The acrid smell of smoke filled the air. Bernie pressed his face into the dirt, his ears ringing with the sound of the explosion.

Heart pounding, Bernie was expecting to be zapped by the drone as he cowered on the ground.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and saw a small purple mushroom in front of him. As his heart returned to a steady pace, he realised that he hadn’t been zapped. He gazed at the mushroom. It nestled in a mess of what looked like cotton wool. Strands of white spread out from it like spider webs across the ground. Spider webs?

He turned over, strands of web clinging to his arms. Oh no, he thought, not spiders! He sat up, frantically wiping the sticky fibres away. His moment of irrational panic passed, as his eyes caught the movement of the drone. It was circling around the mushrooms, the lens on its undercarriage darting this way and that. He looked over at the buggy. The bonnet was warped and charred, smoke billowing from within. He saw Ivy gazing at it in dismay.

Lea-Lea crouched down and picked one of the purple mushrooms. A cloud of fine dust fell from it as the dinosaur lifted it up and threw it at the drone.

What in the world was she doing? wondered Bernie.

Lightning arced from the drone, and the mushroom fell sizzling to the ground. It might have been his imagination, but Bernie thought the other mushrooms quivered slightly as their burnt comrade fell. He shivered.

The drone advanced towards Lea-Lea, and the dinosaur backed away, moving further into the nest of mushrooms. Her tail swept to and fro in a slow wag. It knocked one of the mushrooms which was as big as her and sickly lime green in colour. It had a spherical head with a grey patch on top.

Lea-Lea stopped.

‘What do we do?’ asked Ivy, as Bernie crawled over to where she sat, staring at the confrontation.

‘We need to stop it before it zaps Lea-Lea.’

‘How?’

‘Maybe we can rush it?’ he suggested, getting to his feet. Ivy did as well.

The drone suddenly rotated, the lens jutting from its underside now pointing towards them. There was a low threatening crackle, but no discharge.

‘Um, or maybe we should stay still,’ hissed Bernie.

The crackling faded.

Bernie wondered why the drone didn’t fry them.

With the drone’s attention focused away from her, Lea-Lea started to move again, manoeuvring herself around the green mushroom until it was between her and the drone. She looked straight at Ivy and nodded.

‘Back away,’ muttered Ivy.

She and Bernie both took a couple of shuffling steps.

Seemingly satisfied, the crackling stopped and the drone returned its attention to the dinosaur. It advanced towards her.

As it passed over the lime green mushroom, the fungus quivered. The round head suddenly contracted and unfolded like an umbrella. And a burst of florescent green dust lifted from its surface, propelled into the air around the drone.

‘Spores?’ whispered Ivy.

The drone immediately began skittering about in the air, as if losing control. Left. Right. Up. Down. It spun. Then dropped to the ground with a crack.

Bernie breathed a sigh of relief.

Lea-Lea moved around the mushroom and hopped towards them.

‘I’m so glad you’re okay,’ said Ivy, stroking the dinosaur again.

Lea-Lea chirruped in response.

‘What just happened?’ asked Bernie. ‘Were we saved by a mushroom?’

‘Looks that way,’ agreed Ivy.

Now that the danger had passed, Bernie stared at their surroundings – past the lifeless buggy, smoke still seeping from its innards, across the mushroom field. ‘What is this place?’

‘It must be the centre of the island,’ said Ivy. ‘It’s what Bolete is here to study. He calls it the fungal core. I’ve seen a few photos, but I’ve never been here before.’ She paused. ‘It’s a lot weirder than I expected.’

Bernie looked around at the mushrooms and the webbing that connected them. And a deep fear within him began to rise to the surface.

‘One . . . m-more question,’ stammered Bernie. He took a moment to push down his childhood phobia. Thinking about it was bad enough. Verbalising it was even more difficult. ‘Since this is Monster Island. I need to know. Are there any monster spiders?’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Ivy. She had a puzzled expression on her face. ‘Why?’

‘Well, there are spider webs all over this place.’ He pointed ahead to the mushrooms. ‘They’re all over the ground, between the mushrooms. And there’s a whole mass of them in the centre there. Like a . . .’ He felt his mouth going dry. ‘Like a nest.’

‘It’s not spider web,’ said Ivy. She had a smile on her face. ‘It’s mycelium.’

‘What?’ Bernie was enormously relieved that spiders weren’t involved.

‘Fungus,’ explained Ivy. ‘It’s a network of fungus. Normally it’s underground, like a connecting grid of threads, with mushrooms growing above ground, like flowers. But here, in the fungal core, it’s above ground for some reason. Even Bolete doesn’t know why.’

‘Yes.’ Bernie looked down. ‘I know what mycelium is.’ They were standing at the edge of the ring. The mycelium was quite thin and patchy beneath them. He lifted a foot to see wispy strands clinging to his sneaker. It was way too similar to spider web for his liking.

The webbing thickened further in from the perimeter and the number of mushrooms increased. It was sort of creepy.

Movement caught his eye. The nest-like mass of strands was quivering, pulsing, distending.

‘Look at that!’

As they watched, a ball of fungus shot up into the air. They followed it with their eyes as it sailed over the treetops and disappeared. A distant crash signalled its return to Earth.

‘Cotton wool,’ whispered Bernie, eyes wide, as he remembered the thing in the ditch.

‘Hey, the drone!’ called Ivy.

Bernie’s mind snapped to the present. The device was twitching along the ground. Was it still operating? No! It was on its back, propellers underneath it. So how was it moving?

The webbing beneath it rippled and the drone shot forward, weaving between the mushrooms, heading for the centre and the mass of tangled strands that had just expelled the ball of fungus.

‘I think it’s the mycelium,’ said Ivy. ‘Look . . . it’s moving.’

The fungal fibres undulated and heaved, propelling the drone.

‘The fungus is taking it?’ cried Bernie. ‘This keeps getting creepier.’

‘It’s stealing our evidence,’ fumed Ivy. ‘We need to stop it.’ She took a step forward, but Lea-Lea hopped to the side and blocked her path. ‘We need that drone.’ She tried going around her, but the dinosaur moved again to block.

‘I don’t think she wants you to get it,’ said Bernie. He looked into Lea-Lea’s eyes. They sparkled with intelligence. She had used the mushrooms to take out the drone. And if she didn’t want them to pick it up now, then she must have a good reason.

‘But . . .’ Ivy started to protest.

‘Trust her,’ insisted Bernie. It was the right thing to do. He knew it! ‘She saved us before. She led us here. Trust her now.’

Ivy nodded reluctantly and Lea-Lea seemed to relax.

Bernie and Ivy peered around the dinosaur and watched. As the drone approached the centre, it moved faster. The mycelium beneath it wriggled and heaved, waves passing through it to hurry the broken mechanism along.

In the centre, the mycelium was vibrating. The strands were stretched out between a ring of pale, dusty grey mushrooms, the cotton wool whiteness bulging and round in the centre. That’s why Bernie had first thought it might be a nest. But it was more like a misshapen trampoline. The mushrooms were low to the ground, flat-topped and as wide as dinner plates. The ring and the mycelium strung out within it must have been about two metres in diameter. The mushrooms were so tightly packed he couldn’t see under the fungus trampoline.

As the drone entered the ring, it sank into the mycelium, like a boat drowning at sea.

Bernie gasped.

Ivy suddenly dashed forward a couple of steps, but a deep growl from Lea-Lea made her stop. All the mycelium strands were vibrating now, waves moving towards its centre. ‘Ahhh!’ Ivy stumbled forward. ‘It’s got me!’

The mycelium at her feet was pulling at her, drawing her towards the centre.

‘Get away from there,’ shouted Bernie. ‘I think it wants to eat you like it did the drone!’ This was way worse than a spider’s nest.

Ivy turned. Each step took effort as the strands clung to her sneakers, dragging at her. ‘It’s . . . trying to . . . pull me in.’

Bernie suddenly realised that there was mycelium beneath his feet too. He looked down. It was sparser here, more spread out. Nevertheless, the strands stuck to his sneakers as he stepped back. He felt repulsed by it. The way it held on, like a sinister hug. He imagined what it would be like to be pulled into it – sinking into the spidery strands as they swamped him; going up his nose; into his mouth and down his throat; drowning him!

‘Help!’ called Ivy.

Bernie looked on helplessly, knees weak, frozen by fear. If he went to help her, it would get him too. He looked around frantically for something he could use. A branch? A stick? Anything he could reach out to her with. But there was nothing.

Lea-Lea sprang towards Ivy and nudged her with her head. Ivy grasped her about the neck, and Lea-Lea began to pull. The strands seemed to have no effect on the dinosaur as she helped Ivy stagger towards Bernie.

The bizarre white filaments seemed reluctant to let Ivy go, but with Lea-Lea’s help, she made it to Bernie’s side. The two of them then headed for the trees.

The strands continued to thin towards the edge of the clearing, and as they stopped clinging to his sneakers, Bernie rushed forward and fell into the undergrowth, panting. He almost burst into tears of relief.

Moments later Ivy collapsed beside him. She was shaking.

‘You okay?’ Bernie’s voice was a whispered croak.

Ivy took a shuddering breath and nodded.

‘That was . . .’ Bernie struggled for words. ‘Terrifying!’

Lea-Lea jumped ahead of them and chirruped again, looking over her shoulder.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ breathed Ivy. ‘I get the picture. You want us to leave.’

‘I’m all for that,’ agreed Bernie. He looked at the fungal core, where the mycelium strands had all settled down into inactivity, and shivered.