‘Look!’ Rose points to a dark gap between the trees almost hidden by trailing leaves. The river seems to disappear into it, and at the last possible moment the merboy lets go of the rope and shoves us towards the gap. Then, with a wave of his hand, and my watch and my socks, he gets ready to swim away.
‘Wait!’ I shout, suddenly realising that the fidget spinner might not be the only thing that lets people get out of Roar. ‘I’m sorry, but I really need my stuff back. It’s an emergency!’
The merboy scowls and thrashes his tail from side to side, but a second later my wet socks fly through the air, hitting me in the face, followed by my watch.
The merboy vanishes below the surface of the water and I take one last look at bright blue sky. Then the boat drifts inside the Tangled Forest and darkness wraps around us.
We float into a strange, shadowy place. Creepers and vines twist between the trees like vast webs, and glowing buds blink in the darkness. Leaves seem to tremble for no reason and a curious oozing, dripping sound fills the air along with the clicks of hidden insects.
‘This place is creepy,’ whispers Rose.
‘I like it,’ I say.
I might hate heights, but the dark doesn’t bother me at all. It’s still in here and peaceful, a bit like a cathedral lit by flickering candles. Caught on some invisible current, Mitch’s little boat carries us deeper and deeper into the forest.
Eventually the river disappears between the roots of an immense tree and we can’t go any further. ‘We have to walk now,’ says Win.
We climb out of the boat and scramble up the bank.
The height of the trees makes me dizzy, and when I look up I can only see the tiniest pinpricks of light breaking through the leaves. Down on the dark forest floor paths criss-cross each other and the glowing buds stretch into the distance. Suddenly I realise how hard it’s going to be to find the Lost Girls. I feel like we’re moving away from Grandad and the Crow’s Nest, not closer.
‘This place is massive,’ I say. ‘How do we even know which path to take? We could be searching for the Lost Girls for days!’
Win strides towards a narrow track. ‘It’s this way!’
‘How do you know?’ says Rose.
‘Because I read the sign.’ He pushes back a vine and we see a wooden sign nailed to a tree. ‘THE LOST GIRLS’ is painted on it in wobbling brushstrokes along with an arrow. ‘And look, there’s another one!’ He points to a tree further along the path.
‘Then I suppose we follow the signs,’ says Rose, and although this seems suspiciously easy to me we all head off along the path.
As we walk further into the forest Win practises his stealth walk. This involves him trotting from tree to tree on tiptoe. Every now and then he says, ‘Can you see me?’ and we look up to see him standing very still in front of a tree with his hands in front of his face.
‘Yes,’ says Rose each time.
‘Not really,’ I say to make him feel better.
Soon we’re hot and sweaty and the Lost Girls’ signs have become much harder to follow. Vines twist in ever thicker tangles between the trees and we’re reduced to climbing over and under things to keep going. And the signs pop up in the strangest of places: at the top of a tree, in the middle of a hollow log. We even find one submerged in a murky pond.
As we wade through the water it’s hard to shake the feeling that the Lost Girls are playing an elaborate trick on us.
Eventually we get to a sign that suggests we have to go through the middle of some brambles.
‘No way,’ says Rose. ‘I’m not doing it.’
Win examines the bush before dropping down on his stomach and wriggling underneath it. ‘Hurry up,’ he calls from the other side. ‘You’ve got to see this!’
I go next, and when I pull myself out Win is already halfway across a rope bridge that stretches across a ravine. The bridge is long, droops down in the middle and is made up of battered planks of wood tied together with fraying rope.
Before I follow Win, I peer down into the ravine. Below I see the river with the rainbow shine that runs through Roar. Lime-green crystals cover the riverbed, making the water glow in the darkness of the forest. Chunks of crystal stick out like jagged teeth with water foaming and crashing around them. I pull out the map and see that the river cuts through the middle of the Tangled Forest and leads directly into the Bad Side.
‘Come on, Arthur!’ calls Win, deliberately wobbling the bridge. ‘This is fun!’
The moment my feet make contact with the planks the bridge starts to swing even more wildly from side to side. I hold on tight to the handrails. ‘This thing does not feel safe!’
‘It’s fine,’ says Win, and he jumps up and down to prove his point.
Just then Rose scrambles out from under the bush and joins us on the bridge. We start to walk along in a straggling line.
‘One thing I don’t get,’ I say, trying to ignore the alarming gaps between each plank, ‘is the signs. The Lost Girls are into hiding, right?’
‘They’re a guerrilla unit,’ says Rose. ‘They train in secret, then commit daring ambushes and raids.’ She almost sounds excited as she says this. Rose loved the Lost Girls and was always trying to persuade me to go looking for them.
‘But that’s what I mean: guerrilla units hide out and the Lost Girls have retreated deep into this forest, so I guess they don’t want to be found.’
‘What’s your point?’ says Rose.
‘My point is why would they put up loads of signs telling us how to find them? Don’t you think this could be a trap?’
Up ahead Win stops walking. ‘That is a very good point, Arthur.’
And at that moment a shrill giggle makes us turn round.
Standing at the start of the bridge is a little girl. She looks young, about six years old, and she has bare feet and is wearing a yellow T-shirt and shorts. She stands there staring at us and sucking at the end of her plait.
‘Hello,’ says Rose, breaking the silence.
The girl smiles shyly.
‘Is she a Lost Girl?’ I ask Win.
He shrugs. ‘I don’t know . . . she looks a bit clean.’
‘Maybe she’s lost her way in the forest,’ says Rose, then she calls back to the girl, ‘Do you want to come with us? Do you want us to take you home?’
But the girl’s not listening. She’s taken something out of her pocket and is busy fiddling about with the ropes of the bridge.
‘What’s she doing?’ asks Win.
I shade my eyes from the sun, but the girl is standing in the shadows of the trees and it’s hard to see what she’s up to.
‘She’s got something in her hand,’ says Rose. ‘I think it’s a . . . penknife !’
That’s when I see the blade glinting in the sun and realise Rose is right. The girl’s got a knife and she’s calmly using it to saw at the ropes of the bridge!
Suddenly one of the handrails droops. ‘Run!’ cries Rose. ‘RUN!’
We turn and start running, heading for safety on the other side of the bridge. But the girl’s knife must be sharp, and she must be stronger than she looks, because first one handrail goes slack, and then the other. They slip from my hands and I fall to my knees and grab hold of a plank. Below me water tumbles over the rocks. I can’t crawl. I can’t move at all. The bridge is wobbling too much.
‘HOLD ON!’ screams Rose, and that’s when I feel the bridge collapse beneath me.
I wrap my arms even tighter round the plank as we hurtle towards the side of the ravine. I brace myself just in time, then we slam into rock and thick trailing plants. Twigs scratch my face and my knuckles are bashed, but somehow I cling on as the bridge bounces once, twice, then comes to a stop.
I’m frozen with shock, my whole body trembling, but I manage to get my feet up on to a plank. Up above, I see Win do the same, scrabbling to find a footing. The bridge is resting against the side of the ravine and has become a ladder – a dangly, unstable, terrifying ladder. Then I rem
ember Rose.
I look down and see that she must have slipped when we hit the wall of the ravine. She’s hanging off the very end of the bridge with one arm hooked round a plank and her legs swinging in thin air.
I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out.
Rose looks up at me with wide eyes.
‘MASSIVE HEAD RUSH!’ shouts Win, and his laughter echoes across the ravine.
Rose just hangs there, hugging her plank. ‘I think I’m going to puke,’ she calls up to us, ‘or fall, but I don’t know which I’m going to do first.’
I swallow. ‘Just . . . hang on,’ I say. For someone who’s afraid of heights, dangling over a ravine is about the worst thing that can happen. A cold lump of fear has formed inside me, and right now I can’t think about helping Rose. The only thing I can do is concentrate on not freaking out. The bridge creaks, and dust and stones fall down on us.
Rose yelps and I shut my eyes and wait for the rocks to stop falling. When I open them again I look back across the ravine.
The sweet little girl who just tried to kill us gives me a wave, then vanishes into the forest.
‘Now don’t panic . . .’ says Win, his voice echoing down to us, ‘but it looks like the ropes holding up the bridge might snap at any moment!’
I panic big time. Waves of fear run through my body, from my scalp to my toes.
‘I mean, I don’t know for certain . . .’ he continues, ‘but they look a bit . . . breaky.’
I force myself to breathe in slowly through my nose, then blow out through my mouth. Mum taught me to do this whenever I feel anxious, although I think she was imagining I’d use it in situations like losing my water bottle or forgetting my homework, rather than dangling over a ravine.
Amazingly Mum’s breathing technique actually works, so I do it again and again until I’m able to look down at Rose and give her a reassuring smile.
I don’t get one back.
‘I’ve got an idea,’ Win shouts.
He sounds so confident that a glimmer of hope creeps into me. ‘What is it?’
‘There’s a chance I can use my magic to mend the bridge, but I’ll need some extra energy to do it. I need you two to say: We believe in Win-magic.’
‘Really?’ I look up. ‘We just have to say those words?’
‘Yep.’
Quickly I call out, ‘We believe in Win-magic!’
‘You too, Rose,’ says Win.
‘We believe in Win-magic!’ Her voice sounds faint.
Win pulls out his wand and I grip the ropes tighter, preparing for an explosion or a giant puff of smoke . . . but nothing happens. ‘Sorry,’ says Win. ‘I think the magic will only work if you say it together with enthusiasm.’
‘WE BELIEVE IN WIN-MAGIC!’ we both yell, making the bridge tremble and more dust fall on us.
When the dust settles and the bridge is still again I notice two things: we are still hanging over the ravine and Win is chuckling. ‘Gotcha!’
‘What?’ I shout. ‘What?! ’
‘It was a joke,’ he says, still laughing. ‘No way is my magic good enough to mend a bridge!’
‘Right,’ I say, trying and failing to control my voice. ‘We’ve just wasted possibly the last minutes of our lives on Win’s joke. Now what? How do we get off this bridge alive?’
‘Arthur,’ Rose calls, ‘you’re always making stuff up. You’ve got a telescope. You think of something!’
‘Are you ever going to stop going on about the telescope?’
‘Look, I’m not sure how much longer I can do this. I’m kind of counting on you, Arthur.’
I hear the fear in her voice and I understand what she’s saying. Win is incapable of taking anything seriously, and a bit incapable generally, and Rose is putting all her energy into holding on. This is all up to me. So I think. I think in a random way about weights and forces and pendulums, until I come up with something that’s fractionally better than nothing.
‘We need to climb up one at a time. If we go together, then the bridge will swing around and the ropes might snap. When Win gets to the top there will be less weight and he can hold the bridge steady while I climb. Then we both hold it still for you, Rose.’
‘Good plan,’ she says, and amazingly she isn’t being sarcastic. ‘Go on, Win, but go slowly.’
‘I have been training for this for years,’ he says, and then he starts to climb the broken bridge, muttering, ‘Creepy, creepy, slowly, slowly! ’
The bridge wobbles, and I hold my breath until Win shouts down, ‘I’ve done it. I’m off the bridge! But you need to hurry up, Arthur. The ropes do not look good!’
His words fill me with adrenalin and I’m suddenly so pumped I reckon I could get up and off this bridge in seconds. But then I remember Rose. When I look down I see that she has a look of grim determination on her face and she’s trying to pull her feet up on to a plank . . . but she can’t do it. The gaps between the planks are too big. She can’t reach. Soon her arms are wobbling and her fingers are white from the pressure of holding on. How is she going to climb up the bridge if she can’t pull herself up?
I start to climb – only instead of going up, I go down.
‘Arthur, what are you doing?’ yells Win.
I don’t reply. I keep my eyes focused on Rose and try to turn the rapids below us into a blur.
Rose stares back up at me. ‘If you’re trying to be some sort of hero, Arthur, don’t bother, because you’re literally the least heroic person I know . . .’
But I know my sister. She hates admitting that she needs or wants my help, so I keep going until I’m close enough to reach out my hand. ‘Take it,’ I say.
After a moment’s hesitation she reaches up and grabs hold of it. Keeping my free arm wrapped round a plank, I pull as hard as I can. I can’t help thinking of all the times Rose has beaten me in arm wrestles. Maybe she’s been training me up for this moment. Just when it feels like my arm might snap Rose lunges forward, gets her fingers round a higher plank and swings her feet on to the bottom rung of the bridge.
For a moment the two of us cling to the bridge as it sways. My arm throbs and my chest heaves as I fight to get my breathing under control.
‘HURRY UP!’ yells Win, and then something red zooms past my head.
‘Let’s go,’ says Rose. ‘Together.’
‘What, like a twin thing?’
She shakes her head. ‘Nothing as dorky as that. Just a . . . brother and sister thing.’
With Rose below me we start to climb, our hands and feet moving in time so that the bridge stays as still as possible. We don’t talk, we just work together and soon we’re getting close to the top.
‘Guys, the rope is like a string . . . no, a thread !’ shouts Win. ‘HURRY UP!’
‘Hold on to it!’ I yell.
‘I’m trying . . . I’m trying, but it’s slipping through my fingers!’ We feel the bridge drop slightly and some rocks tumble past us. Then Win starts crying out, ‘ROPE BURN . . . ROPE BURN!’ and Rose and I climb as fast as we can, getting closer and closer to Win’s pain-stricken face.
With a final burst of effort, I pull myself over the edge of the ravine, scramble next to Win, then reach down and grab Rose’s arm. Win takes hold of her other arm and we start to heave. Before her feet are on solid land the ropes snap. We pull Rose up just as the bridge crashes down into the river. Then the three of us stand in a trembling line, legs shaking, hearts hammering, and watch as planks smash on the rocks and ropes are sucked under the foaming water.
Win throws his arms round our shoulders. ‘Did you see my magic? I magicked you up a rubber ring in case you didn’t make it!’
‘You mean that red thing that flew past us?’ Rose shakes her head. ‘It could have killed us, Win.’
‘But still –’ Win’s eyes go wide – ‘a rubber ring.’
‘Pretty amazing,’ I say.
He sighs. ‘It was better than amazing, Arthur; it was imaginary !’
Rose c
atches my eye and grins. She must be in shock because that is the first joke we’ve shared in months. And then she does another first. She turns and looks at Win, and I mean properly looks at him, and says, ‘Thank you for trying to hold on to the bridge, Win.’
‘Anything for the Masters of Roar,’ he says, squeezing us close.
When he lets us go we stare across the deep ravine.
‘That girl . . .’ Rose shakes her head. ‘I thought she was cute. I wanted to help her!’
‘That’s the Lost Girls for you,’ says Win. ‘And now I guess we’re going to have to keep following their deadly signs.’
‘But they led us to the bridge,’ I say.
Rose shrugs. ‘What choice do we have? We can’t go back the way we came.’
She’s right. There’s no bridge now. We’re trapped in this half of the Tangled Forest.
‘I wonder what the Lost Girls have got planned for us next?’ I say.
‘Something painful,’ says Win, ‘and very surprising.’
And that’s when a twig snaps behind us, my arms are yanked behind my back and something rough is thrown over my head. Next my hands are bound so tightly I cry out. The screams and shouts coming from each side tell me that Win and Rose are being tied up too.
Everything goes quiet, then Win says, ‘I, for one, found that very surprising.’
‘Quiet,’ snaps a small, hard voice. ‘Stella wants a word with you, and if she doesn’t like what you’ve got to say, you’ll get smashed up, just like that bridge at the bottom of the ravine!’ She ends her speech by doing a mad, gurgling laugh, and the rest of our captors join in too.
This demonic giggling, combined with the fact that it’s coming from somewhere below my shoulders, tells me that we’ve finally found the Lost Girls.
‘Well,’ says Rose as small fingers prod my back, forcing me to start walking, ‘this is what we wanted to happen.’
‘I guess,’ I say, and then a foot kicks the back of my knees, sending me tumbling to the ground.
‘Nice one, Audrey!’ squeals a voice. ‘He fell in bird poo. LOADS OF IT!’ and then they start laughing all over again.
The Land of Roar Page 10
