...

Mizumi leaned back against the cushioned windowseat as she looked out at the black tiles of the Exclusion roofs and on to the harbor town beyond. Bright sunlight squeezed past the eaves above and left the bottom half of her face reflected in the glass. Such clear panes were still a rare thing to see here in the Earth Kingdom, although the Inner Ring which she was not permitted to visit likely had no shortage. Those hereditary nobles could afford to buy glass directly from the Nation. A book lay forgotten in Mizumi's hands. Still staring out the window, she looked down from this highest tower of her family mansion to the Exclusion's moat of canals and the dark native roofs that stretched out beyond. If she turned to the other window and peered between similar towers of familiar Fire Nation architecture she could see the city wall soaring up high and bright in the sunlight.

Somewhere out there were people attacking anyone who was friendly with her race. Somewhere out there were spirits. Mizumi did not know which thought was more frightening. She and her family lived here, sequestered on a small patch of land in a hostile town trapped between the wall that contained the city and the even larger wall that kept out the world.

Her eyes flicked away from the glass and over to a small end table. There was a letter on it. Lili's message had come by way of Xinfei by way of Ayika and so carried about it invisible sedimentary layers of clashing opinions. Lili had experienced some sort of encounter with Trade Representative Tailang that had grabbed that girl's suspicion. Apparently Tailang had some history with Teacher Lizhen long ago, although Xinfei thought that could be pure conjecture. But then again, Ayika pointed out that Mama Mua had mentioned something about that as well when she was talking about Erliao. At least Mizumi could promise to look into that thin connection, even if she doubted it would lead to much. The representative was frequently at this house and there was also another convenient excuse coming up soon. Mizumi tapped her fingernail on her chair. In fact she had said something to Ayika a while ago that could become relevant. A promised invitation of sorts.

There was the sound of someone climbing up the narrow stairs behind her. Mizumi turned her gaze back down to the book she had been vainly trying to read. Those footsteps likely belonged to a household servant trudging up to one of the storerooms that for necessary reasons of space were located just under the mansion's multileveled roofs. There was no need to make the poor person's task any more onerous by forcing the enacting of the manners required for meeting eyes with the lady of the house.

The book's words swam on the page. Mizumi was thinking too much in the language of the Kingdom these days. Her thoughts flew outside to where Ayika strode along those dangerous streets. Word was that though the city government had been frightened by the Masks' violent display on the Fifth Hill, among the common people the conservatives were still gaining support for their isolationist agenda. Each night several shops carrying goods from the Nation were smashed or vandalized. In the Lower Ring the Ceramics Guild earthbenders and their anti-trade calls were growing in influence, especially among those skilled artisans who felt their livelihoods were threatened by superior manufacturing techniques from the Nation. Even the city's temples were taking up the cry against outside influence and for once citizens were starting to listen to the priests again.

The footsteps had stopped. Mizumi looked up and then thrust her book down on the seat beside her in surprise. She popped up off her seat, jolted back into her native language.

"Grandfather!"

The old man standing at the top of the stairs twisted his mouth in an ironic grin. "Were you expecting someone else? I can go fetch someone if I'm too much of a disappointment." His pointed grey beard wiggled as he spoke.

Mizumi could not help rolling her eyes as she smiled. "You know that's not what I meant. I just know that Doctor Izu asked you to not climb so many stairs. Remember your knees."

"Oh damn my knees, damn the doctor and damn seven other things too. I'm old, things hurt, and that's the way of it. Time was I had to run up to my watch-post six times a night, rain or shine or the corporal would set my feet on fire. Plus, any doctor who says booze is unhealthy doesn't know a damn thing. What's a man to drink, I ask you? Water? That will kill you if you don't chase it with something."

Mizumi smiled. Her grandfather had retired from the military before the end of the war, and taken that salary, some international contacts, and some questionably acquired luxury goods to go on and establish the seed for the international shipping company that his son now headed. However, he was still a soldier at heart. And that meant he knew what is felt like to have people wanting him dead.

She took a breath. She wanted so badly to bare her heart but there was still only so much she could tell him about all this. "Grandfather? There...I keep hearing about local people threatening us. Threatening those from the Nation I mean. They're projecting all their troubles in the city onto us. And now they're blaming us for fires breaking out in the Lower Ring and rumors of sickness. And spirits..." Mizumi cut herself off.

Her grandfather grunted as he slowly lowered himself down into a chair near the window. "If I remember my schooling right, these people do things like that because their earth culture is against innovation and enslaves the people through reliance on tradition." He paused. "Or maybe that was the tribals? No, the tribals were superstitious and mystical instead of logical and analytical like the good people of the Nation." He shook his head. "It's so hard to keep track of what we are supposed to believe."

Mizumi was going to ask about how he had dealt with the urban unrest back home after the Fire Lord's coup. This pervasive unease in the streets had to share some common aspects. But the words died in her mouth as she remembered the furious crowd outside Lili Gaoli's house. She remembered the fire in the night. "How can they hate us that much?" She was not even looking at him, instead blankly addressing the view out the window.

Her grandfather looked at her sweetly. He breathed heavily as he leaned himself further back into his chair. "You were born after the war, little Mizi. You children of peace are the most beautiful thing I have seen in my life." Then he cleared his throat and he was the same gruff old soldier again. "People will always find ways to hate each other and when it comes to this, well the grooves of hatred between our nations have been worn down for a hundred years. It's easy enough to fall back in."

"But they don't even understand the issues they are angry about! There are people out there tricking the citizens for their own gain!"

"Ha! Well, the Kingdomers are nothing if not stubborn. But all that's not your job to worry about. Let Amantza Tailang worry about politics and Sage Huitzlan worry about the gods and spirits. Hey, in a week or so we should have a new city god if the ceremonies keep going well. That's the next best thing to having the Fire Lord stop by and bless the place. Old Naruhama was a good guy, strong firebender. He'll do right by us in the spirit world."

Mizumi remembered what Mama Mua had said about the spirit world. She was not sure even an Exclusion city-god would be able to help if the gods of Ba Sing Se were powerless to stop the growing power of the Masks and whatever strange influence they were bringing. Ayika had said that unquiet ghosts were popping up in the Lower Ring. Possibly elsewhere too, there was no way of knowing. And Mizumi had heard her father talking about rumors of sickness in the city and the parts of the Town near to it. Something was failing about the standard rituals in this city. Just as the politics were failing. The mob and the curse were both coming for her and her family.

She had always trusted her grandfather. With her father busy abroad so much grandfather had cared for her. He had taught her confidence and trained her in self defense. Surely she could trust him now. Maybe even about Ayika. "Grandfather, I..."

Her head twitched to the side as another set of footsteps came up the wooden stairs. It was the butler and he had a letter to present. At first Mizumi thought it must be another letter from Lili. She only knew a few people in this country who she was friendly with enough to warrant a letter. Ayika was brilliant but rather bereft of schooling. Since Mizumi was not entirely confident in the Water Tribe woman's ability to write an entire letter that left only Lili Gaoli. But she was wrong. The envelope was not addressed to Mizumi Miohuito but rather to the entire Miohuito household. It was an invitation and the butler presented it to Mizumi's grandfather as the head of household, however, the old man just waved it off and directed the servant over to Mizumi.

Mizumi's grandfather had recognized the letter's format and gave her a gesture of his head as she read it. "Well? Who's inviting us where?"

Mizumi blinked in surprise and read the name twice to make sure. "Sub-Minister of Culture and Worthy Expression Chao Erliao invites us to his party recognizing the Festival of Veils."

Grandfather mimed spitting. "The nerve of that guy. Our loudest enemy invites us to some stupid local festival. At least that gives us a good excuse to not go. Out of curiosity where is it?"

"At his family home in the Inner Ring. He mentioned this party to my father before. That night outside the Gaolis'." Mizumi said this softly as thoughts and possibilities began to flit into her mind.

"All the worse. Two hours ride on their primitive proto-trains! Even without my knees there's no way you'd ever see me go behind that many walls. I'd never be able to convince myself they'd let me out again. And they'd all be chattering in the Earth Kingdom language. Nope, not for me."

Mizumi had no love for Erliao but there were a lot of questions around him. He had known the old teacher Lizhen very well. Mua said that the minister and the professor had been friends while Lizhen was doing his research of Fire Nation ritual customs with Ambassador Naruhuama and Fire Sage Huitzlan. And Lili's letter had confirmed Lizhen and Erliao had also shared some further connection that everyone from Tailang to Mama Mua seemed to be aware of but no one would explain. It seemed tied to whatever cued the divergence in their politics. Maybe it was also tied to Lizhen's death. Perhaps some closer investigation was warranted.

The invitation said that 'you and your friends' were invited. They were allowed to bring guests; a cocky gesture. Either Erliao was confident that they would not accept this invitation or his household was amply prepared to entertain the entire Exclusion if they chose to arrive. Mizumi had never seen inside the Inner Ring. Of course her father would never let her go all the way through the city. Not after the stunt she had pulled the night of the riot, even if she had pinned most of the blame on Lili's "frantic native nerves". But still it was nice to think of attending an elegant foreign party. Especially on a holiday when everyone would be in disguise. One could bring any sort of guest at all. She looked back out the window at the city wall in the distance.

...

The sun was high beside the moon and Ayika walked beside Mizumi on the stone-paved street as the light beat down from the sky to warm her back. Mizumi was saying something but for some reason Ayika could not make out her words over the general uncertain noise of the city. She leaned in closer, almost pressing against her friend but still she could not pick out the individual words. Still, this walk was pleasant.

The others were there too. Xinfei and Lili were off to the side and Xiaobao was walking before them. Someone had started a silly game where they tried to only step on the cracks between the paving stones. It was ridiculous but Mizumi was laughing as she caught hold of Ayika's arm to steady her balance. None of the players paid any mind as the web of cracks detached from the ground and floated up into the air carrying the five of them along.

Something turned in Ayika's stomach. This new development was dangerous even if she could not articulate why. Her thoughts felt fuzzy. They were now standing on a lattice of black lines floating three stories above the street. Her friends still danced and skipped along their chosen routes with no mind to the drop. They didn't fear that they might fall. However, Ayika was frozen and she felt the impossible cracks press into the soles of her feet like the thin cables of a high wire act.

Mizumi grabbed Ayika's hand as she looked back at her, urging her on with a smile. But Ayika could not bring herself to move from her spot in the air. She was paralyzed by an intense and unbearable fear. Then Mizumi's smile looked sad and her lips moved in the pattern of some silent word. She let go of Ayika's hand and walked backwards down this dirt floored alley in a shadowed canyon of towering buildings.

Ayika stood in the shadows of the dark alley that now surrounded her and screamed out at Mizumi to be careful, to come back to her. There was a terrible danger drawing nearer.

"She'll come back. That is what you have to worry about."

Mama Mua was standing beside Ayika. In her hands the shaman held a long knife by the blade and she slowly pressed the point against her own chest. Blood ran down between her fingers and she smiled. All this Ayika saw in the flickering light of the flames.

All around her the city burned. Flames licked and danced across the roofs as fire burst forth from every window. The clouds and smoke in the sky reflected the orange light, taking on the appearance of a pot of boiling metal upended above their heads. None of the hundreds of pedestrians around them at this broad crossroads seemed to notice the fires. Ayika called out again, begging Mizumi to come back, to be safe. But Mizumi still stayed ten paces away.

A male voice spoke behind her. "Open eyes are scary, aren't they? And unfortunately the worse pain is yet to come. But don't worry. When the time comes I will take the pain away from you."

Ayika spun and saw two shadowed black figures behind her. Or maybe it was the same figure twice because with a blink they were gone. Yet she knew he or they was never really gone.

She turned in place, yelling out for someone to help fight the fires that were devouring the city, but none of the passers by paid her any mind. They didn't even notice the roaring inferno. In fact many of them were not even people but were monsters wearing costumes with human faces, masquerading as people for some celebration.

As Ayika gaped at the swirling strangeness around her she noticed something else. The fires were massive but they were not everywhere at once. They moved around in a shifting ring of destruction that was nevertheless expanding all the time. Down a street Ayika caught a glimpse of a lone running figure. The person held something in its hands that was constantly disgorging waves of fire but this destruction did not seem to be the runner's intent. They even tried to bury the fire-source but it did not work. The power still burst forth no matter how it was hidden. The runner had a shape clinging to its back, egging it on, keeping it from rest. The shape had claws and they were sharp.

Important men stood in the city square beside Ayika, forming a long line. Each man reached behind himself to grab a shard of darkness again and again, one after another. They didn't see that these shards destroyed everyone they touched. Or possibly they did not care. They each had their own plans. Ayika faced the last man in the rear of the line and she saw that he smiled. He knew what he was doing as he stood in that vast shadow behind him.

Ayika looked up and saw that the shadow was cast by a towering giant, an old man wearing a crown of black glass, a man with no face. She recognized him from another dream and with a jolt to her core Ayika suddenly knew that she was in a dream. But she did not awake. She remained in this confusing mess of imagination and symbolism though great effort in obedience to some sense she did not understand. The faceless giant above the burning city turned his sightless head down to meet her gaze. He had no mouth but his voice boomed out over the endless blaze and the grasping men and the monsters in human masks.

"FIND ME. STOP ME. BURN ME."

Then ten thousand clawing skeletal arms burst forth from his robes to rip the city apart as the giant man wailed in despair.

Ayika awoke in the dark without a noise. At her side on the other half of the thin mattress her little brother Oakas breathed softly in his sleep. In their little corner alcove Grandma Aka's wooden idols looked out with carved eyes rimmed with fish teeth. Ayika didn't make a noise as she lay there. She was used to these dreams by now. She had them every night.

...

Inspector Ta Yang of the Royal Agency for the Enforcement of Public Safety looked back at the stack of documents on his desk. It was a full collection of the last week's worth of incident reports from his own Radial Sector Twenty-seven. To the side of that pile were two more, hailing from cooperative clerks in Sectors Twenty-six and Twenty-eight. All this information and still he knew nothing.

A cool breath of air snuck into the office through a crack in the window frame and Inspector Yang frowned. This district station had not been constructed to serve its current purpose. The building was an old Tax Station in the Middle Ring and in many ways it was perfect for an office of the Agency for Public Safety. Its dignified constriction and venerable age projected governmental authority. Its thick stone walls could protect classified documents just as well as they had protected gathered revenue and its placement along the Radial Tram Line was invaluable for dispatching agents. However, it had windows.

His Glorious Majesty Kui, the King of Kings of Earth Under Heaven had ordered years ago that the newly formed Agency must locate its offices in unfortified aboveground positions. The stated intent was to signal a final break from the shadowed legacy of the old Dai Li Cultural Authority by literally dragging them into the light. The unstated reason was understood just as well. Not even two decades ago many of the Dai Li had participated in a treasonous coup against the King. Kings are slow to forgive. If the agency pressing their own throats against a sword-blade was what it took to earn back that trust then that is what the newly renamed organization must do. Even if it left them uncomfortably exposed.

Though the Agency for Public Safety was granted fewer liberties than the old Dai Li the expectations towards it were the same. They were to protect the stability of the city. And Inspector Yang was failing. In the aftermath of the riot on the Fifth Hill hundreds of arrests had been made. But it was clear that none of those unfortunate enough to be snatched off the street could be considered organizers. As part of a show of force, Yang's agents had been forced to round up many antigovernment offenders who they had for years carefully tended as reliable sources of information. Instead of knowing more Yang now knew less and still requests came down from the ministers of the Inner Ring. Requests rooted in petty politics and personal vendettas that hamstrung any effective investigation.

Yang shifted one of the papers on his desk to reveal another. This report mentioned masks. Criminals wearing masks was hardly surprising but this was not the first time he had heard these subtle unwritten hints between the columns of characters. This was superstitious talk from those who should know better. Talk once again of a secret society more effective than the hundred others that festered in the dark bars and gambling dens of Inspector Yang's sector.

Someone was directing this turmoil. He wondered if the statistically anomalous rash of fires in the Lower Ring was connected. Of course, it was the end of a dry summer and the first brush of autumn cold would mean people intentionally lighting their hearths and sometimes unintentionally lighting their houses. Even in Ba Sing Se not everything was a conspiracy. Still...

There was a soft sound to his right and Yang was instantly prepared to kill. Then he relaxed and declined to move from his chair. He recognized the man who was now standing on the third floor windowsill of the office. Instead, Yang flicked his eyes back to his desk and recovered the suspicious report about masks. He decided to open conversation with a compliment. "You still land very lightly." Of course he did. Dai Li training never faded.

Douli Ma'er looked down from his perch in the window as he controlled the urge to let his breathing elevate after his drop from the sky. Now that his feet were braced against the stone window-frame, the stones he had shot forth out of this robes a moment ago to cancel out his falling momentum smoothly halted below at the command of his earthbending gesture and rose back up just before they smashed against the ground. This technique of arresting one's fall without making noise had been more tiring than he remembered. He was growing older.

Yang began to speak without looking up. "Pensioner Douli Ma'er, it is pleasant to see you. Please tell us the reason for which you chose our window as your ingress point." A Dai Li, that is to say an Agent for Public Safety, spoke not for themselves but on behalf of the government. Yang's use of plural was an irritatingly exact interpretation of that doctrine.

Ma'er ignored this idiosyncrasy as he always had before. He said, "I have information about those responsible for the destruction three nights ago."

Yang drew forth a single sheet of paper from within one of the piles. The connection was easy enough to make, "Judging from this report on the dismantlement of the upper floors of the house of a Xiangme Han lately of the Fifth Hill district one responsible party is likely yourself. We have accounted for all our agents with such training. It is fortunate that the family was not at home. You are slow in coming to us."

Ma'er made a swift motion and a wooden object clattered across Yang's desk. It was a mask, painted gold and blue. The face rose in the front like the beak of a bird. Yang gently picked it up and began to examine it. There were no obvious marks signaling the artist or manufacturer. He turned it over and began to look at the inside surface. It was covered with painted script, stylized to the point of illegibility.

"I would keep that away from your face," Ma'er said from across the room. "I am not sure it's as simple to trigger as putting it on but this is not the place and you are not the one to test it. There is magic going on with those, something I do not recognize."

Inspector Yang did not raise a skeptical eyebrow. There was no need. Nor did he feel any compulsion to do something as foolish as to wear what could potentially be evidence of a treasonous conspiracy. He set the mask down and pushed it aside. Generally magic was what the uneducated called what they did not understand. Some even called bending a type of magic. But the reports about security forces clashing with certain members powerful of the mob to uncertain results had indeed been troubling. Seeking information was never inadvisable. It was his duty.

"Whatever you have come to say, it would be best for you to say it now."

Ma'er frowned. He did not particularly like men of Yang's disposition, but he had still chosen to come. Someone in power had to be warned.

He began to lay out what he knew. "This conservative society that organized the march on the Middle Ring is an agglomeration of nationalist groups. The student nationalists are still peripherally involved but now instead of directing the discussion they're low ranking order-takers. The leadership is called the Initiated, it's they that wear those masks. The date of the murder of former Royal University Professor Chen Lizhen somehow signaled a transformation in their tactics from influencing public dialogue to inciting violence. Perhaps this was the manifested aftermath of a shakeup in their organizational structure I believe occurred two weeks previously. This change in tactics has coincided with an increase in whatever power is imparted by those inscribed masks. That I discovered by personal experience." He took a breath as he felt a sympathetic twinge in the shoulder he had injured. "I also have reason to believe that these 'Masks' might be somehow involved with the spirit world."

Inspector Yang did not even raise an eyebrow at this speech. "Is that it? None of that is more than inference. You have not identified any suspects in this group's leadership?"

Ma'er resisted the urge to pace in frustration. "No. The masks are distributed from a central source and someone is calling the shots but I have not been able to track the chain of command. There is one thing. I gave another of these masks to Chen Lizhen on the day of his murder. He recognized it. What he knew he said he wouldn't tell me until he could confirm the seemingly impossible implication that arose. I don't know what he meant. He never spoke to me again and the killer took back that mask. There was something about that particular mask that invited a stronger reaction in their organization than the loss of the ones I had previously taken." Ma'er was now looking off in thought, not focusing on the man in front of him.

Inspector Yang was far too accustomed to obedience to tolerate these ramblings. "So, all your illegal private interferences have come to nothing. In fact, you may have contributed to the death of the disgraced professor." He placed his hands flat on the desk. "The current situation being what it is we can no longer turn a blind eye to your activities. You must turn over all your information that will lead to the capture of these anti-government forces. We have been tearing the Lower Ring apart looking for the organizers of the march on the Fifth Hill but nothing has been found. In fact, in several of the raid sites it appeared someone had been there before us. Violently. Someone with power and advance knowledge of our plans." His voice grew dark.

Ma'er sputtered, "What? You can't possibly think that I-"

Yang snapped back in reply. "Of course not. No retiree fifteen years out of the service would be able to intercept our communications. The leak obviously came from somewhere among our superiors. The politics is thick here. And besides, the evidence of violence our agents gathered was not indicative of earthbending. Metal hinges were ripped off wooden doors." Now it was Yang's turn to look contemplative. "We have heard of a new school of earthbending originating in the United Republic that teaches the manipulation of metal. We have contacted intelligence assets there to obtain a thorough description of the indicative signs to see if these recent incidents match. But whoever the perpetrating parties are their capture is guaranteed. However, a quick resolution is not. To that end you must reveal your source to us. It is obvious you have a contact within the cultist organization."

Ma'er did not like the cool and calm tone Inspector Yang was using to discuss this issue. "Do not underestimate the mask-wearers. Don't send any agents out alone. You have not tangled with these people personally like I have so-"

"You are avoiding our command. The agency was content to back off its surveillance of the student nationalist groups when you promised to take a special interest, off the books. Frankly, those boys had only gained our attention at all as a political favor promised by someone in the ministry so we were glad to not waste any more resources. We trusted that a Dai Li would promptly inform us if any new information prompted a reassessment of their threat. But you did not."

"Yang, this is far beyond some kids playing at politics. As soon as I was sure I-"

"Do not speak to me like I'm an idiot!" Inspector Yang's outburst was sudden and violent. But when the last syllable passed his lips the rage passed as well and his face was as impassive as always. "Your dwelling was searched this mourning. The contents of your concealed room are currently in evidence awaiting further analysis but it is clear you lost control of this situation long ago. You saw that the nationalists received a powerful financier months ago. You saw a change in their leadership and strategies four weeks ago. You even saw sign of the beginning of these supposed forays into the occult. But you did not report it. You tried to conduct the entire investigation yourself. And as a result you lost your assistant, Tian Chang of Red Dye Road in Hero Zhang square quarter of the Lower Ring. We can no longer allow you to continue these pretensions of retained competence."

Ma'er's powerful shoulders sagged. He could not even muster up surprise that Yang knew about Tian disappearance. The last Ma'er had ever heard of him was from that Tribal girl who supposedly saw him at his raid on the Masks turned warehouse fire. Ma'er sagged slightly. Nothing weakens a man like knowing he's been in the wrong.

"Please. The boy Tian is still out there somewhere. I've been trying to find him. His family..." Ma'er stopped. Appeals to sentimentality would not do any good within these walls. "I believe he may have information that could be devastating to the nationalist society. Only that could explain his level of fear and his refusal to even contact me. Those incidents of break-ins in the Lower Ring? The Masks are searching for someone. Tian must fear reprisal. During his infiltration of the organization he somehow got wind of the plan to murder Chen Lizhen. He learned something important that night. Something important enough to scare him into hiding. Please find him."

"The Agency for the Enforcement of Public Safety is not in the business of performing favors. And you have no credit here." Yang leaned forward against his desk. "But you might be informed as to the relevant results of our investigation. After you turn over the student dissenters you have been protecting. You did them kindness while you could. The time for that kindness is now over. Blood must be paid for the riot on the Fifth Hill."

Ma'er matched Inspector Yang's stare. This was the first time the agent had met his eyes since he had entered the man's office. To expose the hiding spot of the student student nationalists to this man would be cruel. Cruelty in the name of necessity. It is what the great Long Feng would have done.

Ma'er nodded. May the Builder King protect those boys. No one else was now.

...