Spades stood in the shadows at the edge of the stage and watched him work.
Out on the sand, Ho-seok had turned the floor of the tent into the sea.
Not a picture of it. The sea itself, or near enough that no one could tell the difference. The packed sand had gone dark and glassy and was rolling in slow waves from one end of the arena to the other, and on it floated hundreds of little paper boats, each one carrying a lit candle. They drifted right up to the edge of the front row and bumped against the wooden stands, and children leaned down to touch them. Every boat a child touched lifted off the water, unfolded itself in midair, and became a paper crane that flapped once and flew up toward the roof, still carrying its candle.
