Chapter 10
The next morning, things seemed hazy. He missed it all, the light and the laughter and even the dancing. Maybe Winry was right, maybe he had fit there somehow, like a birthright he hadn't known he had.
He was thinking about it, Winry and the Court and his brother all mixing together and muddling in his head, and then he was half jerked off his feet and broke out of his haze when Cornello grabbed his wrist and pulled him along after him as he walked quickly down the street. "Come, Elric. I have a job for you. Mustang and Bradley shall come as well."
Ed winced. Mustang was all right, of course, but Bradley was fiercely loyal to Cornello, and whatever this 'job' was, they would have to do it and do it well.
He kept his mouth shut as Bradley fell into step besides Cornello. The old man hadn't loosened his grip on Ed's wrist. It was actually starting to hurt.
His fingers twitched and finally he tugged his hand out of Cornello's grasp, trying to keep his face calm. No one noticed, and he congratulated himself.
Mustang joined them, walking with measured steps. "What is it we shall be doing, Judge?"
"We shall be investigating the miller. He is rumored to hide gypsies in that house of his, and as we all know, that is against the law."
Did the old man's eye linger on him for a second? Did he suspect anything?
Ed had never really thought about what would happen if he was caught. He'd always just assumed that it wouldn't happen. He'd never made a plan for what to do if it did.
And he knew gypsies now. He wouldn't be able to stand there and hurt them, not while looking them in the eyes.
This whole thing was a recipe for disaster. He was dead.
He went anyway. He didn't see any other choices, and the longer he could keep himself out of Cornello's suspicions, the better. Even if it meant going along with hunting down gypsies.
He'd find some way to help them, if any were caught.
Perhaps we shall have to smoke her out…it worked very well the first time, didn't it, dear boy?
Quasimodo shudders and wraps his arms closer around his knees. Cornello was back this morning, and announced with glee that he was going to begin his work, finding Winry, today.
The Lord's work, he had said.
Quasi said nothing, but inside he could feel himself screaming, and it was loud and hard and frantic.
He climbed to the very, very top of the tower and squinted towards the mill, trying to see. He wanted to help, but he didn't see how he could.
Well, he did, actually. He could go down the side of the church and try to help.
But what would Cornello do? What would the soldiers do?
I'm too scared! he screamed in his head. I'm sorry, but I can't do this. I'm scared.
He lowered his head into his arms and perched there like a gargoyle. Waiting.
He didn't know what he was waiting for. But smoke her out…it worked well before was ringing in his ears.
He hoped to all the gods in all the world that he wouldn't see any smoke today.
Or ever.
Ed looked dubiously at the building in front of them. It didn't look like it could hold the miller's whole family, much less stolen gypsies. It was tiny, a farmer's wooden and straw-roofed cottage. Unless there was a trapdoor, there were no gypsies here.
"Conduct a thorough search, Bradley." Cornello said, waving a hand from inside his coach. Ed shifted on his horse.
If you're in there, don't get caught. he thought. He was a little worried, in spite of himself, but he didn't think anyone would notice. He didn't call attention to himself, and Cornello was distracted by the thought of catching some gypsies-the creep was nearly salivating.
The miller wrung his hands. "Please, sir, we never hid any fugitives-our house is always open to the weary traveler, but-"
"Silence!" Cornello said, glaring in their direction, and Ed's fist tightened on the reins. The old man continued, speaking with a sort of casual arrogance. I am above you. his voice said. "You will tell us the truth or stop your snivelley lies. Silence or truth. They are the only things I will hear. Now, tell me. Where have you hidden the gypsies?"
"We have seen none." the miller said.
"Liar." Cornello said, almost sadly. "Well, into your home with you then. I take it Bradley has finished searching…?"
"Yes, sir. No hidden rooms." Bradley said.
"Ah. A shame." Cornello sighed.
The miller and his family backed into their house fearfully and closed the door. Cornello nodded to Bradley, and before Ed knew what was happening, the door of the house was barred .
There's always a catch, isn't there. Ed thought.
Bradley took a torch from Mustang-both he and Bradley had one-and held it out to Ed. "Light the house."
"What?" Ed said, shocked. He really shouldn't have been surprised, after all that the old man had done, but this was over the top. Burn an innocent man's house down-with him in it?
No. No way.
"You heard me. Burn it to the ground-I never want to see that miserable liar again."
A crowd had gathered by now. They were all watching, speaking in hushed tones. And he could tell they were scared. The crowd radiated fear. And the sick bastard Cornello was enjoying it.
Burn it to the ground.
There were people in there. This was sick. Totally sick.
Ed took the torch and looked at it. He felt Cornello's evil smile beaming down on him.
He looked up, and met Mustang's eyes. They begged with him not to do anything rash. He was dizzy, fear and horror and revulsion mixing together.
He looked into the crowd and met a pair of blue eyes under a heavy cloak. He wasn't sure if they belonged to the person he thought they did, but it was enough to remind him just why he was going to do something rash. Right now.
He shoved the torch down into a rain-catching bucket that the miller kept outside his house.
As it fizzed out, he said, "I won't burn this house to the ground, not with people inside. A soldier's job is to protect."
The smile fell off Cornello's face. "Foolish boy." he hissed, almost sadly. But Ed knew it was an act, a fake show of sorrow for another human's 'sins'.
Ed stared at him defiantly, and was prepared for a punishment. What he didn't expect was Bradley taking another torch and setting fire to the building anyway.
Cornello laughed, not with his voice, but his eyes were mocking. What will you do now, boy? You think yourself a hero? You are nothing.
Ed ran at the house and rammed his shoulder on the door. It took him three tries and a few mild burns to open it.
The miller and his family ran out, the children crying and the miller turning to Ed for a half a second, his thank you, bless you clear in his eyes. Ed slumped, suddenly aware of pain in his shoulder. A mild burn, he catalogued, nothing serious-
Then he ran.
He ran in the direction of the city, and Cornello's goons raised their arrows.
Mustang turned away, he noticed out of the corner of his vision, he turned his head and didn't watch, screwing his eyes up so he couldn't see-
And Ed was running, and he saw the cloaked figure, and the blue eyes-
And then there was burning pain in his shoulder and he was falling and then nothing.
Winry screamed. She was not the only one who'd done so.
She'd been in the crowd, for the miller's home was a gypsy haven, and she'd been sneaking the gypsies that were there out when they got wind of Cornello. With Ling's help, the job was done quickly, and the three that were there were now on their way to the Court, safe as could be. But Ed. Ed was hurt, he'd been shot, and he'd fallen into the river-
It was clear the goons believed him dead, and they didn't notice it when she dove into the water after him, abandoning her cloak and diving into the water with a clean slice, hardly a splash.
She searched for him. There was hardly any light here under the bridge, and he was sure to be unconscious from pain if nothing else. But finally, amid her fretting, she found him, floating in the murky water, a thin trail of blood coming from his arm and bubbles trailing from his nose.
She tugged him up to the surface. Was he breathing?
She didn't know. She couldn't do anything. Maybe he'd held his breath.
She let the two of them float with the current, down the river. As soon as she reached a place covered by reeds, she hauled him up out of the water and smacked his back, his stomach, trying to get the water out of him, if there was any.
Finally, he choked out a shuddering breath, and then started gulping loudly, and for a second his eyes focused on her, even behind the lenses, she could tell when he was looking, and then he passed out again.
She growled in frustration and shook him. This wasn't the time-!
A more rational part of her was saying that he was passed out, and he couldn't help it, and she was just going to attract the guards by making all that noise, but she wasn't listening to it.
Then there was a hand on her shoulder and she turned, ready to fight, almost itching to, and then she saw that it was Ling. "They're on the hunt for you again." he said soberly, with none of his usual cheer. "You and Edward."
"He's hurt. Can you help?"
"You know I will, little sister. Where?"
"To the church."
Quasi saw the smoke rising with a fear the filled him up horribly. He stared, every muscle in his body frozen, out at the city, out at the field in the distance where the smoke was rising.
He started when he heard knocking at the door. He'd been sitting is the same spot, his gargoyle spot, for a long while, staring at the smoke rising above the rooftops and praying for Winry's safety. For his own safety.
"Quasi!" a voice hisses. A girl's voice, exhausted and hopeful. "Quasi, are you here? I need help."
"Winry?" he said.
"Yes, it's me. Hurry, Ed's hurt!"
Someone was hurt? He wasn't sure if he could help exactly! But perhaps Archdeacon Marcoh could bring some supplies. He let them in.
Winry stumbled in with the arm of a boy over her shoulder. She was dragging him along, trying to keep him upright, and there was blood leaking from his shoulder. He had golden hair and a slightly angular face, and he was short. Taller than Quasimodo, but only by a little-and Quasimodo knew he was much smaller than other people. Most likely from living up here in the tower.
Winry laid the boy down on Quasimodo's bed and shook him by the shoulders. "Wake up." she said, her voice wavering. "Ed-Ed, just wake up, okay, you have to, I brought you here, we're safe now-"
"Winry?" Quasimodo asked. She seemed terrified, and she was shaking.
"Come on, Ed, w-wake up." she begged, and started to cry.
"W-winry?" he said, scared, because he did not know what to do in this sort of situation, in any situation, any situation at all and she was crying and it was horrible.
He tried putting his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at them, he blue eyes dripping.
"Y-you should sit down." he told her nervously. "He'll wake up soon." I think.
"I'm not going anywhere." she said, shaking her head firmly. "Not until I know he's okay. He got shot, Quasi, he got shot because he was brave and tried to save a family and I can't leave him." The last word choked her, and she started to cry again. She grabbed the boy's limp hand. "He saved my life, all our lives, and I will not l-leave him."
The boy shifted. Winry's attention snapped back to him.
Quasi frowned. "I'll try to find the archdeacon. He may have some supplies." he said, and left.
He was worried too, he knew that. But he also felt just a little hollow in a way he didn't understand-because she was back, and she was here, and she had barely said hello, just fretted over the boy. He supposed he couldn't blame her, he hadn't woken up yet, the boy, just laid there. It hurt a bit, though. That she wasn't paying attention. He'd been worrying about her for days.
He could ignore it. Soon the boy would wake up and everything would be fine. And he'd tell this then, how it upset him. She doesn't need more pain right now.
When he returned with the Archdeacon, she was in the same spot she was in before, gripping the boy's hand so hard that it looks as though she might break it. He knelt down next to her and tapped her wrist.
"You don't want to break his hand." he said softly.
She flushed red and loosened her grip. "I'm sorry." she said in a mumble. "I'm just really w-worried. She wiped furiously at her eyes. "He's moved a little. Maybe he'll wake up."
The Archdeacon knelt on the boy's other side. "This boy is a soldier." he said, not sounding surprised. "What did he do?"
"He saved the miller's family from a fire. Just like Quasi saved me at the festival." Winry said. "They shot him."
The Archdeacon nodded and carefully took of the boy's jacket and shirt, examining the wound in his shoulder. "It's not as deep as it could be, praise God." he said finally. "But it may need to be stitched. I'll see after it is cleaned."
Winry sniffed, and the Archdeacon turned toward her with a smile and gripped her shoulder comfortingly. "Do not worry, child. He will be fine because of you. You have been very brave."
"I'm not brave. It's because of me that this happened. If-" She started to cry again in earnest and Quasi turned toward her and took her free hand. "-If he'd never known me, any of us gypsies, maybe he'd be okay right now-"
The boy shifted and grumbled something, half opening his eyes.
They all looked at him.
"'eez, 'inry, you're such a crybaby."
"Ed!" Winry yelped. "You're alive."
"'Course I'm alive, idiot, what else would I-shit, shit that really hurts." The boy looked down at his shoulder with a clinical air, and then winced. "Okay, I see your point, but-"
Winry hugged him tightly all of a sudden, laughing a little hysterically, and he muttered a curse when she jostled his shoulder but hugged her back anyway.
"God, you fell into the river, you absolute idiot. I thought you were-"
"Yeah, but I'm not, Win." She pulled away, her hand on his uninjured shoulder, and he shook his head at her. "I'm fine. You cry too much."
"S-shut up." she muttered, her cheeks red. "Lay down, the Archdeacon has to fix your shoulder."
He did so, with a loud complaint, but he did it.
Quasi looked at Winry and led her over to the overlook, sitting her down on the pile of straw that Marcoh had snuck up for a chair so he could watch and be comfortable. Watch the streets, that is. For soldiers arresting a gypsy with long blonde hair.
"I was worried about you." he said finally, and she looked fully at him for the first time since she'd come into his tower. She looked exhausted.
"I'm sorry I couldn't visit." she said. "I missed you too, Quasi."
He sat down in the wall where the overlook of the city was. "Yes." he said. "I missed you. A lot. You're my only friend, you know. And I never told, when Cornello came and wanted to find you, I never told. I never showed him this." He pulled the necklace out from under his shirt. "Never."
"Thank you." Winry said, and one more tear traced down her cheek. "I have to get home. Everyone will be worried." she added, closing her eyes. "I can't worry Rose or Granny like that. I'll come back, I'll try, I promise, Quasi."
He smiled. "I'll wait."
She hugged him tightly and then kissed his cheek, quickly. "My friend." she said. "I'll never find a friend who's as good a friend as you."
He touched the spot where she kissed. "Thank you."
She laughed, and walked to where the boy was being stitched up. "I have to go back, Ed. Everyone will be worrying. They may think I'm dead, too."
"Don't." he said. "It's too dangerous, Win-"
"I'm a gypsy. I know the corners and twists of this city better than anyone in the world." she said. "Don't worry about me. I promise you I'll be safe." She took his hand and squeezed it, and then pressed it to her cheek. "I'll come back as soon as I can."
She stood and walked towards the door. "Don't do anything stupid." the boy said. She turned, raising an eyebrow.
"When have I ever?"
"A lot." he said, laughing. "Saving me was a pretty dumb move. But good luck, Win."
She smiled at him, and vanished.
A/N: Wooo! Another chapter done! I'm sorry this one took a while. I had a lot of work that got in the way. But I finished, finally!
I hope you like how it's going so far! If you have questions or anything, just review. I love me the reviews.
Also, I don't own anything except the hopefully excellent plot of the story.
Much love, Ninjee
