‘Nope. And there’s only about thirty kay of wire left in it. That’s the good news. The bad news is that the last ten of them are through thick wattle scrub. That’ll be really hard work.’

‘I believe you.’ Tilly sighed.

It wasn’t until their vehicle braked to a stop outside the main cave that Tilly remembered the snake. Finding no way to mention it without relating the whole saga of her visit with Connor, she just hoped to God it had found another home. She alighted reluctantly from the cab saying, ‘That’s an awfully dark-looking hole. I don’t suppose we have a torch?’

‘Under the seat,’ Luke said. ‘Not that it matters – there’s nothing to see except bats. And I’m warning you now, it’s like a sauna inside.’

‘You’ve been here before then?’ Jane asked.

‘I had a quick look once, but it was summer and there was a storm brewing. Really, I just stepped inside and out again – I didn’t even see the bats, just heard them moving around. You’re not scared of them, are you?’

‘No-o,’ Jane said stoutly. ‘I mean they won’t fly into us, will they? You hear about them getting into people’s hair. And don’t they carry disease? I wouldn’t like to be bitten.’

‘You won’t be. And anyway that’s fruit bats.’ He clasped her hand. ‘Got the torch, Tilly? Lead the way then.’

‘I’d rather you did.’ She handed it over and, taking a deep breath, followed behind. She’d once seen Luke pin the head of a red-bellied black snake and bag it for later release, rather than kill it. In the face of that, she couldn’t afford to gibber with terror at meeting a python, which might not even still be there. Rangers, she reminded herself, frequently handled bushfires, crocodiles and stroppy tourists. A non-venomous snake should be a doddle.

The mugginess of the cave was again immediately apparent, and this time, for some reason, the smell of bat guano was stronger, or perhaps she just noticed it more. Tilly’s head jerked nervously about, seeking the shine of scales in whatever the torchlight lit upon.

‘It’s bigger than I thought.’ Luke sounded surprised. Thought . . . thought echoed back and he laughed. ‘Hear that?’ Powdered guano dust rose as he strode forward, the light bouncing over ledges and up the walls of the cave. ‘Moisture,’ he said. ‘See the walls? I thought that glitter was mineral last time, but it’s damp. It explains the humidity.’ He went closer. ‘There’s moss and even some sort of lichen growing here,’ he marvelled, ‘and the light’s absolutely minimal.’

‘Listen to the bats.’ Jane’s hushed voice sounded nervous. She tilted her head at the increased activity of wings and minute squeaks coming from above them.