’ he says. ‘Anybody in there?’ He turns to me and grins. ‘See? No one’s at home.’

  I step up to a scarecrow wearing a ragged robe. Tattered sleeves billow around stiff arms and stick fingers point to the sky.

  ‘So right now this is just a scarecrow?’ I say, amazed by how still the scarecrow is. ‘How does Crowky control them?’

  Win shrugs. ‘If he’s near them, he talks to them – it’s all caws and clicks – but I don’t know how he does it when he isn’t around. Remember Crowky is half crow and crows communicate in strange ways.’

  And they are clever, I think as I study the scarecrows in front of me. Somehow Crowky worked out how to make these things and bring them to life.

  Automatically I look at the scarecrow’s button eyes. Suddenly they seem less dull. I might be imagining it, but have they narrowed slightly? I hear a tiny scraping sound and my eyes shoot towards the scarecrow’s stick fingers. They’re not outstretched any more, but curled at the tips, as if they’re about to ball into fists.

  ‘Probably the wind did that . . .’ says Win.

  ‘Probably.’

  Win’s eyes slide towards me. ‘Shall we crack on?’

  ‘Yep,’ I say, then the two of us start walking towards the forest. Without warning a group of crows burst from a tree and rise up in the air. I didn’t even realise they were sitting there.

  Win and I speed up, breaking into a run the second our feet hit the dead leaves. We grab our bikes, jump on and start pedalling. Spiders skitter out of our way and cats dash in front of our path, but we don’t slow down.

  The rasping cry of the crows follows us as we hurtle through the forest, desperate to get as far away from those button eyes as possible.

  We stay in the shadows of the forest until we reach a path that winds up into the mountains. We climb higher and higher until there isn’t a bird or blade of grass in sight, just stones and rocks and volcanic dust that gets into my eyes and throat. When I feel like my lungs might burst I stop to catch my breath and check the map.

  There’s not far to go. The Crow’s Nest is just ahead of us, beyond the next mountain, where the cliffs meet the sea. I push off and peddle hard after Win, trying to ignore the pain in my legs. Seeing those scarecrows has frightened me. Is that what Grandad is like right now? Cold and trapped and staring into space?

  Up ahead Win disappears round a bend and I follow. ‘Win!’ I shout. ‘When you get stuffed, how long have you got?’

  ‘Before you turn into a scarecrow for good? We never knew for sure, but Rose said it was to do with how old you were. You’re eleven, so you’d have eleven hours.’

  I almost smile. That’s just the sort of bizarre rule Rose or I would have made up, but if Win is right, at least that gives us seventy-two hours to get to Grandad . . . No, less than that by now. The thought makes me pedal with a renewed energy, forcing my way up the hill.

  When my heart is racing and I don’t think I can go any further the path levels out and we start to go downhill.

  ‘Look, there’s the crack,’ says Win.

  The crack in the earth now runs alongside the path. Mist rolls down from the mountaintop, and we follow the crack as it leads towards the sound of thundering waves. When I can taste the salty tang of the sea,
I know we’re getting close. Win hits the brakes and I skid to a stop behind him. ‘We’re here!’ he shouts.

  We’ve come out on a rocky cliff. Mist swirls around us and the wind is so powerful I have to hold on tight to the handlebars of my bike. The Bottomless Ocean lies in front of us, its waves pounding at the base of the cliff. The mist thins and, far across the sea, I see a monstrous shape rising out of the water.

  ‘The Crow’s Nest,’ I whisper.

  Win puts a hand on my shoulder. ‘We’re nearly there, mate.’

  Crowky’s castle clings to a rock and looks impossibly tall. It has four towers that twist like blackened branches towards the sky, and each tower is topped by a jumble of twigs that look like giant rooks’ nests. Round windows puncture the walls, light flickering behind them. Even though the sea separates us, I still feel like the windows are blinking eyes, watching me.

  I swallow. ‘It’s a bit . . . bigger than I remember . . .’ Suddenly, more than anything, I wish that Rose was standing next to me. I could do with some of her fearlessness right now. ‘So where’s this Magic Road?’

  Win sits down and points at the sea. ‘Keep watching and you’ll see it. It’s magic, remember?’

  I sit next to him. ‘Yeah, you keep saying.’

  ‘Magic,’ Win whispers, ‘like me!’ Then he points his wand, cries, ‘Plump bubble!’ and a small balloon appears in the air. It deflates with a sad squeal, disappearing over the edge of the cliff. He turns to me with an awestruck look. ‘I’ve never magicked up a balloon before!’

  ‘I liked it,’ I say, then we go back to staring at the sea.

  The Bottomless Ocean is wild here. Waves smash against each other and the wind flies over the surface of the sea with a mournful wail. I can see the jagged mountain peaks of The End far away in the distance. Sitting here with Win, I feel like I’m at the very edge of the world. No. I feel like I’m at the very edge of something far stranger than the world. This is a good feeling because it makes me think anything could happen now . . . A Magic Road could even appear that will lead us all the way to the Crow’s Nest.