Winnie jumped back, frightened by the shimmery, scaly fish-man, and nearly took Ahmad down with her as she toppled.

The Machi Man’s metallic grasp slipped.

“Winnie! We need to catch him!” Ahmad bolted forward, Winnie behind him, and the two kids tried to catch hold of one of the slippery fingers, but it slid through their hands. The Machi Man glided back into the water as they tumbled to the floor of the boat.

Righting themselves, they pondered their predicament, peering over the edge of the boat to spy a fleet of fish-men statues sinking quickly into the depths of the water.

“Great.” Winnie gritted through her teeth. “They are huge. I guess trying to help them out is what the net is for, then.”

In the water below, a good half dozen Machi Men floated aimlessly in the water, frozen fingers waving as they were tugged down by the current. Ahmad and Winnie tossed out the net again and again, but every time they managed to drag them upward, the boat nearly capsized. Trying to grasp their huge hands didn’t work. The Machi Men were too slippery and too heavy.

“This is not going to work,” Ahmad gasped out, trying to steady himself in the wildly rocking boat.

“We need to do something,” Winnie yelled back. “The timer’s showing only minutes left!”

But what?

These Machi Men were built like anchors, heavy and solid, and their sinking seemed inevitable. What could they use to propel them back up out of the water and into the boat, where they belonged?

They were running out of time.

And fast.

“Think, think, think,” Ahmad chanted to himself. His hand dangled over the side of the boat.

Something lurched upward out of the water and grasped Ahmad’s wrist. He yelped.

“Winnie! Help me!”

“Ahmad!” Winnie rushed to his side and gasped. “What is that?”

“I . . . don’t know . . . but it won’t let go! Ugh!” Ahmad shook his wrist in vain. Was it some sort of water ghoul? The Paheli of his daydreams had never been this violent or cruel, but now it seemed to be pulling out the stops. He hated it.

“Okay, okay, change of plans,” Winnie rushed out, before grasping him around the waist. “If we can’t make it let go of you, we haul it out and kick some butt to make it sorry it dared to.”

“Wait, what?”

But Winnie was already tugging.

“T.T., I could use a little help here!”

“Oh, right!” T.T. scrambled behind her, resting a paw on Ahmad’s side. Ahmad shuddered. Even through layers of soggy clothing he could feel barely sheathed claws, and it was almost as uncomfortable as the clammy thing around his wrist.