The Land of Roar. Jenny McLachlan

to Roar. You know that, right? The whole time we were playing up here in the attic, pretending.’

      ‘But when we played Roar, it didn’t feel like we were in the attic. It felt real.’

      All the time I’ve been talking Rose has been sucking hard on her ice pop, draining all the blue out of it. ‘I suppose it felt different to other games,’ she admits. ‘But do you remember when I said I could fly? I got you all to come and watch, and it turned out it was just me jumping down the stairs flapping my arms.’ She shrugs. ‘Kids have got big imaginations.’

      ‘That’s exactly what I thought, before I felt Grandad being pulled into the bed!’ I show her the marks on my hand where Grandad’s nails dug in. ‘And there’s another thing . . . Just before he disappeared Grandad basically said he believed that Roar was real.’

      Rose laughs. ‘Arthur, this whole thing is a massive practical joke! I bet Grandad’s had this planned for ages.’

      ‘Grandad would never scare me like this.’

      She raises one eyebrow. ‘Wouldn’t he?’

      ‘No, he wouldn’t!’

      Rose shrugs like she couldn’t care less what I think. ‘Suit yourself. I’m going to town. Mazen says there’s three-for-two on at Claire’s. Before I went I thought I should check you hadn’t vanished too.’

      And that’s when I realise it’s hopeless. If Rose is more bothered about hairbands and earrings than she is about Grandad, I don’t want her to come with me. ‘Fine.’ I walk back to the camp bed, crouch down and roll up my sleeves. ‘Hear me roar,’ I mutter, as I stick my head back into the mattress.

      ‘Hah!’ says Rose.

      I pull my head out and turn to look at her, eyes narrowed. I am in no mood to hear Rose’s sarcastic hahs. ‘What?’

      ‘Nothing . . . Only I never said, “Hear me roar” because even when I was five I thought it was stupid. When I got into the middle of the mattress I just shut my eyes and imagined Roar, then when I came out the other side I was there.’ She takes a last long suck on her ice pop, then turns to the door. ‘See you later, loser.’

      I pull my legs in behind me and I crouch in the middle of the bed, just like before.

      Only this time I don’t bother with any magic words. Instead I use Rose’s technique: I close my eyes and I imagine Roar.

      It’s hard to begin with. Roar is buried at the back of my mind. Some details like Win’s hat and Crowky’s voice are crystal clear, but most of it is hazy and muddled, like my memories of Nani and the first house we ever lived in.

      But then something comes back to me. The feeling of holding a soft creature in my hands. This thing has got wings and they’re batting against my fingers. Furry. I’m holding a furry. I’m not sure exactly what a furry is, but suddenly I know there were loads of them in Roar.

      Then my mind is full of furries – I see them hovering like dragonflies and sunbathing on stones, and Roar comes rushing back to me as fast as the furries’ beating wings.

      I see me and Win standing on a ship – the Raven – and I feel the spray from the Bottomless Ocean stinging my eyes. I hear a shout to my left – ‘Get back! Before he burns your hair off !’ and I turn to see Rose tossing bits of doughnut to a hovering dragon.

      Crowky lands with a thump on the deck of the Raven. His black wings billow around him like a cloud as he grips hold of my arm and hisses, ‘I’ve got you now, Arthur Trout! ’

      Keeping my eyes squeezed shut and my mind stuffed full of Roar, I start to crawl further into the mattress. Left hand, right hand. I see Mitch – her blue hair trailing behind her, tangled and encrusted with shells. Left hand, right hand. I smell the bonfire and popcorn smell of Wininja’s cave. Left hand, right hand. Somewhere at the back of my brain I register that I should have fallen on to the attic floor by now, and that this is taking far too long, but I push the thought away and picture Roar’s night sky crammed so full of stars it looked like a bag of glitter had been thrown across black velvet.

      There were millions of stars in Roar – blue, green, pink, purple – and their light was as warm as the sun. Those stars used to shine down on me and Rose when we were floating in Mitch’s lagoon. They made patterns on our skin.

      I freeze, snapping back to where I am. But something has changed. My hands aren’t pressing into a soft and spongy mattress any more. They’re touching something cold and hard. Holding my breath, I feel around. The mattress has gone. I’m kneeling on stone!

      Icy fear rushes through me. This is what I wanted to happen, wasn’t it? I wanted to crawl into the camp bed and for something magical to happen, but now rock is digging into my hands and knees, I’m so scared my whole body is shaking.

      I force myself to open my eyes. Thick blackness surrounds me, but far ahead I can just make out a tiny pinprick of green light. And the air isn’t dusty any more. It’s cool and damp, and I can hear rushing water.

      I start to crawl towards the green light. My head scrapes against the roof of the tunnel and rocks graze my hands, but I don’t stop until I reach the very end and the green light has become a curtain of leaves with light shining through it. Before I can change my mind I push my head through the leaves and crawl out into dazzling sunshine.

      I blink and rub my eyes. I’m on a narrow ledge. I lean forward and see that the ledge is set into a cliff and far below me is a deep round pool. Trying to ignore the terrifying drop, I look straight ahead. I’m staring across a valley with a river winding through it. The river passes forests and mountains and glittering lakes. One side of the valley is bright and alive and bursting with leaves and colour, while the other half is shadowy and barren. The river has a shifting, swirling rainbow shine on its surface and it leads to a wild sea. Far, far away, beyond the sea, are snow-topped mountains.

      Gazing at this unbelievable sight, I should feel lost and scared. But I don’t . . . because this is Roar.