...
Inspector Yang looked out over the stone crenelations of the neighborhood guard station's tower at the illuminated weblike streets of the Lower Ring below him on every side, yellow with lamplight. This air faintly stank. Yang frowned at that. The sewers of Ba Sing Se were a wondrous system but there would always be some unscrupulous builder who could not be bothered to conform to city law and so left a building inhabited by ten families with a single link to the underground system. It also meant that the bureaucracy's assigned agent had not performed their rightful duty in inspecting and reporting such a violation. It represented a failure of order. That was the reason Yang was so bothered by the foul scent on the air while below him citizens divided their neighborhoods up into fortified camps.
None of the civilians loitering in those streets would have admitted such aims to any agent of the government but Yang had lived in this city for long enough to recognize the signs of an incipient barricade. The crowds were not just the usual angry young men, their ranks were also swelled with women and grey haired figures who were glaring around with just as much suspicion. There just so happened to be crates and barrels stacked up on opposite sides of the choke points to neighborhoods leaving barely enough room in the streets to comply with the city laws on non-obstruction.
In this ring the groups were mainly divided by profession. The nationalist supporters were craftsmen who faced competition from imports, as well as older men who had served in the war and the exceptionally pious. The so-called reformers were shopkeepers and their customers who had noticed the falling prices associated with the Islanders' mechanized factories, coupled with people more terrified than emboldened by the rumors they had heard about the mask-wearing spirit warriors. For the moment, the city guard's demonstrations of force against any organizers had kept a lid on things. Yang was fairly certain that under normal circumstances he would be able to maintain the peace in his sector for tonight at least. But these were not normal circumstances. People were acting oddly, agitated, and there had been local priests who said that there was something wrong with the spiritual fabric in this part of the city.
Yang glanced over at the nearest lantern that hung from a black iron sconce and spilled its bright yellow light over the light tan, fitted stones of the guard tower. The flame inside the glass was swaying and dancing without a breath of wind. Even fire was behaving strangely and yet every expert had said that there was no way any number of firebenders could cause such a widespread phenomenon across the sector. Just how widespread, was something Yang had yet to determine. He had sent out inquiries but the neighboring radial sectors were unsurprisingly uncooperative in responding to such a strange request.
A sudden sound from the narrow streets below caused Yang's head to snap around. The pitch of the crowds had changed. It sounded like the threat of violence. The Inspector barked a command to the city guard standing at his side and then the Inspector smoothly leapt over the outer wall of the tower, falling five stories through the night air. The paving stones of the road below reached up to catch him and cushioned his fall with magical ripples that vanished into nothingness as the ground returned to its former shape. Yang then walked off to the troubled intersection as behind him he heard the sound of city guards hurriedly preparing an armed patrol to follow him.
The streets were slant lit with crossing shadows from dueling lamps down the various paths. At the end of Yang's route, growing ever closer, were two groups of people yelling a constant stream of dueling insults at each other. Many noticed the approaching weapon-carrying guards and did not care, but soon enough someone also noticed the man in the long dark green robe walking in front of those guards. They recognized an agent of the Agency for Public Safety. Then there was a wave of quiet that swept through the more aware members of the populace.
Soon, Inspector Yang stood in the middle of the intersection. He wished he could order the city guards to raise the street walls and lock down the neighborhoods but with the way things were at the moment the people were likely to tear each other apart and the barriers would only hinder the government's response to stop them. In the distance he could already hear the ringing of a district fire bell, the first what would be many that night, surely. This city was ready to explode.
One civilian in particular had not noticed the change that had washed over the street population as he continued to lambast his opposite.
"You bastards and your guys in the masks are traitors! Burning down houses and businesses, attacking ministers, you all should be hung from the wall by your ankles!"
The principle target of this tirade was a thick middle-aged man in a shopkeeper's blue-striped apron. His face turned red as he yelled back.
"Us traitors?! The merchants are selling us piecemeal to those foreign beasts! And who do you think is setting those fires?! Who do you think wanted the minister who spoke against them dead?! The Fire Nation's behind all this, and you lot are stupid enough to believe their lies!"
Both men stepped forward, raising their fists only to feel a sudden crushing pain over their feet as the bricks below their soles reached by magic up to clamp down, ending their movement. They nearly fell over but they now recognized the government bender in their midst. Two expressions arrived together at the appropriate terrified pallor. Yang did not bother speaking to them but only gestured his hand in the direction of one of the guards behind him. The guard advanced.
"All right people, back to where you came from! Unless you've got a provable reason to be out I don't want to see a single one of you in ten minutes!"
From behind the front lines of the crowd a woman called out, "What about the masked monsters?! We've got to protect ourselves and our homes!"
The guard yelled back. "There's no monsters! The guards are out in force tonight so you all stop worrying and go back home."
Out in the dark someone said, "I heard people are organizing down by the Kuang! They've got headband uniforms and civilian captains!"
"Now that just isn't true. For the..." The noise of chatter rose up above the guard's volume. "People! Disperse now or my men are going to begin providing you with assistance in doing that!"
It was then that Yang felt a faint repeated tremor from the brick street under his feet. The beat was one he recognized so he gave no reaction when the ground suddenly split beside him and a dark green robed Public Safety agent leapt up out of the black tunnels below. Yang let out a slightly heavier breath. Any message delivered to him this way would have to be important but the agent's entrance had never the less disrupted any facsimile of calm that they had managed to achieve here at this intersection. The citizens were panicked again.
The agent bowed his head as Yang turned around. Then the agent presented a folded paper in both hands. "This message arrived at the central station earlier today but was... delayed in getting to you." He did not offer apology but contrition and acceptance of consequences was written on his stony features.
Yang did not comment. Such an error was inexcusable but the mass deployment tonight had disrupted many of the normal systems. This was not the first delayed message he had received today and he did not fault his men. He opened the message to read. Then his breath caught.
For the first time in years Yang spoke without intending to. "Douli Ma'er, you insane..." Then he regained control, even if below his robe he was vibrating with a sudden rush of nervous adrenaline. He snapped at the agent. "We return immediately. Guard captain! Disperse these citizens and lock down the districts." Any intra-neighborhood factional violence that might arise was now an acceptable loss. "There is about to be an international crisis in Kuang Harbor."
A new voice came from the crowd behind him. "Yes, there is. And you will not interfere."
The speaker was a normal man, dressed like a normal shopkeeper. But in his hand he held a painted wooden mask as he moved it toward his face. Yang did not hesitant. A stone shot out from his voluminous sleeves and smashed into the man, blasting him back. But even that had been too late. The mask had touched down on skin and the man was already rising back up from the splintered ruin of the storefront he had impacted.
The voice was changed now. It sounded like ice and wind and savagery. Faint blue light glowed around the Mask. This new fused creature spoke, "We have been called. We have been welcomed. And we shall reclaim this land from the abandoned wretches that now hold it. The chained fire has enabled this, despite his wailing."
Other, still human, voices called out now from among the panicked protesters.
"For the glory of our nation!"
"The gods of Ba Sing Se live again!"
Yang's head whipped around. There were more agents of destruction ready to reveal themselves. There was no way to identify these threats before they pulled out their magical tools. The Masks were here, and they were attacking in the open. Somewhere over the tiled eaves of the Lower Ring another fire bell began to ring, in the harbor Trade Representative Tailang was about to be publicly accused, and the city spun towards war. In the lanterns and torches all around Yang the bright flames wavered and danced, responding to an unknown power in excitement or in sorrow.
...
It was easy enough for Ayika and Mizumi to get through the doors that led to the staff areas of the theaters. One lobby steward had moved forward to intercept them when he saw the two girls heading away from the rest of the guests. However, when he got close and heard Mizumi's artful snapping in the Islander language while making frequent angry gestures back at some other patron behind them, he surreptitiously skirted away and considered himself thankful he did not have Ayika's job of listening to her. As soon as the man turned away Mizumi flashed Ayika a smile and together they slid around a corner to a little truncated corridor that terminated in a white door.
They paused for a moment to make sure no one was watching and then slipped inside to a long narrow hallway that led to the back of the playhouse. Ayika felt that this plan to find where Tailang would be seated had some holes. Unlike the ostentatious front of the building, these back rooms were bare and spartan. In her dark dress Ayika might pass herself off as some sort of employee, even with the little cape-like additions accenting her bust and hips. However, Mizumi was shining like a king's ransom of gold and showing as much skin as, well, as an Islander woman. Fortunately, they managed to slink down the length of the corridor without encountering anyone.
They opened the farthest door with a creak and that is when Ayika came face to face with a dragon in the shadows. As dragons go, one made of wire and colorful cloth is perhaps the least distressing possibility but it was still surprising to run head first into one. Ayika managed to stifle her reflexive fearful exclamation in time but Mizumi heard all the same, though she had the generosity to not say anything, even if she did smile once more. Together they stepped through the dark doorway into the surprisingly cavernous space behind the theater stage and saw rows of wooden swords stacked beside piles of blue cloth oceans and the plate armor made of ribbons.
Ayika whispered as they picked their way through the darkened clutter, "What is this play tonight about anyway?"
"It is the usual, really," Mizumi replied, dismissively. "I read it a time ago. A young woman catches sight of a soldier who is passing through her town. I do not think they ever actually talk but when he goes off to the war they continue to pine for that brief second they saw each other. The soldier has many sorts of interesting battles but the play continues to fixate on the girl who is complaining in her garden. Then she dies, and the soldier comes back to try and marry her but kills himself when he hears she is dead. And then there is a ridiculous ending where they both come back to life. I think the intent is something about the tragedy of war."
"Oh, you poor girl." A sudden voice chimed out of the gloom. "How can one so young and beautiful have no romance in her soul?"
Ayika darted around to grab Mizumi's arm but the mysterious speaker quickly revealed themselves to be an actor woman in an elaborate dress who was busy applying thick white makeup in front of a small mirror and candle. The actor made a brief attempt to continue with these ablutions in silence but then gave up to her internal turmoil with a sigh and lowered the mirror flat on the little table before turning to further correct Mizumi in murmured exasperation.
"It is not a story about war, it is a story of love. It is the tragedy of perfect love appearing where the world will not allow it even begin. Keqin Mao the soldier could just as easily have been off taking an examination or, or, picking peaches for all the difference it would make to the core of the play." Ayika was surprised that despite the beautiful and elaborate dress this actor was wearing it was in fact a man, a slight and slender man but a man all the same who was continuing to dab the white makeup onto his neck as he reprimanded Mizumi.
Mizumi did not seen surprised by the actor's gender. Instead, she grumbled a bit in defense of her own analysis of the play. "Well, it was several years ago that I read it."
Suddenly, from out of the shadows a looming shape appeared clad in bulging green armor made of twisted cloth. This newcomer spoke in the same soft murmur but still Ayika could feel his booming power even so.
"Sungtae, we've got...Who are these girls? What are they doing back here?"
The shorter actor stood and turned. "I have not asked. But they are not students of literature, that much I know. The one in gold was trying to say that this play is about warfare!"
Both foreign actors had variations on the same strange accent that must have been from the United Republic. They spoke the kingdoms' language very easily but they also sounded a little like Mizumi. The one playing the female lead certainly had Mizumi's combativeness as he now escalated his impassioned lecture while his armored fellow seemed merely resigned to this strange intrusion into their backstage. Sungtae was now gaining momentum in his critique and he stood, moving nearer to his co-actor.
"When Guiyun destroyed her gowns so that lecherous captain did not see her in them, was that about war? When she caressed the air imagining that she could reach out to the distant battlefield and touch the cheek of Keqin, did it matter that he was a soldier? No, all the politics and history is just setting like the painted backdrop on the stage. All that matters is the two people."
As the actor put forth his description he began to fall into the rhythms of his acting. He and his tall counterpart both swayed slightly as they slid through a light echo of their upcoming performance. As Sungtae said his last he froze pressed forward towards the cloth armor of his fellow and reaching up towards the actor's cheek with projected tenderness and longing.
Ayika was very uncomfortable. The only theater she was familiar with was the shadow puppets pressed up against a lighted sheet behind which crouched a musician and singing puppeteer. She supposed that in those displays one man told the thoughts of both men and women but to see people fully embodying the counterfeit of her gender in this romance was unsettling and frustrating. So she asked, "Why are you playing the female role? Wouldn't it be easier to just get a woman for the part?"
The false Keqin the Soldier muttered as he turned to fish around in a stack of props for his vast black false beard. "That's just not the way it is done."
Surprisingly, the male Guiyun was the one who agreed with her. "Yes! I have always held that this play in particular would benefit from a woman as Guiyun, at least for the sake of the 'comparison of doves' speech. But in the end it does not really matter. Theater is not about men and women. It is about stories. The stories are all that is truly real. If the words and emotions are right then it really wouldn't matter if we were on stage at all."
Another new voice emerged from around a large dresser that blocked much of the transverse path back here. "Which is no excuse for you two not being in full costume yet. And who are these? Who let these women back here, and Sungtae are you done with your makeup yet?" The third actor had the most elaborate costume yet, an eye-melting conglomeration of colored sashes and scales and fluttering strips hanging from wooden dowels which rose up behind his head. It seemed that a mask could be pulled down, visor-like, from under that flag strewed cap.
Sungtae gave a flicking swish with the sleeve of his dress. "Of course, Nokiun, calm down. Everything is going to be fine. I am sure the Fire Nation officials you are so keen on will look down and positively faint with enjoyment." He gestured out through the stage backdrop as if it were not there to some location in front of the stage and above. "They are right in the center. With a little stretching, they could hand down your looked for tour offer to you on the spot if they chose. As for the girls..."
Mizumi interrupted, "We are sorry for intruding! It was just too tempting to sneak back here and get a glimpse ahead of everyone else. But you are right, we have delayed you fine men for too long. We should really go find out seats. Good luck!"
The third man flinched as Mizumi said this but their Guiyun smiled confidently. He gave a little wave as he raised up a thin white stage mask, painted in the effect of antique courtly makeup. The bottom half dissolved into a lace-like web of holes behind the painted lips but still the frozen face seemed to stare at Ayika knowingly.
...
Lili fidgeted in her seat on the lefthand balcony of the theater stage hall. A moment ago Mizumi had stopped by on the way to her own seat under the pretense of whispering some last piece of inconsequential gossip before the play began. Then she and Ayika had made their way out to join Mizumi's father on the opposite side of the theater. Lili saw them emerge from the door that led to the box seats on the opposite wall, nestled between the thick wooden pillars that held up the whole theater space. Below her, on the main floor of the performance space, there were a great number of tables occupied by other patrons who were receiving drinks and small snacks in preparation to look up at the elevated protrusion of the main stage that jutted out from halfway up the far wall like a proud promontory overlooking the sea.
Lili knew she had to wait a moment before making her excuse to her father's man Mengre, her chaperone for the night, for a few brief minutes on her own but with the building tension she could barely stand it. Finally, those slow seconds had dragged by and she was able to whisper to her minder that she was going to go freshen up as she did not know how long the play would be. Mengre frowned but said nothing. Even if her father had asked him to look after her she was still technically his superior, and he had seen that there was plenty of security in this building. If only Lili could be as confidant.
In the second floor hallway behind the seating balcony, Lili quickly found the small unused side room where she had stashed Zhangyi and Jiang. When she opened the door Jiang was pacing anxiously front of a shuttered window to outside while Zhangyi was tugging on the new formal jacket she had provided him as if attempting to look at it from new angles. They both turned towards her with a start when they heard her enter.
She was terse by necessity of the time constraints. "Tailang is going to be in the center middle box with an entire party of Trade Mission officials. Apparently, he is waiting until the last minute to arrive, probably as a security concern. Prepare yourself for all his party being there but I have a plan to make sure you have at least some assistance near at hand until Public Safety shows themselves. Just remember your signal for when to move."
Both boys looked like they had a lot of comments to add but Lili did not have time to get dragged into whatever they were concerned with. She closed the door and quietly dashed out down the hall. Luckily, she found what she was looking for soon enough.
The theater's entrance hall was now nearly entirely empty as most of the attendees had filtered inwards towards their seats. However, there at the bottom of the staircase was a city guard, allowed to move his post inside the playhouse now that the bulk of the paying customers were no longer around see him. Lili quickly descended the carpeted stairs and said:
"Oh, excuse me, officer. I do not wish to bother you, it is only that I was up on the second floor a moment ago and I saw a suspicious character lurking and eyeing the fine silver-work the theater has on display up there. Now, I am sure it was nothing, he walked away when he saw me coming, but I just thought that it might be best to tell someone more capable and let them decide."
The guard blinked at this sudden conversation but quickly recovered his footing. "Of course, mam. Don't you worry about it and head back to your seat. I'll keep an eye out."
She smiled gratefully. "Why thank you so much! That is a relief off my mind." The supposedly targeted silverware was nearly directly outside the Fire Nation box. That would ensure some guards were at hand when the confrontation with Tailang began but they would not be primed to stop Zhangyi and Jiang entering the box. As she turned away, Lili smiled again now mostly to herself. Tonight should truly be a memorable performance.
...
Ayika glared across the open void of the theater space from her second level seat. Trade Representative Tailang had swept into his chosen central elevated box with all the energy to suggest that he was who audience had come to see. The rest of his guests from the trade mission filed in more sedately behind. Many of them had been keeping abreast of the growing unrest in the city and did not share their superior's confidence at moving freely through so many Kingdoms residents. They had seen Xiaobao's black headbands out on the street and guessed that this mobilization of the native populace could not bode well for them. However, Amantza Tailang sat down unconcerned and gave an expansive and permissive wave vaguely directed in the direction of the stage, as if this performance was a private affair for him that he could initiate when he chose.
Ayika sat in her narrow wooden seat beside Mizumi and looked down over the low railing that separated her feet from the plunge down to the ranks of play-watchers at the tables below her. As a servant-chaperone, only allowed here because Mister Miohuito wanted to ensure his daughter had a perpetual protective shadow, her seat was pressed up against the carved side wall of the box which limited her view slightly but she still saw enough to judge the play for herself.
When the theater first fell quiet at the first notes of the wavering erhu string Ayika was skeptical. She watched the actors enter with stylized sweeping steps out onto the protruding stage that was elevated up off the lower level, and through she recognized the amazing costumes, she was more concerned with the muttered irritation of the patrons sitting behind her who did not appreciate having purchased seats behind a servant from the tribes. It did not help that the actors spoke in a drawn out, exaggerated manner that meant Ayika missed understanding every fifth word. It was silly; like little children playing dress up.
But soon enough, without ever noticing when her opinion changed, Ayika found herself gasping and clutching at her heart with the rest of the audience. Keqin the soldier stomped and roared his defiance at the dangers of war, raising his grasping hand to dare the enemy to try their spears against the strength of his pure love. Just a few feet away on the stage and endless miles distant, the white faced Guiyun despaired. She had lost her heart in a brief moment of soundless contact and she knew that she might never have it returned, while beside her the third actor danced and shifted his masked face along with his voice, flicking a hand in front of his head to somehow switch paper masks in a single moment. Now he was Guiyun's pragmatic yet cruel father, in the next instant he was the dark spirits who whispered evil forebodings of Keqin's fate.
Then the music was rising to a crescendo and Keqin and Guiyun had turned to each other to circle in an untouching dance as they both pled with the infinite universe to let the other know just how strongly they felt. They froze and then then drifted apart to opposite ends of the stage while the last note of the instrument slowly drained away.
When Ayika blinked she found her vision blurry as she looked down at the now empty stage. Somehow tears for these fake people had snuck into her eyes. Then she felt a hand squeeze her wrist.
Mizumi whispered, "This is the half point of the performance. This is our signal. The dragon now folds its wings to plunge."
This expression was foreign to Ayika but the translation was clear. This was their chance to expose Tailang as leader of the Masks. Once started they could not stop. Ayika looked out across the theater to see Lili sitting in her box on the opposite side. In fact, it was already out of Ayika's hands. Beside her, she could hear Mizumi struggling to control the pace of her breathing as they both waited, tension transforming them into statues.
The stage had been quiet for a few moments and the buzz of conversation was only just starting to rise from the crowd when suddenly there was a loud bang of wooden doors thrown open. Most of the audience spun around in surprise to stare up at the Fire Nation Trade Mission's box. The front tables on the theater floor and all the box seats could clearly see Zhangyi dramatically framed in the doorway of the box. The university student took a few steps forward, followed behind by a less dramatic but equally resolute Jiang.
When he wished to, Zhangyi had a truly fine voice. Now it rang out across the play hall. "Amantza Tailang of the Fire Nation! We, Zhangi Mao and Jiang Li are here to expose you for your crimes against the city of Ba Sing Se and the Earth King!"
He took a single step forward. "We name you responsible for the attacks against the property of Aizhang Gaoli, Huang Gong, and Tetzamatl Miohuito, for inciting the populace to violence, and for ordering the murders of Minister Chao Erliao and Professor Chen Lizhen!" For one brief second the large room was completely silent. Zhangyi turned out to the audience at large. "Amantza Tailang is the leader of the dangerously violent organization now known to the city as the Masks! This we testify, for we were once members too!"
The theater was no longer silent. A riot of clashing noise broke out as nearly every person leapt to their feet at once, many calling for conflicting actions. It was pure chaos and out of the corner of her eye Ayika even saw the actors peak out from behind the edges of the stage exits. There was only one person who was not erupting with panic or outrage. Tailang was clearly surprised by the student's dramatic entrance, and recognition flitted across his face in an instant, but he did not look afraid. Instead, it almost looked like he was trying to refrain from laughing.
Then he rose to his feet and called out in a single booming roar that seemed to reverberate in every person's chest.
"Lies!"
There was a moment of shocked quiet that Tailang then seized as he continued in a calm yet commanding voice. His foreign accent tickled around the edges of his words in an nearly imperceptible way that almost made him sound more knowledgeable and trustworthy than a native. It was an impressive trick.
His voice rolled and rumbled along lyrically. "I had wondered when the isolationist ludites would get this desperate with their hatred of my people. Still, this attempt is pathetic. I am the leader of the insurrection terrorizing my own countrymen? I killed Professor Lizhen who had always defended peaceful exchange between our cultures? I somehow disappeared Sub-Minister Erliao from his own house while simultaneously hosting a party in the Trade Mission Exclusionary District? That is ridiculous. My dear boys, someone has bamboozled you to a terrifying degree!"
"No!" Jiang yelled back, moving forward to stand by Zhangyi's side. "You personally met with both of us on the Night of the Veils. You gave us money and masks of dangerous spiritual power as you ordered us to continue to foster animosity towards the Fire Nation! You called yourself the highest of the Initiated and asked us to arm the populace with your spirit masks! All that proves you are the leader behind the attacks!"
"You met with a man during the Festival of Veils?" Tailang now sounded almost pitying as he projected out like a talented actor. The man was in his element, and the more charges levied at him the more energetic and convincing he became. Already the audience was murmuring in agreement. "The night of disguises? Tell me, young man, by any chance was this contact of yours wearing a mask?"
Suddenly another voice broke in, higher pitched but no less loud. Lili sprang to her feet and thrust out her arm to point at Tailang out across the gap between their boxes on perpendicular walls. "You know full well that you were wearing one! But you did not know that I was there too when you met with these men. I followed you, hidden, until you removed your disguise! I am Lili Gaoli, daughter of Aizhang Gaoli and I testify that this is true! Representative Tailang is the leader of a conspiracy to destabilize our city!"
For the first time Tailang was thrown off his balance. There was a brief but revealing moment when the gifted communicator was at a loss for what to say. He quickly recovered but people had noticed this stumble.
Tailang was haughty and imperious. His gaze searched the theater for a face he expected to find. "Now Gaoli's youngest daughter claims to have been spying on me? Really Gaoli, you could not even find the courage to accuse me yourself? But in any case I now understand this farce. People, this is a pathetic plot! The merchant Aizhang Gaoli has been stealing proprietary Fire Nation machinery from his trade partner Tetzamatl Miohuito and my office recently caught wind of this. Apparently, Gaoli thinks these absurd accusations against me will give him time to cover his smuggling tracks!"
"Not true!" By now the more astute audience members had notice the trend and were already looking for the next interrupter, so they located Mizumi very quickly. In fact, it seemed that her father was the only one who was caught completely flat footed. Beside him, Mizumi stood up ramrod straight and clenched her fists at her sides.
"My name is Mizumi Miohuito and this man has been destabilizing the political and spiritual fabric of this city for his own gain! Fire Sage Huitzlan will agree to the same as soon as he feels safe from retribution. He also says that Representative Tailang is responsible for the dangerous desecration of the funeral rituals of Ambassador Aza Naruhama. As a betrayed citizen of the Fire Nation I call on the authorities of Ba Sing Se to seize Trade Representative Amantza Tailang for the good of all nations!"
Tailang spun to look out across to the other balcony and his eyes met Mizumi's with pure confusion. His self control was slipping and he seemed adrift in a world that was coming apart at the seams to lash out at him. Ayika could not help but feel triumph as she and Mizumi stared back, side by side. He might not know who they were but they would be his downfall.
If the theater was in uproar before, now it was in chaos. It might have been that Tailang was attempting to put forth some rejoinder but anything he said was lost in the sudden cacophony. Several of the Trade Mission officials attempted to slink away but there was a city guard blocking the door, drawn from his silverware watching post by the tremendous commotion Zhangyi and Jiang had sparked. In the pit below, several fist fights had already started between political factions amid the tables and chairs. There was even someone from the audience climbing up onto the empty illuminated stage. Amid all the other drama occurring, no one paid that man any attention until he stood up and began to slowly clap.
The room was a riot of noise but something about the man's slow, forceful motions grabbed people's attention. The incipient riot died for a moment as they recognized someone standing above them, silhouetted at the front of the stage by the lamps meant to illuminate the actors. Then he began to yell out across the crowded theater.
"A fine comeuppance for a notorious criminal! However, I feel obligated to amend one of the charges slightly."
Sub-Minister Chao Erliao stood on the lip of the stage and in his hand he held a painted wooden mask. To Ayika's eyes the object already glowed with otherworldly power.
...