“Make it a good boat,” he shouts as we crawl through the leaves. “Big and strong with a hull that can smash through ice. Oh, and put some more rocky road on it and some of that salty stuff your grandad was going on about. It’s brown and sticky and you spread it on toast!”

“I think he means Marmite,” I tell Rose as we crawl deeper and deeper into the tunnel.

Chapter 24

Going back to Grandad’s feels totally wrong, but I know it’s what we’ve got to do if we’re going to get to the End.

Rose leads the way, and every now and then she shouts something over her shoulder like, “You’d better be right about this, Arthur!” and “If the bed stops working and we get stuck at Grandad’s for the rest of half-term, it will be all your fault!”

Soon the cold stone is replaced by the thin mattress of the cot and the next thing I know I’m crawling into Grandad’s attic.

I blink into the sunlight. Rose is already over by the window. “Grandad’s car isn’t here,” she says. “I guess he’s out.”

“It feels weird to be back,” I say, looking around. Less than an hour ago I was sitting on a frozen dragon plummeting toward the Bottomless Ocean, and now I’m in Grandad’s attic with its new-paint smell and IKEA shelves.

“The real world sucks,” says Rose, turning away from the window. “Let’s get on with this. I want to get back to Roar.”

“So let’s play!” I say, walking into the middle of the room.

Rose groans. “Don’t use the ‘p’ word, Arthur. It sounds tragic.”

“Fine, let’s . . . do some magic!”

“That’s better,” says Rose, then she stands opposite me. “You start.”

“OK . . . let’s pretend we’ve got a boat.” I go to the sofa and jump onto it. “Here it is! It’s an awesome boat. It floats and it’s, um, blue, and . . .” Rose is standing there, watching me. “Well, come on, Rose, climb on board and help me explore the boat!”

She shakes her head. “Arthur, I’m sorry. I just can’t do it. You look like such a massive loser!”

I feel a wave of frustration sweep through me. I do feel a bit stupid, but I know that will go away as soon as Rose joins in. “Of course you can do it,” I say. “You were always much better at making stuff up than me. You made the whole Archie Playgo out of a pile of cushions!”

“I know, but I was little then!”

“Just have a go. You’ll get back into it.”

“OK, OK, but remind me of the rule.”

“We can’t do anything that ruins the game,” I say, “so don’t suggest anything unrealistic.”

“Ha!” says Rose. “Like a wizard-ninja or a flying talking scarecrow?”