At first I think he’s done a spell, and I hold my breath, waiting for the inevitable puff of smoke or explosion of stars. But instead I feel something extremely soft wrap around my ankle. I look down and gasp. A tentacle covered in gray speckled fur is winding its way up my leg . . . Win wasn’t shouting a spell. He was shouting a warning!

I lurch forward, trying to tug my leg free, but the octopus just tightens its grip. In their panic to get away, Rose and Win shove past me and run higher up the bridge.

“Wait!” I shout. “It’s got me!”

But Win scurries even farther away, yelling, “I hate them! I hate them! I hate them!”

“Don’t panic,” says Rose, and I honestly can’t tell if she’s talking to Win, or me—the person with the octopus attached to his leg.

Suddenly the octopus’s huge fur-covered head slides out of the water. It stares at me with moist yellow eyes and I push my fingers underneath the tentacle, trying to loosen its grip. I can’t help noticing how incredibly soft the gray fur is.

The head moves toward me. “Do octopuses have teeth?” I shout. “Quick, one of you, tell me!”

“Yes!” yells Win, followed by a “No!” from Rose.

The octopus disappears under the water and I feel myself being dragged down into the sea. “Rose . . . Win!” I cry. “HELP ME!”

Rose wades back down the bridge and wraps her arms around my waist. “I’ll pull and you push,” she says.

I push with all my might, using my hands to try to pry the tentacle off my ankle. Suddenly the octopus loosens its grip and I yank my foot free. Rose and I scramble up the bridge, only stopping when we’re high above the water next to Win.

The octopus vanishes in a rush of bubbles.

“Sorry I couldn’t help, mate,” says Win, “but I flipping hate octopuses. They’re so wriggly and twisty!” He’s properly scared: trembling and peering down into the water for any sign of the octopus.

I rub at my leg, then try a few tentative steps. Except for a red mark around my ankle and a racing heart, I’m OK. “I didn’t think you were this scared of anything,” I say.

Win shudders. “I got squeezed by an octopus down at the Archie Playgo and nearly drowned. It was the furriest thing you’ve ever seen in your life.” We carry on along up the bridge and Win puts his arm around my shoulder. “Sorry, mate.”

“You’ve already said that.”

“I know . . . but, still, I’m sorry.”

Then Rose sneaks up on Win and strokes his arm, and he screams, then falls over, then laughs. And then we’re all laughing, and the bridge is shaking, and it’s like the whole octopus incident never happened.

Chapter 17