“A few minutes later, the young man re-emerged and, without a word or glance, waved us inside. That didn’t stop Tea from fussing over him a bit more before walking inside so gracefully that it almost looked like she was gliding. I quickly trailed behind her, looking more like a lumbering oaf in comparison.

  “Inside, we were met by another individual, a taller man with red hair, as well. His face was attractive in a prep school way, but he wore finer clothing, indicating some level of station either within the gang or personally outside.

  “‘Nice to meet you. You may call me Ember,’ he said in a lilting accent, almost like a song. ‘And who might you be?’

  “‘I am Tea, and this is my compatriot, Wolf,’ she introduced, gesturing to herself and then to me. I gently raised my hand and placed them into my pockets, trying to appear as nonchalant and nonthreatening as possible.

  “‘A pleasure.’ Ember nodded at both of us. ‘Unfortunately, I cannot simply allow you to walk into headquarters, let alone speak to our highest member so candidly.’ Opening his hands and gesturing to both of us, he continued. ‘I’m afraid that regardless of manners, this is as far as you go.’

  “‘Since you’ve spoken plainly, I will do the same courtesy. If you flash mob in the Iron Kitchen, our friend will be killed, and all of your lives will be put at risk,’ Tea said flatly, the deadpan nature of her voice sucking all the mirth out of the room.

  “Ember stumbled back a bit but recomposed himself almost instantly. ‘Right, well, I can see how that could be a problem for both of us,’ he said in a calm and disarming tone. It was the same kind of tone a mid-level politician would use after some unfortunate dirty laundry was aired.

  “‘This does not change the necessity of our voices being heard by both the old vanguard and the new. Our gang is making headway and, soon, will be one of the largest in the whole city. I think it’s time the older gangs realized this and, frankly, let go,’ said Ember, trying to control the conversation.

  “Tea paused, staring at the young man for a while before finally speaking again. ‘I’m sure the old guard wouldn’t appreciate what you are trying to say, but I know the new will,’ she said, smiling at the end of her words.

  “Ember cocked his head in amusement but also with a hint of genuine curiosity. ‘All right, I’ll bite. What do you mean by that?’ He, too, flashed a broken yet beautiful smile back at her.

  “‘Well, it makes sense to me that the upper districts and even where the mayor lives are better targets than kicking a wild dog when it’s down and expecting not to be bitten or even killed,’ Tea replied gently but sternly.

  “‘I see your point. Then what would you have me tell my exec.? He’s busy planning,’ Ember said, his voice trailing off as he waited for her answer.

  “Tea stepped closer, her eyes locking onto Ember’s with an intensity that made the air between them seem to crackle. ‘Tell him that a strike against the mayor’s mansion will not only make a louder statement but also rally more support for your cause. It’s a move that shows strength and precision, not desperation.’

  “Ember nodded slowly, the wheels in his mind visibly turning. ‘All right, I’ll deliver your message. But know this: if you’re playing us, there’ll be consequences.’

  “Tea smiled, her confidence unwavering. ‘We’re not playing you, Ember. We’re offering a better path.’ I couldn’t help but laugh a little as she turned and walked back out of the room. It was less a laugh, though, and more a forceful exhale out of my nose.

  “Exiting the warehouse, the sea air cleared our nostrils as we began to ascend back up to the larger parts of the city. Trailing behind Tea, we exchanged knowing glances before we began to share a knowing smile.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “‘How did you know it was going to work?’

  “‘You know how this whole city is made up of artists?’ Tea replied. ‘That young man didn’t fit into conventionally perceived arts at all. He was trying to present himself as some sort of intellectual bookkeeper, but he’s out for blood.’

  “‘Blood?’ I asked, catching up to her.

  “‘Then it hit me. He’s a political artist. He’s going to take the idea and the credit for himself. The mention of us won’t even come up if it works, I bet,’ she said, looking across the street, waiting for a group of individuals to walk by.

  “‘And what do you think will happen if it doesn’t work?’ I replied flatly, already knowing the answer.

  “‘Then we’ll probably be politically assassinated. He’ll mention it to his boss that we are the ones who advised on this whole ordeal. Best-case scenario, our reputations tank. Worst case…’ Her voice trailed off as her thumb crossed her throat in a slashing motion. ‘Regardless,’ she said, imitating Ember, ‘they’re not going to do it in the Iron Kitchen now. But they have a better idea. We should be safe to go retrieve Bo’s information now.’

  “Continuing our walk down the streets, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched. The group of people we had passed earlier seemed to stop and try their hardest not to stare at us. They wore bowler hats and large black trench coats. My eyes caught on too late. I quickly tore my gaze away before they noticed I was onto them. Linking my arm with Tea’s, I quickened our pace. She gave me a questioning look but didn’t protest. We made our way into a series of alleyways, cutting behind statues and ceramic workshops. The heat and smoke pluming from this area were dense enough to help us hide. Ducking behind a crate of smashed clay, we caught our breath beneath the smoke.

  “Tea, becoming more aware of her awakening power, kept scanning our surroundings, whispering under her breath. ‘Wolf, what’s got you all riled up?’ Her voice was like a calming drip of water into a still lake. I felt my breathing ease and my mind sharpen.

  “‘They’re called the Fruitless, a group of failed artists and fanatics who believe the works of the Nine Muses should be left alone and forgotten,’ I said, peeking my head over her shoulder back to where we came from. ‘Basically, they’re a bunch of dropouts who become desperate for purpose and power. This group gives these basement-dwelling neckbeards a chance.’ Staying low, we continued deeper into the alleyways behind a glassblower shop. ‘The reason they don’t want any of the Nine Muses’ work coming back into circulation is that they think that art like that is too pure for any artist to witness, let alone attempt to recreate.’

  “Continuing to Old Town, we found ourselves in a park full of people playing chess. Young and old were locked in head-to-head matches in the middle of beautiful park greenery. With most of our cover gone, we had to make our way straight to the Iron Kitchen as fast as we could without drawing suspicion.

  “‘There’s nothing more dangerous than an average man who has nothing to lose,’ Tea replied gently, as if trying to spare me from the realization. ‘And there’s nothing more sobering than realizing that we are capable of ending up like them.’

  “A chill ran down my spine, but I was getting used to her words now. I shook my head as we walked quickly. I think that’s her art: she has a siren song. I’ve only read about it, but I’ve never met someone with the actual gift to sway people’s hearts with just their words. Rumor has it that when a siren sings, armies bend to her will. The question was, was Tea starting to remember? Was she playing me like a fool?

  “Making our way across the park, deftly avoiding two more gentlemen in bowler hats, I could finally start smelling the street food from the Iron Kitchen. We were nearly there when Tea halted abruptly, tugging my arm a couple of steps toward a dark corner store that had already closed for the day. Her emerald green eyes were steely and cold as she stared past me in the direction we had come from.

  “‘Behind the fried cabbage cart is a group of the Fruitless waiting for us,’ she said in a hushed tone. Her voice held something besides caution—was that venom?

  “‘Tea?’ I said, cautiously. ‘Do you know these people?’

  “‘No, none of this seems familiar. None of my memories have come back either. But the idea of these men trying to presume the deep intricacies and feelings of the Nine Muses, and to act on their behalf, makes my chest feel hot. Everything in me wants to pick a fight with them so badly and scream at the top of my lungs how wrong they are,’ she said, gripping me tightly and pulling me close, presenting a lovers’ quarrel to the world. ‘But people like that have probably lost the art of debate along with the art of reason.’

  “‘Rumor has it that some of them have even been gentled,’ I replied, looking over my shoulder at the group behind the fried cabbage cart. Tea raised an eyebrow at me.

  “‘Right,’ I said. ‘It’s a device that takes people’s creativity away. It was created by the Muse, Gentleness, with the help of Kindness, to euthanize people’s creativity if they weren’t able to actualize it. As a form of mercy. Some people think that’s what sparked the War of Art to begin with.’

  Coffee With Immortals here!