THE FIRST HINT of dawn was touching the horizon when Ji and Chibo reached the footbridge near Proctor’s town house.
“Climb over the railing,” Ji said.
“Here?” Chibo asked, peering into the dim light.
“Yeah, but watch out. The grass is slippery on the other side, and there’s a canal at the bottom.”
“I know that,” Chibo said. “I can see a little.”
“Oh, right.”
“Plus, it smells totally canal-ish.”
Ji helped Chibo over the railing. As he led him across the grassy slope, a carriage rattled in the street and a frog croaked in the canal. They stopped outside the stone wall of Proctor’s town house and Ji rubbed his neck.
“You’ll have to stand on my shoulders and climb,” he said.
“Awesome!” Chibo said. “I love climbing.”
“There’s spikes on top of the wall. Don’t stab yourself.”
“Climbing good, stabbing bad.” Chibo nodded. “Got it. What happens once I’m up there? I mean, how do you get up?”
“I hid a coil of rope in the vines. Throw it down and—”
“I can see a canal, Ji. That doesn’t mean I can find a rope hidden in vines in the dark.”
“Oh. Well, there’s always my backup plan.”
“What’s that?”
“Cry like a baby,” Ji told him.
Chibo laughed, and a dark shape fluttered softly to the ground behind him, like a man-sized leaf falling from a tree.
“No babycrying, Sneakyji!” Nin said, his gravelly voice muffled by his weird mask.
Chibo yelped in surprise. He spun and slipped on the grass, tumbling toward the canal.
“Nin!” Ji yelped. “Quick!”
Nin swooped toward the canal, his cloak fluttering but his boots solid. He grabbed Chibo, tossed him across one broad shoulder, and gave a raspy giggle.
“Caught her!” he said.
“Wahoo!” Chibo yelled, raising his arms. “I’m flying!”
Ji clasped a hand to his heart. “First, you buttonhead, Chibo’s a boy. Second—”
“Sillybeets!” Nin stomped up the slope toward Ji. “Boy, girl. Too young to choose.”
“Okay.” Ji took a breath. “Stop being weird for five frothing seconds, would you?”
“Can’t stop,” Nin said. “Never started.”
“Very funny,” Ji said. “Are you going to help us over the wall?”
“And who are you?” Chibo asked, steadying himself against Nin’s cloaked head.
“This is Nin,” Ji said. “A friend of mine.”
Nin leaned closer to Ji’s face. His gruesome mask glinted faintly in the gloom of his hood. Then he lowered one red gauntlet from Chibo’s leg and made a fist in front of Ji. “Stonefriends,” he said solemnly. “Sneakyji and Nin.”
“You didn’t even last five frothing seconds,” Ji said.
Nin just stood there with his fist extended. “Stonefriends?”
“Stonefriends,” Ji agreed. He didn’t know what Nin meant, but he touched Nin’s fist with his own.
Nin made a sound like a two boulders colliding, then cocked his head toward Chibo. “So Chibald like swoopflying?”
“I love swoopflying,” Chibo told him.
“There’s no such thing!” Ji said. “And even if there was, you’ve never done it! And even if you had, there isn’t—”
With Chibo still on his shoulders, Nin swarmed up the stone fence, as fast as a blue-bat. When they reached the top of the fence, Chibo said, “I’m high as the treetops! I’m tall as a mountain!”
Nin hopped around and Chibo waved his arms until Ji hissed at them to shut their stupid mouths before they woke anyone.
Chibo whispered, “Sorry,” and Nin ducked his head apologetically. Then they disappeared down the other side of the fence.
“I’ve got to keep those two apart,” Ji muttered.
Nin vaulted the fence and landed beside Ji. “Grab you now?”
“Go ahead. Just—” Ji yelped when Nin carried him to the top of the fence like a bulldog carrying a rag doll. “Just remember, I don’t like swoopflying.”
“Sorry!” Nin said cheerfully.
“How come you’re so good at climbing?”
Nin pulled his hood lower. “I’m mountainborn.”
“Oh, that makes sense.”
“I know! Sensemaking is my favorite thing.”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“Sarcastic?” Nin asked. “Like sardine and fantastic? Sarcastic means fishexcellent?”
“No, it doesn’t mean ‘fishexcellent.’” Ji looked toward the horizon for a moment. “So why do you want to know about the rite?”
“As a favor!” Nin said, and bounded away into the darkness.
“Weirdo,” Ji called after him.
There was no answer except the babbling of the canal.
When Ji climbed down the wall into Proctor’s property, he found Chibo in the garden, inhaling the scent of the flowers and herbs. Smiling softly, his eyes closed and his arms spread. Free.
The town house slept. Quiet on the ground floor. Quiet on the landing. Yet when Ji ushered Chibo upstairs toward the attic, he heard voices.
“We have to go back,” Sally was saying. “Right now.”
“We’ll wait until morning,” Roz said. “Then we’ll ascertain precisely what—”
Sally swore. “Stop with the fancy words!”
“We’ll find out what happened,” Roz explained, though Ji heard a rare impatient note in her voice. “And we’ll make a plan.”
“What plan?”
“I don’t know! Do I look like Ji? You make a plan.”
“My plan is we run back and try things.”
“That’s not a plan. Racing across the city in the middle of the night—”
“—is doolally,” Ji finished, climbing the last few steps.
“Jiyong!” Sally shouted, beaming like she’d burst.
“You’re alive,” Roz said, and swayed like she’d faint.
“I’m going to kill you!” Sally said. “We waited and waited but you never—”
Then Chibo stepped around Ji.
He was underweight and shaved bald—but when he peered blurrily at his sister, his smile was the biggest thing in the world. Sally’s face flickered from amazement to delight, then stopped on a combination of awe and joy.
Ji had never seen anything better.
Sally swooped Chibo into her arms. She touched his face and stroked his arms. They laughed and sobbed and held each other like they’d never let go. Tears streamed down Roz’s face, which glowed with such happiness that Ji’s exhaustion vanished. He was crying, too. He didn’t know why, and he didn’t care.
Then Roz kissed Ji’s cheek. “I’m proud of you.”
His face caught fire and he grew nineteen feet. “Shut up,” he mumbled. “Um, er . . . so how did you make that distraction? Outside the factory?”
“We stabled Gongong with the horses,” Roz said, “then snuck outside the wall and laughed.”
“We laughed and laughed,” Sally said.
“So Gongong started bucking and drove the horses crazy?” Ji shook his head in admiration. “That’s evil.”
“Thanks,” Sally said. “Then Roz threw stones over the wall and broke the windows. She could hit a toad’s nose at twenty yards.”
“Not that I’d do such a thing,” Roz said. “I harbor no grudge against toads.”
Chibo clunked the rice-milk jug onto the table. “We have to free the others.”
“The other what?” Sally asked.
“The weaver kids! I’m here, but they’re still there. Right now. Every minute, every day.”
“We barely got you out,” Ji told him, and boots clomped on the stairs.
Ji lunged for Chibo, to hide him in a back room—but he was too late. The twins strode into the attic, followed by Proctor and Mr. Ioso.
“There!” Lady Posey pointed at Chibo. “I told you we saw the boot boy sneaking out. And look what he brought back. A bald monkey.”
“This is the younger brother?” Proctor stroked his beard and eyed Ji. “You kidnapped him from the weavers?”
“I can explain,” Ji said, trying to think of a lie.
“Please do,” Proctor said.
“Well . . .” Ji gulped. “I kidnapped him from the weavers.”
“That’s not an explanation.” Proctor chuckled. “It’s a confession.”
“But I swear that I ran off without telling Roz and Sally!” Ji said, sticking to the literal truth so Sally wouldn’t contradict him. “They weren’t there when I untied Chibo, and they didn’t—”
“Enough,” Proctor said, and glanced at Mr. Ioso.
When Ji followed his gaze, a blinding white flash exploded across the attic.