FOR THE NEXT three nights, Ji poked into alleyways and peered through shop windows, prowling the dark streets, looking for something to steal. Once he almost snuck into a town house, but a guard dog barked at the last second.
Then Roz learned that the tapestry factory was in the Oilpress, a neighborhood crisscrossed with canals and waterwheels. So Ji headed for the fancy cobblestone terraces, which offered a panoramic view of the lower city, to memorize the way to the Oilpress.
When he arrived, lanterns and torches illuminated the nighttime streets far below. He crossed a terrace for a better view, walking beside a canal that stopped at a sheer cliff face. The water kept going, though, gushing from the canal and plunging into a pool a hundred yards below.
Three statues rose from the canal. Except these statues weren’t terra-cotta warriors. They had long, seaweedy hair and angular faces. And from the waist down, they were covered in thick fish scales. The current splashed and bubbled across their stony fins, which poked up from the shallows.
“Mermaids,” he said, and felt himself smile.
Ji touched the scaly arm of the statue closest to him. Her scales were slick with mist and glimmered in the moons-light. He rubbed one and—
“There!” a man’s voice barked. “There he is!”
Boots slammed across the terrace and Ji spun, his throat clenching. They’d found him! They knew what he was planning. They were closing in.
“At the mermaids!” a woman’s voice called. “Spread out.”
Four guards jogged toward him from a canal-side path. The moons-light glinted on steel-banded boots and bronze helmets. Three of the guards held swords while the fourth carried a woldo, a long pole with a curved blade at the end.
Frantic with fear, Ji scanned the terrace. He saw only one way out: he could jump into the canal and let the current sweep him down the waterfall. Except he couldn’t dive. Or swim. And that was a loooooong way down.
Sally would’ve been brave enough to try, but Ji just raised his hands and shouted, “I didn’t do it! It wasn’t me!”
“It’s just a kid,” the guard with the woldo said, stalking closer.
“What’re you doing here, this time of night?” a bearded guard asked.
“I’m a boot boy!” Ji blurted. “I mean, I’m just walking around, looking at the city.” He pointed at the streets below the terrace. “Look! The city!”
A light-skinned guard sheathed her sword. “Well, he’s not Red Mask, we know that.”
“You seen anything unusual tonight?” the bearded one asked Ji.
“Red Mask?” Ji asked.
“A guy wearing a purple cloak,” the one with the woldo said.
“A gal,” the light-skinned one said.
“A guy,” the one with the woldo said. “In a red mask that looks like an ogre face.”
“N-no, ma’am,” Ji stammered to her. “I—I don’t think so.”
The bearded guard’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You don’t think?”
“I saw a picture once! A picture of an ogre.” Ji frowned, half remembering a red face and yellow hair. “It gave me nightmares.”
“This mask doesn’t look that realistic,” the light-skinned guard told him. “How about the cloak?”
Ji thought about the sidewalk-hating “gargoyle” in the purple cloak and said, “No, ma’am, I haven’t seen anything like—”
“I’m telling you,” the bearded guard interrupted, “I saw the Mask two minutes ago. She jumped across the canal.”
“You saw a boot boy standing at a mermaid statue,” the guard with the woldo scoffed. “I’m not sure there is a Red Mask.”
“Well, someone is lurking in these neighborhoods at night. Climbing walls, peering in windows.”
Ji gulped. That was him! They thought he was this ogre-masked bandit. “Wow, that’s . . . um . . . Can I go now and—get out of your way?”
The light-skinned guard smacked his shoulder. “Go on then.”
“If we catch you wandering around at night again,” the guard with the woldo said, “we’ll throw you off the mountain. That clear?”
“Yes, ma’am!” Ji said.
He scurried from the terraces and trotted toward the town house, half terrified and half relieved. He couldn’t wander the midnight streets anymore, not with guards searching for a bandit. That was too dangerous. So there was only one thing to do: break into the tapestry factory and kidnap Chibo.
Sure, that wasn’t dangerous at all.
Ji scrubbed boots, scoured laundry, and waited for his chance to sneak away before sunset. Then he’d make his way to the Oilpress, find the tapestry factory, and save Chibo. Somehow.
Two days after the guards caught him, Ji watched Brace spar with the twins, then made a break for the front gate—but the coachman was lurking in the drive. The day after that, he saw Brace playing a strategy game against Mr. Ioso and slunk toward the garden to hop the fence—but Cook was gathering herbs.
Sally didn’t say anything to rush him, though he sometimes caught her eyeing him impatiently. And then late one afternoon in the attic, she attacked Ji with a broom—using the moves she’d memorized watching Brace—while he defended himself with a cushion.
Sally whacked Ji’s shin. “Die, troll!”
“Ow!” He hopped a few times. “Ow! Ow!”
“She’s here!” Roz burst into the room. “I can’t believe it! She’s in the city!”
“Who?” Ji asked, while Sally said, “Huh?”
“Ti-Lin-Su!” Roz said, flapping her hands with excitement. “She lives in the city!”
“That writer you like?” Sally asked.
Ji rubbed his shin. “She’s still writing?”
“She must be!” Roz beamed. “She’s probably at her desk right now, in her water garden. Mulling over her outstanding question, about dragons hoarding treasure.”
“It’s way cooler that they shoot flames out of their eyes,” Sally said.
“Yeah,” Ji said. “What does she care that they hoard treasure?”
“Because she’s a scholar!” Roz said. “She answers the unanswered questions.”
“You should visit her,” Sally said.
Roz blushed. “I could never.”
“Sure you could,” Sally said. “You’re almost a proper lady, and you’re smart as a cactus kitten.”
At least, that was what Ji thought she said. He wasn’t listening, because he’d heard the rattle of coach wheels in the drive, followed by the squeak of the gate opening. The coach was leaving. And if he trailed behind it, maybe he could sneak through the gate! Roughly two seconds later, he burst through the side door of the town house. He heard the wheels crunching in the drive and raced around the corner. There! The carriage was halfway to the front gate. He sprinted after it, arms pumping, sandals slapping the drive.
He lunged forward, grabbed a strap . . . and scrambled onto the running board!
Yes! Victory! Then he spotted Nosey and Pickle watching him from a window in the town house. No! Defeat! They’d caught him sneaking out. His stomach dropped . . . but this time he didn’t turn back. Instead, he gave a big fake wave and a quick bow of his head, like he was supposed to be there.
The twins muttered to each other and Ji smiled wider and faker while the carriage rumbled through the gate and turned onto the street.
Ha! Forget the twins—he’d done it! Maybe he couldn’t steal stuff with guards patrolling the nighttime streets, but now he didn’t need to. Now he just needed to find the Oilpress neighborhood with the tapestry factory and free Chibo.
Of course, he didn’t have the faintest clue how he was going to do that. Still, he’d cross that bridge when he came to it, and hope there weren’t too many trolls lurking underneath.