Patrick looked away from the paintings, ears reddening. John only hiked up his trousers, a chuckle breaking free of his lips. “Not exactly subtle, is it, Tammy?”
“I keep a discreet clientele,” Tamir assured them. “I am also known as Richard now.”
“Richard?” Patrick repeated, his patience clearly waning.
“Yes. It makes me sound genteel, no?” Tamir pulled proudly at his waistcoat. “All the rich men, they invite me to their swank parties. I am the ball’s belle, as they say.”
“No one says that.”
“I assure you, Meester Colson, they have a fondness for me.”
“I can’t imagine why,” John scoffed. “Couldn’t be all the whores, could it?”
Tamir waved away the suggestion. “It is my charm, I think. But I’ve paid off every debt, Meester Colson. Do not worry.”
Patrick remained unamused. “Just unlock the damn door.”
After a moment of stern contemplation, Tamir produced a key for The Menagerie.
The door opened onto a wardrobe of a room with badly clumped emerald carpet, exotic birds papered onto the walls, and a lumpy canopy bed complete with fake hanging vines.
“Fuck me,” Patrick hissed, then proceeded to push Tamir inside.
John put his hand at my back to guide me over the threshold, and I balked.
“Just need to convene before we part, darlin’,” he said gruffly, holding his hands up for show. “In you get.”
Theo followed warily, closing the door softly behind him, and we were all assaulted by sudden darkness and thick incense. Tamir rushed to open a curtain, and light sprayed across the dust motes.
“Before we rest,” Patrick said, his voice somehow deeper, gruffer. “We should know where we all stand.”
I eyed what appeared to be a loincloth hanging over the arm of a chair. “In here?”
Patrick’s jaw ticked. “This is the only Union-owned enterprise in Morland. It’s here or it’s the tunnels, and last I heard, they were filled with mud.”
I pictured that tunnel, lurking somewhere beneath. “And why are we in Morland?”
“And, er… how long will you be staying?” Tamir added. “Not that you aren’t most welcome—”
“As long as we need, Tamir,” Patrick said. “And you’ll not be breathin’ a word of it to anyone. Not even Union members.”
“No,” Tamir agreed sagely. “But I must say, this is quite a dangerous place for an Alchemist to be. These streets are filled with these important government types, you know? They love the drink and the topless ladies—”
“How do you know he’s an Alchemist?” Theodore interrupted, his arms crossed tightly across his chest.
“Oh, everyone knows this,” Tamir said, gesturing flippantly. “It is all about the gossip in town! Even the newsprint! This is why I am most surprised to find youhere, Meester Colson. The papers say you are finding a truce with the House?”
“Tomorrow, I think you’ll find ’em sayin’ somethin’ different,” John muttered darkly.
Tamir gulped. “This city is not a good place for hiding,” he implored. “So much navy blue, Meester Colson. Better that you head for your tunnels, I think. I can provide some provisions—”
“We need guns and clothes,” Patrick said bluntly. Indeed, Theodore andI were still adorned in Artisan blue—ministry garb, no less. “But we’ll be goin’ nowhere yet.”
Tamir seemed to deflate. “Of course.”
“What word is there of Kenton Hill?” Patrick asked now.
Tamir bowed his head. “My condolences on your loss, my friend. I heard the infantry broke through like a battering lamb.”
