“Typical,” Ahmad muttered under his breath. It was a very adult thing to say: You need to figure it out on your own. But what if you never seemed to do that properly? He turned his attention back to the boat. It was as intricately crafted as the net.

“What kind of boat is that?” Winnie asked, leaning in over his shoulder.

“Oh. Um.” Ahmad’s tongue stumbled. He knew this type of boat. He did. Well, not really, but he’d seen it in the picture books his father brought home from trips to Bangladesh when he was younger. “Oh! A dinghy! It’s a type of rowboat. I think.”

Both Ahmad and Winnie startled when a sudden shower of fireworks cartwheeled through the sky. In their wake, they left glittering words. TRIAL: RESCUE THE MACHI MEN FROM DROWNING IN THE DEPTHS OF PAHELI’S GREAT RIVER!

“What is that?” Winnie asked, but Ahmad was already opening the door and rushing outside of the shop to crane his head up toward the sky.

Beneath the shimmering letters, a countdown clock burst into existence: big red numbers blazing against their eyes. Thirty minutes spiraled backward.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Ahmad gasped. “The countdown starts now?”

“Machi Men,” Winnie said dazedly as the words faded away. “What could that even mean? Machine men?”

“Machi . . . ,” Ahmad said slowly, turning the boat he still held over in his fingers. “That also means ‘fish’ in Hindu and Urdu.” For once, his brain wasn’t failing him on the right word, but the rest left him at a loss. Since when did Paheli have a river? And how could fish-men, if he was actually right, drown?

“I don’t understand.” Winnie shook her head. “None of this feels remotely like a normal game. This is not strategy. This is not teamwork. This is us being told to save some people or else they drown! How can the Architect do this?”

As though in response to her question, the door thumped closed behind them. They turned to see Madame Nasirah cheerfully waving out the window and pointing toward the ground. Their knapsacks rested against the threshold, neatly zipped up.

“Great,” Ahmad muttered, staring at it. “I guess giving us another cup of tea before we face our doom was too much to ask.”

“I thought you were the one who said not to expect much from adults,” Winnie said sharply, but when Ahmad glanced at her face, she had a weakly teasing smile.

“I did, but—” Ahmad muttered. That was before he got used to warmth and comfort and a hand on his shoulder. That was before it really sank in that they were playing a game where the stakes were higher than making the top scores leaderboard or winning valuable, limited-edition armor off another player.

Winnie sighed. “There’s nothing else we can do now but try to find that river.”