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the rows of trees and Rachel and Adam stepped into the wood, drawn in by the resinous scent of the pine needles that covered the forest floor, and a welcoming chorus of birdsong.
    “I love that smell.” Rachel breathed deeply, scrunching a handful of the green needles in her fist. The air was instantly cooler in the shade of the forest. Sunshine swam through the branches, but under the trees it was as dark as twilight. Adam marched ahead down the track, swishing at the pine needles on the ground with a long stick.
    They came to a large, circular clearing, where more trees had been recently felled and the woods seemed suddenly to stop. On the other side of the clearing the foliage was more established: older and slower-growing. Lush, green fernssprouted at the foot of gnarled, thick trees, with leafy branches that reached out to the clear blue sky above.
    “That’s more like it,” Adam shouted back at his sister, leaping across the clearing. “Something I can climb.”
    “Be careful,” Rachel called after him, realizing as she did so that her words would have no effect. Adam disappeared into the old part of the wood and Rachel followed.
    Here, the wood was even darker than it had been beneath the pines, and cooler. It was almost chilly. Rachel walked between the irregular trees for a few minutes, following a rough path between the ferns, straining to look upward for signs of her brother. She guessed that he was hiding from her, as usual.
    Suddenly, the birdsong stopped as though at some prearranged signal, and the wood fell very quiet.
    Rachel felt alone.
    “Adam…?” She cupped a hand to her mouth. Nothing. “Aad-aam?”
    Rachel tentatively moved on a few steps. She could smell smoke. The caw of a bird high above her made the hairs on her neck prickle. “Adam, this is stupid.” Rachel heard the crack of a branch and a small, thick stick landed a few centimetres behind her, narrowly missing her head as it whistled past.
    Rachel looked up and saw her brother high above her, perched on a branch, pressing his finger urgently to his lips. He steadied himself and gesticulated at her with his otherhand to come up and join him. Rachel looked up at the tree, then round its base for a foothold. She wasn’t much of a climber; that was Adam’s department. Rachel was about to admit defeat, when a rope, knotted at regular intervals, was lowered down in front of her eyes by her brother. Rachel grasped it firmly and began to climb.
    Several metres up, Adam’s firm hand grabbed Rachel’s arm and pulled her up to the thick branch on which he was balancing. Still urging Rachel not to speak, Adam spoke in a hoarse whisper, “Check this out…” He pointed to where the rope joined the trunk at the junction of the next branch. Another knot of ropes was lashed to the trunk and snaked away between the leaves, as did two further ropes, like the rigging of a sailing ship. The lower formed a kind of tightrope and the two higher ones were handrails. Pushing aside some branches and flat, green leaves, Rachel could see that Adam had discovered an aerial rope bridge between the trees. A complex network of ropes ran from tree to tree, with their final destination concealed, as they disappeared into thick, green foliage.
    “But why do we have to—” Rachel’s question was cut short by the flat of her brother’s hand over her mouth.
    “There’s something going on over there,” Adam hissed, nodding in the direction of the rope bridge. “Come on.”
    The ropes swayed and bounced as they took up Rachel and Adam’s weight, but once they had their balance and had set up a rhythmic step, the bridge felt more rigid. Adampushed on through dense leaves, which swished back into Rachel’s face. Unable to spare an arm to protect herself, Rachel looked down at the ground far below and suddenly felt sick, as if she would fall. She shut her eyes tight, moving on in tiny steps until the whipping of the leaves stopped. She felt Adam’s hand