Kochin had been hoping he’d never see the Congmi siblings again.
They certainly wouldn’t be happy to see him. When last they’d interacted, Kochin had promised to leave this city—and, well, he supposed they were all currently out of Theumas’s bounds.
The hardest part would be getting through this airship undetected. He and Nhika exited the balloon by the ceiling hatch, again braving the perils of the doped hull. It was free of guards or commissioners, nothing but a curved drop and the infinite horizon beyond it, something that would’ve been beautiful if it weren’t so perilous.
They came down the opposite side of the airship from where they’d first come up. Kochin went down the ladder first, prepared to catch Nhika if she slipped, but both of them touched down on the gangway without any trouble. After removing their shoes to avoid rattling the metal platforms, they made their way back into the ship.
In some ways, this confined airship worked to their advantage; there were no more guards than however many had originally come up. But when they reached the level of the passenger cabins, they found where all Nem’s personnel had gone: patrolling these halls, two by two. They drew back into the cover of a lounge and Kochin sized up the sentries, noticing that they’d tied bandannas around the lower part of their faces.
“Which room is theirs?” he asked.
“It’s on the far side of the ship.”
“You mean, past every one of the commissioner’s guards?”
“Precisely.”
He let out a long sigh. “Mother.”
“I’ve come all this way for you, Ven Kochin, and I’ve yet to hear a thank-you.”
He let out a humored breath. “Nhika, I fully intend to spend the rest of my life showing you my thanks.”
That elicited a blush—quickly soothed back from her cheeks, though the pink still lingered at the tips of her ears.
They chanced another glance at the guards. The patrol had neared the end of the hall, and when they turned the corner, Kochin ushered Nhika forward. “Now, while there’s an opening.”
They crept forward. More than once, Kochin had to yank Nhika down a hallway when a guard rounded the corner. This reminded him of escaping detainment on Yarong. He’d seen so many prisons in his short life—the cages of the Butchers’ Row and the commissioner-endorsed cells of this airship. The prison that was Santo, and the Central Theuman Penitentiary that held the unhinged doctor thereafter. He had to hope, after all this was over, there was a life for him without bars.
By some miracle, they weren’t caught before reaching two doors, one for each of the Congmi siblings. Nhika knocked furiously on Mimi’s.
They waited. Kochin wasn’t sure the siblings were in—not until Nhika knocked again, more frantically, and the door opened.
Nhika nearly fell inside. Mimi stood in the entrance, Andao sitting on the chaise behind her. And when Mimi saw him, her expression turned rigid.
“Thank goodness, Mimi,” Nhika said, stepping inside. Mimi let her. “So, you might’ve noticed, but we’ve run into a bit of a snafu. Namely, our way off is at the bottom of the seafloor and Nem is hunting us. I have a plan, though, if you would…”
Her voice trailed off when she noticed Kochin was still frozen at the door. She gave him a curious look, like she wanted him to step inside, away from where guards might catch him, but he couldn’t. Not with Mimi standing in front of the door like that, fixing him with a hurtful look. Not when he’d promised the Congmis they’d never see him again.
“Mimi,” Nhika said in a small voice. “Please.”
With a raised chin, Mimi stepped back, allowing him passage. Yet Kochin still couldn’t move. That was another one of his prisons, the guilt. But he knew he might never escape from that one.
Then Mimi said, “Come inside, Mr. Ven. Before I have to lie to the commissioner about what his heartsooth prisoner is doing outside my door.”
She’d called him a heartsooth—despite everything he’d done. It wasn’t a pardon, but it was a white flag waved. He stepped inside.
Mimi locked the door behind him, then gave Nhika a tired look. “Nhika, when I said I wanted to be distracted from the politicking, I didn’t mean turning dinner into an entire show.”
“Well then, you should’ve been more clear,” Nhika returned. “Besides, this would’ve been a lot smoother if your aircraft hadn’t been sent back to the Yibai Airdrome.”
“How were we supposed to know the commissioner would choose a Ngut airship over one of our own?”
“What’s done is done,” Andao interrupted. “We can’t harbor you forever, Nhika. I’m sure Commissioner Nem has deduced exactly how you managed to get on this ship. It isn’t safe for you here.”
“We’re not planning to stay.” Nhika glanced at Kochin. “We just need a favor.”
“We’ll do what we can, if it’s within our power,” Andao said.
To which Mimi added, “And everything is within our power.”
Kochin let out a humored breath. It was … endearing, seeing the way the Congmis spoke to Nhika. And strange, having them on his side—even if it wasn’t him they were trying to help. In the past, Kochin had never had many allies. Even then, he let Nhika do the talking for him, afraid the Congmis might find every word out of his mouth disagreeable.
“We need a ship,” Nhika said. “Can you send a radio message to Trin?”
Andao hummed. “It’s possible, but it’ll be difficult. The radio would be in the bridge, and I’m not sure Commissioner Nem will let us walk idly in, especially not if he suspects us—”
“We can do it,” Mimi interrupted, not a waver of doubt in her voice. “Leave it to us. You worry about keeping away from the commissioner, and we’ll worry about making sure a ship comes for you.”
Her eyes moved, landing on him. Despite the disdain he found there, she added, “Both of you.”
“Thank you,” Kochin said. “I can’t repay you.”
“Keep her safe,” Mimi said. “That’s all I ask.”
Overhead, the broadcast system blipped to life. “All passengers and crew, please migrate to the dining hall. All passengers and crew, please migrate to the dining hall.”
They all exchanged urgent looks.
“He’s locking down the ship,” Andao said. “You can’t stay here.”
“We’ll go to the loading bay,” Kochin said. “There’ll be parachutes there.”
“Parachutes?” Nhika asked.
“Well, I sincerely doubt the commissioner will let us lower a gangway.”
With a begrudging look, Nhika looked between the Congmi siblings, like there was more she wanted to say to them. But Kochin placed a hand on her shoulder. “We have to go, Nhika.”
“Right,” she said—but before she could, Mimi drew her into an embrace.
“Good luck,” Mimi whispered. “One day, we’ll look back at this and laugh.”
Nhika put on a weak smile. “Mother, I hope so.”