Disclaimer in previous chapters. Please see Author's Notes at the end.
- x -
Stupid.
Edward Elric relaxed as best he could, leaning heavily against the tent pole to take the weight off his aching feet. Not that he didn't routinely spend long periods of time standing – as a professor, he very rarely sat, preferring to teach from the lectern or to make rounds during lab. He just rarely did it without shifting, and almost never with his hands over his head. Those differences were turning out to be substantial ones, as far as his comfort was concerned.
He let his head fall back against the pole as well, eyeing the plate of steel that was firmly enfolding his hands. As far as manacles went, transmuted ones were the best, and the same alchemist that had tunneled after them had decided a block of steel would be sufficient to stop both transmutations and automail. Unfortunately, he thought the automail was automail, and that Ed wouldn't have such a hard time holding thirty pounds of metal over his head.
He also seemed to be under the impression that Edward could have clapped that metal block to a foot to complete a circle, which he was pretty sure wouldn't work. Fingertip to toe, maybe. If he thought about the math sideways. Either way it meant his hands had been tied above his head, not tightly enough to totally support the weight of the steel, and as he'd been there for about nine or so hours now, his feet were starting to complain.
He closed his eyes, easing his weight onto his right foot to give his 'automail' a break, and let his head fall to the left. He didn't need to look to know that Franklin was sitting there – sitting, the spoiled little shit – in a wooden chair, restrained in a far more traditional manner. Both his hands and his ankles had been tied to the chair, and his hands had been shoved into cotton gloves to prevent him from scribbling an array of any kind into the armrests. While he was certain the kid was more comfortable, he didn't look any happier than Ed felt. His eyes were focused inward, and he was clearly thinking very hard about something.
Hopefully about velocity, mass, and the speed of light. Gate be damned, Stone be damned, he could not go back in time.
Which was rather unfortunate, seeing as both he and Sorn were now prisoners of a war he wasn't sure Amestris even knew it was fighting yet.
Ed took a deep breath, centering his head once more to glare at the other three people in the room. They were the reason he hadn't shattered the tent pole with his armored leg and taken off – they had guns, and they were alert.
Maybe ecstatic was the right word, actually. There was a constant influx of soldiers in and out to gape openly and mutter excitedly to their colleagues. Oddly, no one had really mistreated them, even gloating had been kept to a minimum. He felt more like a present that had fallen into a greedy child's lap than a member of the enemy's army.
And that worried him more than he wanted to admit. Surely Mustang wouldn't capitulate, even for two State Alchemists. Even for him. He wasn't worth West City and if the Cretians thought differently, they were in for a disappointment.
And Ed knew who'd they take that disappointment out on.
The tent flap was knocked back with an odd crackling noise, and Edward sharpened his attention as the uniforms came in. He was well aware they were being held in a meeting tent of some kind – obviously not the general's tent, but it was sizable enough to admit a small crowd. The number of stars on those uniforms told him they were more than just enlisted.
And even if he didn't recognize the pattern of stripes and the ranks, he knew immediately who was in charge. The sharp salutes were a ready indication of highest rank, and once he got a good look at her, he understood why.
She was tall, possibly as tall as Al, with pale hazel eyes, the high cheekbones that seemed to be a characteristic of the Cretians, and brown hair so dark it was almost black. Her forest green uniform was crisp and clean, no sign that she was on the campaign trail, and she ignored her aides entirely, striding past the salutes as if she was unaware.
She went straight for Franklin.
Edward craned his head a little, trying to get a better look, but she merely picked up Franklin's chin, tilting his head up to study him. "Green eyes. What a pity." Her voice was brisk and flat, but she released his chin gently, and Edward saw that Sorn hadn't resisted in the slightest.
"Call for Specialist Sapud," she ordered over her shoulder, in the same tone, and one of the guards hastened out of the tent. The crackle of the flap seemed quite loud in the silence after his departure, and once that was done, Franklin seemed to be of no more interest to her. As she turned on him, Edward noted that her eyes were quite intense and alive, almost unnervingly so in such an expressionless face. She didn't touch him, and after a quick once-over that focused on his automail she gave him no more attention. "Report."
Of course. She was the general of an attacking army, one that had just been delayed a full day. As far as she was concerned, they were two enemy soldiers, nothing more than a bargaining chip at best and dead weight at worst.
One of the men – many stripes, few stars – stepped forward and saluted smartly. "Reports from Central have confirmed General Armstrong has left Central and headed north, sir. All train routes have been altered in the last twenty hours to facilitate supply transfer toward Drachma." The man stepped back, and another came forward to take his place.
"The advance force reports a single patrolman was spotted just outside of the reported HQ in West City, sir. There is no evidence of increased military activity or reports of any influx of military supplies into the city in the past two weeks."
Edward couldn't keep a look of slight surprise from crossing his face. Calling off the 'fire drill' Sorn had set up was one thing, but Mustang hadn't done anything besides stage the great Amestrian/Drachma fake-out? Then his stomach sank. Maybe Tolya had decided not to play ball, and if it was a choice between losing West or stopping Drachma . . .
The second man hesitated. "Nidler has identified one of the enemy alchemists, General. The one with the automail-"
"Is the Full Metal Alchemist," she interrupted. "I gathered. Thank you, commanders."
Nidler must be the name of her alchemist. Though Ed was pretty sure she'd brought more than one. She was declaring war on a country with a fully militarized unit of alchemists, after all. It only made sense she'd learn the heavy hitters, and of course the 'automail' was a dead giveaway. Assuming they didn't try to take it off . .
The general sighed quietly, clasping her hands behind her back before turning back toward him. "General Terese Enora. The pleasure is yours, I'm sure. Are you prepared to negotiate the complete and unconditional surrender of Amestris?"
Edward cocked his head to the side, letting some of his amusement show. "Unfortunately, I have been stripped of my military rank for an impending court martial." The last time he'd used that excuse on a rather fearsome female general it had worked, after all.
This time was no different. She looked neither amused nor offended, and inclined her head slightly. "That is unfortunate," she agreed. They stared at each other mutely, the general apparently lost in thought, and just when he decided some kind of quip was in order the tent flap crackled open to reveal the guard, freshly returned with an enlisted.
"Specialist Sapud, reporting as ordered, sir!"
Hah. Specialist Spud. He even looked potato-like, with small, piggish eyes set too close together and a shapeless, lumpy body. Still, he moved as though he knew how to carry himself, and the general motioned at Franklin without abandoning her absent study of him. "Is that your informant, specialist?"
Edward broke their little staring match to glance at Franklin, who had suddenly looked up in alarm. It turned to resignation a second later, and the potato stepped forward, reaching out a flat hand, like he meant to lay it across Franklin's forehead to take his temperature. A moment later, the potato spun on his heels, saluting sharply. "Yes, General sir!"
"I was afraid of that," she murmured. "Dismissed." The potato saluted again and scuttled out, and the same all-encompassing silence returned. Even the general's advisors seemed to be holding their breath, and Ed wondered if perhaps their little delay had done more damage to the Cretian plans that he'd originally thought.
Their trusted informant had just been caught trying to hold them off, after all. Even with such damning intel, she was being cautious. They could use her paranoia to delay things further, if they played their cards right . . . Edward tried to catch Franklin's eye, but the boy seemed suddenly intent on the flap that had since closed. He seemed a little more present than he had before, as if he'd just realized the situation he was in.
The situation they were both in.
"There's only one viable option," Franklin said suddenly, and with far more authority than he had any right to. "Use us to buy Creta's way out of this war."
Edward carefully didn't change his expression. He'd never played games like this with Franklin, but he was willing to go along if the other still had a card up his sleeve.
"Ah, the whelp speaks," Enora murmured, turning to give Franklin an almost fond look. The change was instant, and Edward realized with a jolt that she hadn't been paying any more attention than Franklin had been. And now she was. "And why should I do that, my little councilor?"
Franklin's eyebrows twitched. "Because you can pass it off as a border skirmish," he answered, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "You must have realized by now that you've been misled. That the information I gave to you was false. Didn't you wonder why none of your assassins were successful?" The boy shrugged, as much as he was able. "It was unfortunate that we were caught, but not entirely unexpected. The Prime Minister is fully aware of the situation. West City has been waiting for you."
Ed schooled his features and turned over those statements in his head. If she believed she'd been fully duped, then Sorn was right. They'd be released as a gesture of goodwill and to avoid Amestris' retaliation. Which was probably why they hadn't been roughed up while they waited. Too bad she'd spent the time to get her own intel.
Too bad Mustang had cancelled the damn fire drill. It would have backed up Sorn's story perfectly.
Enora smiled indulgently at Franklin. "The creativity of youth," she murmured, and this time her group of military advisors guffawed, also with surprisingly sincerity. "Why were you in our path?"
Edward debated taking over. He was quite excellent at lying, though he was beginning to think he'd met his match. And considering how much trouble his last fib had gotten him – and Mustang – into, it wasn't like he could do much worse.
"I wasn't convinced you'd move before we faked Mustang's death," he admitted, and her amusement faded as she turned to regard him. "Call it a border patrol of our own, if you will."
"I see." She bowed her head in thought a moment, then turned back to the party that had followed her in.
"You didn't really think it would be a visible fortification?" Franklin laced his tone with enough arrogant skepticism to stop her without seriously pissing her off. "We knew you had spies in the city proper. What would be the point if you were given prior warning?"
It was the best attempt at a save the kid could make, but Ed wouldn't have bought it in the general's place.
"When they give you the truth, notify me," she told the first commander that had spoken, and turned without another word. Just before she passed under the tent flap, she paused, her back to Edward, and studied Sorn a moment. "Do not harm my little councilor."
"I wouldn't dream of it, general," the commander replied, almost sounding affronted, and Edward raised an eyebrow. What the hell was so special about the kid-
Oh.
The commander gave him a glare for his surprised expression, and General Enora followed it, turning back to Edward. "You will find we do things differently in Creta," she told him coldly. "We don't send whelps to war." Then a bit of the chill left her voice. "You are living proof of how truly cruel it is, and I am sorry for what has become of you."
Then she was under the tent flap and gone.
Edward blinked again, feeling as if the world had just tilted three degrees. That was without a doubt the weirdest conversation he'd ever had as a prisoner.
At least now it looked like things were going to proceed in a more familiar fashion.
All of her staff but the first commander followed, and soon the tent was much less crowded. The commander gave him a once-over before he turned to one of the guards.
"Get Nidler. We can't do anything with him trussed up like that. And notify Luis the general has given her permission."
Edward kept his expression neutral as the commander gave him one more look. "Alternately, you can answer questions like a civilized human being," he offered. "If you're able."
Ouch. So because he had been a child in the military, he was now less than a civilized human being? Then again, there was a reason even her own citizens called State Alchemists dogs. It shouldn't be surprising that the reputation was that much worse in Creta, who had seen heavy losses even before Pride had become Fuhrer.
"Depends. What do you want to know?"
The man eyed him. Unlike his general, he was much easier to read. "Why did you attack?"
"We defended. You attacked."
"What were you planning to do?"
The truth, in this case, would sound like a lie. And it was probably better not to mention a Stone at all. "We were on a routine patrol. I didn't think-"
"So the answer is no." The commander's voice was hard. "You do enjoy wasting time, don't you. Perhaps Luis can waste some of yours."
- x -
Alphonse Elric fished for the watch in his pocket, but before even half of it had cleared the fabric of his trousers he was waved aboard.
"Please hurry, major-"
With a hiss the engine lurched forward, wheels spinning futily on the rails before they got a good grip, and Al realized the corporal wasn't kidding. He grabbed the iron handle of the traincar with his right arm, swinging himself onto the lowest step even as it started moving. The corporal reached out to grab his other arm before he saw the sling poking out from beneath his jacket, and he pulled his assistance back just in time.
"Thanks!" Al said breathlessly, and he meant it. Being addressed incorrectly notwithstanding, getting hauled onto a moving train by the shoulder he'd dislocated was not his idea of a pleasant way to spend the next several hours.
"I'm surprised they didn't send you north, sir," the corporal added as he stepped back as far as the tiny platform would allow. Al nodded his thanks again, sidestepping the man to access the door to the car.
"I'm sure I'll be heading there shortly." No sense in not keeping up Mustang's charade, even on a train that was probably completely full of military personnel, thus not Russell Tringum. Still, it was the last train out toward Jannai, the same train he'd taken earlier that week. All it meant was that Russ had probably caught the one before.
Maybe it meant that he could get a few hours of sleep. It was still pretty early in the evening, but he was wiped and he knew he could use it.
He proceeded into the car, noting the looks from the rows and rows of soldiers. The moment his chain was noticed a murmur went up, and Al winced as he thought of what this was going to do to Roy's proclamation of 'I won't send alchemists to the front lines.'
Well, at least he'd added that he would if a city was about to fall. And if Franklin was prevented from transmuting his army, it was a real threat. He would be surprised if Mustang hadn't sent alchemists, just in case. To be completely honest, in the grasslands, Mustang himself would have been a good choice, but Al was pretty sure after the Irving incident that Hawkeye was never going to let that happen again.
When all this was said and done, he'd need to sit and have a talk with her. She hadn't . . . quite been herself since Irving. He saw her infrequently, so it was hard to pin down, but there was something just slightly different about her. With that mental note firmly made, he passed into the next car, stuffed full of supplies. Rations, blankets, tents, all manner of non-dangerous supplies.
Good place to take a nap.
Al eyed the pile of blankets speculatively before deciding against it. If he was younger, or his shoulder didn't hurt quite so much, definitely. But he wasn't, and it did, and hiding from the military was something he didn't need to do anymore. Besides, the civilian car was likely to be as empty as the previous train's had been. He'd probably have a nice bench all to himself.
With that thought in mind, he passed to the next car, sliding open the door and stepping inside quickly amid the suddenly deafening clatter of the car on the ties. He closed it immediately, lest he'd interrupted someone else wanting a nap, and then fully entered the car, looking around.
Roughly in the middle of the otherwise empty car, staring at him with a look of complete disbelief, was Russell Tringum. A shorter head turned at his expression, and Al found himself face to face with Avram Blane.
Well, so much for the nap.
Al grinned with relief he didn't feel, heading down the aisle toward them. There was a third passenger he recognized as Avram's wife, Lily, and she looked almost as surprised as Russ.
To say that he was taken off-guard was an understatement. Russ had started out with at least a six hour lead, so the fact that he was on this train and not the one before . . . maybe the delays had just worked out that way? He'd expected Russ to look like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, but not to see the same expression on the Blanes. Were they aware they were sneaking him out of Central? Or were they just travelling companions by chance? What business had Avram had with Russ in the first place?
A new, uncomfortable thought occurred to Al, and he inspected it from all sides as he approached the party. Nii-san thought Franklin had been getting a hand, that he had a partner. Someone who could have transmuted the chimera. Someone with knowledge of amplifiers and what they could do.
But no, Russell would have had no reason to help Franklin, even if he didn't know why the kid wanted the help. Chimera research wasn't Russ's style. He still preferred plants even to humans, let alone animals. And nothing but Fletcher's death would have been enough to make Russ reconsider.
"Lieutenant Ross is worried," he said without preamble, walking up to them and waving Avram back into his seat. "I'm glad to see you're all right, Russ."
The look of shock was quickly fading into something else, and a little warning bell went off in Al's head. This wasn't just Russ not happy to see him. Something was not right.
Of course something wasn't right. Russ would know he wouldn't let him transmute the remains of his brother. Wouldn't let him transmute a Stone.
"I'm fine," he replied tightly. "Shouldn't you be in the hospital?"
The banter was normal, but there was an underlying tension humming beneath, and even more oddly, he didn't seem to be coddling his ribs at all. He was sitting rod-straight in the seat, which Al knew had to be uncomfortable. He decided to take a seat on the bench across the aisle, turning to face them.
"If Patterson had his way," he remarked easily. "But I told him it was more important to find Franklin before Hakuro did." Assuming the Blanes didn't know Russ's true intentions, the best thing to do would be to put Lily and Avram at ease, and take Russ aside later. He didn't think the other alchemist would hurt them, but god knew he wouldn't be thinking straight in Russ's position, and it was better safe than sorry.
"Al Elric, my boy!" Blane took his right hand again, pumping it enthusiastically. "Forgive me, I didn't recognize you! Dear me, what's happened to your arm?"
Al smiled and nodded his head in greeting to Lily. She looked a little pale, but she smiled in return. "Ah. I fell. And no, it's not as glamorous as it sounds."
"Must have been quite a fall." Avram eyed his shoulder with a practiced eye. "My skills are quite poor in comparison to yours, but would you like me to see what I can do?"
"Oh, thank you, but it's fine. And it was," he agreed ruefully. "Unfortunately, I don't bounce as well as I used to."
Blane nodded knowingly. "The years will do that." He appeared completely at ease, his brown traveling suit neat, and it struck Al as out of place. Lily seemed just as tense as Russell- "Did I hear you say you were still looking for my wayward apprentice?"
Alphonse nodded. "I think Hakuro's getting a little antsy about the lack of progress," he admitted in a lower voice, as if he was letting them in on a secret. "I'd just rather another alchemist was around when we find him, that's all."
Avram inclined his head appreciatively. "Where are you heading, then? Any new ideas?"
"I was thinking Jannai, actually," Al shifted so that he was slightly more comfortable on the bench. He and Avram looked like the only two not ready to jump out of their skin, and Russell couldn't have looked more disinterested in the conversation if he'd tried. "It seems to me that at some point he's going to get tired of running and look for something familiar. The town loves him, and they'll move to keep him safe. And that's fine, like I said. I just want to make sure there's someone on his side when he's ready to come out of hiding."
Blane nodded again. "Yes, much the same reasoning I made, admittedly. And I've had no better luck finding the boy than you." He blew out his cheeks. "I appreciate your concern, really I do. Did something make you think Frank would seek out Jannai sooner than later?"
Somehow the questions weren't as subtle as they'd been before, and while Blane still seemed personable he was missing that quality that he'd had the first time, the quality that had reminded him of sensei. Or maybe Madelyne Price had made him paranoid. Either way, it seemed as if the questions had another motive. That and Russell's stiff posture . . . just what the hell had Russell told them?
"Not really. Just kinda hoping, I guess," he half laughed. "Though now that I've run into Russ, our doctor will kill us if I don't drag him back in the next week or so to get a checkup." It looked like the only way to get some answers was to threaten their status quo, and if Russ had been hiding the injuries from Blane, maybe exposing them would make it a little easier to extract Russ without making a huge fuss.
"I doubt he'll get the chance," Blane murmured, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, and the warning bell chimed a bit more insistently. "Russell and I have entered a business arrangement, actually. Oh, but I forget myself!" He patted Lily's knee fondly. "She does so hate shop talk. We'll go find something to eat, would either of you like us to bring something back?"
Lily didn't protest in the slightest, rising as well, and Al nodded politely. So Avram didn't want to be in the middle of this argument. That was a good sign. But he didn't look concerned or surprised about the announcement of Russell's injury . . . "I'm sorry, Mrs. Blane, I'm afraid I forgot-"
"That's fine, dear, please don't worry! It's just, trains make me nervous," she explained hurriedly as Avram took her hand. "You two take your time. We'll be right back."
Russell just continued to look tense and unhappy as the two scooted past him to the aisle, and Al raised his eyebrow at him when Blane's back was turned. Russ gave him a flat, unfriendly look, and when the Blanes were nearly to the back door, Avram turned.
"Quietly, if you please," he added.
And then there was a clap. And then the bench was moving beneath him.
Al didn't so much as yelp, bringing his own hands together. It was awkward, the sling interfered a great deal, and before he could do anything else he was entirely cocooned in leather and metal.
It was child's play to transmute it away, but Russ had obviously used it to prevent him from seeing what else he was doing. Al instead turned the leather into armor, securing a steel cage around himself only a scant second before something slammed into it with enough force to bend the metal.
Alphonse brought his fingertips together and transmuted half the sling away, just to free up the arm. He regretted it pretty quickly, but the shoulder be damned, that last attack could have seriously injured him. Russ wasn't playing. It also had sounded like Blane had told him to do it, which didn't make any sense. It would be Russ using Blane, not the other way around-
"Dammit, Russell, wait!" he shouted through the cage, and with a flash of blue light a window through his armor was transmuted, revealing an angry, pale face. "Wait!" he repeated, already preparing to transmute out the floor of the car when Russ glanced away, back down the aisle.
"Hang on," he muttered, then with an absent clap he transmuted the rest of Al's barricade back into a bench. Al tensed, shoulder aching from the wrenching it had received, waiting for another attack. Instead, Russ turned back to him, expression still flat and angry.
"You have some astoundingly shitty timing, Elric-"
Al gave him an incredulous look. "What the hell is going on? You skip town without a word, ditch Maria-"
"It's a good thing I did, too," he snarled back quickly. "She'd be dead if I hadn't." He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Dammit."
Al eased his arm against his side, looking quickly up and down the traincar. Blane must have left them to their fight, as he was nowhere to be seen. "Russell-"
"Blane put Sorn up to making a Philosopher's Stone." It was clipped but sure. "He told me himself. If Sorn fails to deliver one, he wants me to transmute one instead."'
"And you went along with-"
"He says the town'll be wiped out if anything happens to him," Russell growled. Then he clapped his hands together, turned his back on Al, and unnecessarily loudly transmuted the bench behind him. "He's got a partner, someone he's communicating by phone with. I figured you'd have caught up to us before now. Where the hell have you been?"
Al just stared at him, mind whirling. "Looking for you! . . . .wait, you wanted me-"
"I left you all the clues in the world," he cut him off, still angry. With himself, Al realized slowly. "You're not an idiot, Al, and neither am I. Shit," he added, to no one in particular.
Al held up a hand, listening to the train rattling over the tracks, trying to digest what he was hearing. Blane put Franklin up to transmuting a Stone. Okay, that wasn't outside of the realm of possibility, particularly not after what he'd just seen and heard. An entire town dying if anything happened to him . . . that could be anything from this partner destroying the town to an empty threat.
And he was pretty sure even if he asked nicely, Avram wouldn't tell him. They'd either have to call him on it or let him go. Not to mention the information, as shocking as it was, didn't change the original reason he'd stepped onto that train.
It was a moment before Al decided to take a page from his brother's book, and just be blunt. Avram would expect the fight to be short, and they didn't want to be caught having a conversation. "So you don't . . . have Fletcher's remains?"
All the blood drained out of Russell's face. ". . . no. What . . . did you think-"
"Russ . . . we know the body in the morgue is a doll."
Somewhat unexpectedly, Russ just shook his head impatiently. "I know. I know an alchemist is involved in this, Al. Are . . you saying you think it's Blane?"
Al eyed him, trying to judge sincerity. "Russ, if you didn't take the body, then how could you know-"
"Hakuro's men aren't as tight-lipped as Mustang's," he growled, but Al didn't feel the least bit guilty. It had not been something Russ needed to know, because it would have made him go out and do something stupid-
Just like this. "No, Russ, I don't think it's Blane. I thought it was you. If you weren't considering human transmutation, then what the hell are you doing on this train?"
Russell Tringum looked away, toward the far door. He hadn't regained much of his color, and Al felt a small stab of remorse. He had forgotten why he never took pages from his brother's book. "He came to me the day after . . . the day after Fletch died. He told me that if I helped him find Franklin the three of us could perform a successful resurrection."
Al closed his eyes. "Russ, you know-"
"Of course I know!" It was hurt and angry and everything Russ still hadn't dealt with. "The question was why Franklin's teacher would approach me, of all people, at that time. He wanted something, and I know that – that whatever happened to Fletch has something to do with all of this!"
Al's eyes snapped open as he sensed an attack, but it was just Russ's hand slicing through the air.
"I have to know, Al. I have to know what happened to him. And I thought Blane was going to lead me in the right direction." The muscles in his jaw slid beneath his scruffy cheek. "If you'd have caught us on the last train, we'd be fine, but Blane made a call just before we left. I assume it was to tell his partner when we were due to arrive in Jannai."
So if they confronted Blane now, unless they caught the partner at the station, they were going to find out exactly what the stout alchemist meant.
"Also, his wife, Lily? I don't think she's his wife." Russ clapped his hands together, working another quick and noisy transmutation. "Her bracelet is really a delivery mechanism for some liquid. I don't know what. Poison, explosive . . . no telling until I get a better look at it."
Bracelet . . . Al remembered it, flashing in the afternoon light as she'd set out plates. "She said it was a wedding gift from her husband-" Obviously not, if he wasn't really her husband. And she'd looked so grateful that he'd stayed for dinner . . . shit, he should have been paying better attention.
"He calls her an insurance policy."
Al frowned. If he really did have the whole damn town, what could one more person do? Was she possibly related to someone? "Insurance policy against what?"
Russ shook his head. "I don't know. We didn't have a lot of time to discuss it."
Al had more questions, but they could wait. "I'll hide in the supply car. Tell him you killed me and dumped me out on the tracks."
Russ shook his head. "No. You just walked through a car full of soldiers. If you don't get off the train, it'll be noticed immediately, and he'll think of that." Russ clicked his teeth together. "But taking you prisoner is too risky. You're an alchemist, so the bracelet is pointless, but he'll find another way–"
"Or you," Al pointed out. "The minute you get off this train you're as good as she is." Well, that pretty much eliminated all the options. "Look, better risk me than an entire town."
Russell hesitated. "Al, you're the only other person that knows what's going on. If we can't determine who the partner is . . ."
Then they'd be held captive for nothing, or even possibly forced to transmute a Stone. Not that he would, not even for a town-
Maybe it would be transmuting the town. In fact, Russell was right. There was nothing saying that if Blane was willing to sacrifice Jannai if caught, that he wasn't willing to sacrifice it now. He really was as good as caught. Even if they both went with him, there was a record of Al at least arriving in Jannai. If he didn't contact Mustang, there would be a search.
And Ed wouldn't stop looking, not until he found him.
"It's a couple hours till we hit Jannai. Think we can beat it out of him before then?"
Russ gave him a measuring look. "I thought you'd never ask."
Heh. Al gave the car a once-over. "How are your ribs?"
In answer, Russ walked over to one of the walls and transmuted a door. The wind was immediate, and quite a bit colder than Al had anticipated. Russell stuck his head out, apparently determining how to move to the roof of the car, then he leaned back in and nodded.
"Keep Avram away from Lily. I'll take care of the bracelet."
Al hesitated. Considering it was only a bracelet, if it was that easy to get off she'd have done it by now. Then again, if it was so delicate that jostling it would cause it to go off, the train ride should have done it-
Maybe that's why trains made her nervous.
"Are you sure?" He hadn't looked that closely, but it had seemed to be an intricate mess of silver and gems and if it had been transmuted, there was really no telling if setting it off would blow them all to kingdom come.
"Yeah. Just be careful with him."
Don't kill him.
Al nodded, heading off down the aisle, and shortly after Russ crawled onto the outer wall, the door transmuted itself away. It was almost like letting nii-san take to the roof of the cars on their very first mission, long before they'd actually been under Mustang's command.
Only this time it seemed a little less like a game. If Blane didn't give up his partner, they could be dooming a lot of people.
Dooming a lot of people that might already be past saving. Arei, Rachel, Zach and Bert . . . clearly they had no idea what Blane was threatening to do to them. They trusted him.
He'd trusted him. And now he couldn't even remember why.
Al waited another moment, just to give Russ a head start, then proceeded down the aisle. He cradled his arm tightly as he did, and as much as he could as he ducked between cars. The more Blane thought he had the advantage the better.
And he did. Al wasn't even sure what kind of alchemy the man studied. He said he wasn't as powerful as Franklin, but if the bracelet was something he'd transmuted and not manufactured, it meant he was plenty skilled, even if he couldn't pull off large transmutations.
If he'd been studying the plague, maybe he was a whiz with chemicals, like Irving senior had been. Or maybe-
Maybe he was just a whiz with diseases. Maybe he'd saved it, to release it on the town again. No one would think it odd that the same illness that struck a town would resurface even two decades later. Viruses could survive for years on simple surfaces like walls and ceilings, or a bacteria that could have been accidentally tucked into a can of beets or anything else that could be sitting on a pantry shelf.
Al entered the next car warily, eyeing what appeared to be empty benches. It was the second civilian car in the twenty-car train, nestled closer to the engine than the caboose. If memory served, the food car would be the one behind the fuel car, so that everything requiring coal or oil would be contained in the same place.
It would also be the worst possible place to have an alchemical battle. If Blane didn't care about Jannai, he wouldn't care about the train either. On the plus side, the engineer would have access to communications, so they could call ahead to Jannai and warn them. Al walked up the aisle slowly, using his cradled arm as an excuse to have his hands close together.
But he walked from one end of the car to the other, and found nothing. No one hiding.
He paused between the cars, transmuting a tiny flag on the front of the car he'd just left as a signal to Russ. Then he proceeded cautiously into the next car.
Blane seemed unsurprised to see him, sipping away on what looked like a steaming cup of coffee. Lily's back was to Al, and she didn't turn at the sound of the door closing. The waitress wiping the counter at the end of the car flashed him a polite smile. Otherwise the car was empty.
"I figured it would be you," Avram murmured conversationally. "They say you transmuted a tornado when you were only a child."
"I transmuted a Philosopher's Stone at nearly the same age," he lied glibly, making an obvious effort to release his arm. His shoulder was throbbing with the weight it was having to partially support, but he was pretty sure the stuff Patterson gave him would still let him move it around a little. "I understand you're both in the market for one."
He got a bemused grin. "You really expect me to believe you killed our friend Mr. Tringum?"
Al shrugged his good shoulder. "He'll sleep it off." He glanced openly at Lily, who still hadn't moved. He hadn't already poisoned her, had he? "You might want to go keep an eye on him, Mrs. Blane. Avram and I need to talk shop."
"Lily will stay exactly where she is." The voice was a little cooler. "Did Russell get around to telling you what would happen if anything became of me?"
Al raised an eyebrow. A little redirection never hurt, particularly if he couldn't get Lily away from him that easily. "You mean Russ wasn't working for you willingly?"
"I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, boy. Get in my way, and Jannai will disappear off the map. Permanently."
Al approached until Avram indicated he was close enough. "And I'm supposed to take your word for it."
"You are."
"Why haven't you asked me to transmute your Stone for you?"
Avram sipped his coffee. "Unless my colleagues have managed to kill your brother, I can't think of a reason you would."
It was amazing how quickly his blood could run as cold as the air outside. Blane was baiting him, and he knew just how to do it. "My brother can take care of himself," he managed, as calmly as he could.
The older man made a noncommittal noise. "I'm sure Russell Tringum would have said the same for Fletcher."
Al brought his hands together as he realized his mistake. Blane hadn't been baiting him – he'd been baiting Russell. And his bait was quite effective.
The ceiling crackled with alchemy, but Al ignored it, transforming the table in front of Avram into a wall. He channeled some of the heat of the reaction into the coffee, watching the older man's reaching arm knocked into the air by the wall he was constructing.
But had Avram managed to touch her? And where the hell was his array?
Russ was off the roof and in the car before Al's reaction had completed, and there was an angry shout as the boiling coffee encountered some part of Avram's body. He knew Russ would abandon their previous plan, so he leapt forward for Lily, who had flinched back without a sound and was now cowering in her chair.
"Come with me," he urged her, grabbing her shoulder with his good hand as another alchemical reaction lit up the car. The waitress, who had been behind the counter on the far end, was nowhere to be seen, and Al hoped she was hiding behind the register.
Lily jerked away from him, cowering further towards the wall even as Al heard a pained shout and identified it as Russell.
"Russ-"
"Stop!" Lily sounded petrified. "Stop! Leave him alone!"
Russell yelled again, this time with more difficulty, and then something happened that Al did not expect – the woman launched herself at him. He caught one of her hands, but with his arm in half a sling, he was as handicapped as he'd been when Russ had grabbed him. Her hand latched onto his left shoulder none too gently, and Al couldn't help an exclamation of his own.
God, it hurt. What Patterson had done to him in therapy was pleasant compared to how clearly he could feel each of her fingertips digging into his shoulder. His world was suffused with dim, and Al realized he had almost passed out. He shoved her away instinctively, landing hard on the floor of the traincar, and couldn't help another cry of pain. He gasped in a few deep breaths, blinking quickly to clear his vision, and then he saw Avram's livid face right above his own.
Al grit his teeth as the other alchemist reached out for him. Third time would be the charm; he couldn't stop both the other alchemist's hands and he knew he was dead if he let the other touch him. Since his arms were no good, he relied on his next favorite limbs. He braced his back on the floor, planted both his feet in the center of Avram's chest, and shoved.
Blane had good reflexes, and very nearly caught one of Al's ankles as he went flying backwards, but Alphonse had kicked him too hard and too fast. He crashed into the wall of the traincar, skidding down as he fought to breathe, and Al rolled painfully to his right, getting to his knees. He brought his hands together, ready to use the iron in the frame of the traincar to create another wall if necessary, and he saw Blane's hand stray to his coat pocket.
The array.
Al touched the ground, enclosing Blane in a cube of iron as another reaction started, and he was faintly surprised when his own reaction completed, and there was a neat iron box where an alchemist had once been sitting. He watched it a second, waiting for Blane to transmute it away, but instead, all he heard was a faint pop.
He'd trapped the alchemist in there with his own reaction. If he died-
"Shit," Al muttered, letting the iron melt back into the floor. Blane slumped bonelessly as the support gave way, and with that thick tweed jacket there was no sign of blood, no sign of what he might have done. Al watched him for another several seconds, getting slowly to his feet, then the car jerked hard as the emergency brakes were applied.
Lily's scream was nearly as shrill as the brakes, and Al stumbled hard. Blane took advantage, popping up like a jack in the box and grabbing for him. The quick stop had thrown him sideways, onto his left side, and Al used it his forward momentum, quickly flipping his weight even as he fell. He managed to land on his back more than his shoulder, gripping his left arm hard as the shock of landing reverberated through him. The tumble took him out of Avram's range, and when he came back up he transmuted every bit of thick cotton tweed on that half of the traincar into paper.
The brown traveling suit evaporated in a splash of confetti, leaving the startled alchemist stumbling forward in his boxers, overshirt, socks and shoes. With no pocket to support them, a handful of coins fell pleasantly onto the shuddering floor, and Al came forward quickly as the train finally groaned to a complete stop, kicking the coins – and the arrays that were drawn on their backs – out of Blane's reach.
The alchemist watched him with narrowed eyes. "You'd really sacrifice two hundred so easily-"
Al panted, holding his left arm tightly against him. It hurt worse now than it had when she'd gone after it, and while he could hear her sobbing behind him he didn't dare take his eyes off Avram.
"Russ?"
Lily sobbed harder into the silence, and Al heard the door at the far end of the car open.
"What the samhill-"
The engineer. "Get some soldiers in here," he ordered harshly, still not taking his eyes off Avram. The second he did, he knew the man was going to go for his arrays. "Russell."
Avram's eyes flicked to Al's right side, then back again. "He's killed her," he said sharply. "In four or so minutes the process will be irreversible."
Of course. Meaning that they'd have to let him go or Lily's death would be on their hands. "Russ-"
" . . . fine, m'fine." It was grunted, and Al touched his right fingertips to his left very gently, crouching down. Avram flinched, but the transmutation ran under his feet harmlessly, melting the coins into a lump. As an afterthought, he completed another circle, and watched with satisfaction as Blane's shirt and socks tied themselves together.
The older man crashed to the floor with a curse, and Al straightened, glaring down at him. Then he decided any words on his part were meaningless, and he turned dismissively, taking in the rest of the traincar.
Lily Blane was curled against the wall, her wrist clutched to her stomach, and she was rocking back and forth, sobbing. About three feet away Russell was on his knees, arms wrapped around his chest. He was paler than Al had seen him, and his breathing was shallow.
"Russ-"
He looked up, licking his lips before speaking. "It . . . wasn't silver."
"No, it wasn't." He could hear the sneer in Avram's voice. "So when you tried to remove it from her wrist, you drained it right into her-
"It was titanium." Al realized that Russell was ignoring Blane utterly, and talking to him. "Coated in silver. The titanium was perforated." Painfully, the alchemist uncurled himself, and Al could see he was clutching the bracelet in his hand. It seemed whole, and the gems didn't glisten as they once had. "Capsules . . . cellulose. Continuously breaking down, that was the timer."
Russell staggered to his feet, and Al was shocked to see blood on his shirt. Right side, exactly where the gash was. He must have reopened the wound fighting.
"You catch it in time?"
Tringum gave him a dirty look, and Al glanced again at Lily. She didn't seem hurt, just terrified, and the waitress was picking her way through the damage to her. She'd be better comfort than either of them, considering -
Considering she'd been living with Avram all this time. Hadn't he said something about a son of his own . . . ?
Al instead went to help Russ, but the blonde shook him off, painfully straightening his back. He held up the intact bracelet, watching Avram's shocked face.
"I'm not . . . a healing alchemist," he ground. "My specialty is plants. I heal on the side." He offered Al the bracelet, so he took it, turning it over in his hands. Russ was right. The wire appeared to be silver, but a simple resonance transmutation revealed the underskeleton of titanium, mottled with regular holes. Anyone who thought it was silver would pull the coating, and the contents of the gems would mix and be deposited directly into the body.
The gems themselves had been significantly thickened, and Al went ahead and replaced the cellulose with the titanium that had been embedded under her skin. Obviously whatever was in the gems didn't react to titanium, and that way there was no more timer, and no more danger.
Russ was ignoring him and lecturing Avram. "Plants are excellent filters. To harvest the purified contents, you have to strain them through the structure of the plant. It means you always have to transmute to determine what's there, first, since a plant is more than simple sugars." It also explained how he'd been able to transmute such a delicate, complex structure so easily. Plants were far more complex. The human body was far more complex.
Blane's surprise turned icy. "And what of Jannai?"
"Not our call," Al snapped, and he looked up as the near door slid open, pouring Amestrian guards into the car. There were guns, but a pocketwatch easily trumped them, and then Blane was being bound properly. Al let them do their work after telling the sergeant that their enemy was an alchemist, and he walked over to Russell, who was still clutching his side tightly.
"You okay?" he asked in a low voice. Russ nodded, the muscles on his neck standing out prominently.
"Bastard knew just where to hit me." He shook his head and swallowed noisily. "I don't know when I gave it away."
There was a brief scuffle by the door, and Al turned quickly, ignoring an ache in his neck. Blane was struggling in the soldier's grasp, and his eyes, when they met his, were blazing.
"Release me or Jannai rots!"
"I said it's not our call," Al repeated in clipped tones. "The Prime Minister will determine the best course of action." But inside, his gut was roiling, from both the pain and the possible consequences of what they'd done. They needed to get on the radio immediately, send soldiers to evacuate the town and update the Prime Minister. Of course, the nearest soldiers were probably on the train-
"We will continue nonstop to Jannai," he said without preamble, turning on the engineer. The older, scraggly-haired man had seen the watch, so he jumped up immediately and headed back for the engine. "I'll need to borrow your radio in a moment, but call ahead to the station, and tell them we had to clear debris from the tracks." They could probably evacuate the entire town on this very train.
"Yessir," the engineer replied, without a trace of sarcasm, and Al gave him a tight smile. So much for letting Mustang choose the course of action-
But Avram wasn't finished. "And what about Fletcher?"
Al heard Russ's breathing still, and he turned back on the bound alchemist. "What about him?"
Blane's smile was twisted. "I resurrected him."
Russell started forward, so obviously murderous that one of the soldiers stepped directly into his path.
"Major, sir-"
"Get the hell out of my way," Russell snarled, and Blane laughed.
"Do you know how to create a homunculus, Tringum? I do." The soldier holding him shook him sharply, but Blane refused to be silenced. "And your brother is going to rot where I've left him, unable to die, for the next four hundred years."
With a wordless cry Russell threw himself at Avram, and Al was right behind him. He managed to pull one of Russell's arms back, preventing him from transmuting anything, but considering how hard Russ was fighting him, he suspected the elder Tringum had planned to tear Blane apart with his bare hands.
"WHERE IS HE?! WHERE IS HE-"
Never in his life was Alphonse so glad of the presence of soldiers. They acted quickly and deliberately, getting the prisoner out of the traincar while three of them held Russell back. They tried to be careful of his ribs but Russ was past that pain, screaming incoherently long after Avram was out of sight.
"Russ! Russell, listen to me, he's just fucking with you-"
"NO!" Russell tried to pull himself away from the three enlisted hanging onto him, and they rather stupidly let him. Al held up his right hand, close but not touching Tringum, and he was more than surprised when Russ didn't just hit him. "NO, Al! How the FUCK could he know that?!"
Blane had known just where to hit him, had know n that they suspected Fletcher had been transmuted into a homunculus. He even knew how to make one, knew that resurrecting a human would produce one. The question was valid.
If he wasn't involved, how could he possibly know? Had Franklin told him? Because that would mean that Franklin transmuted the doll, and that would mean-
"I don't know, Russ. I don't. But we'll find out, and we can't do that if you kill him." He thought about putting the man in a headlock, just so he could be on the radio and keeping an eye on Russell at the same time. "Calm down. He's not going anywhere. We'll get answers out of him, but not here, okay?"
- x -
Author's Notes: Well, I did it again. I overestimated my ability to be concise. And here I was going to cover the rest of Ed's night and Mustang's as well in this chapter, so . . . I did promise you Patterson, since you asked. :carefully does not look at Silverfox, JChrys, or KageSakura: Guess I should post the other half soon, huh. )
This chapter was long, the next will be much shorter. They're really the same chapter, it's just that anything over ten thousand words seems to give this lovely hosting site problems, and things get cut off. Twenty should be up momentarily. As usual, posted without a beta.
And, on a selfish note, I'm a little worried that I've let you guys down. No one's really said much about time travel as a plot device, and while I think it's a refreshing change, I recognize that this thing is far more long-winded than PAA the original. It's very useful to me to know what you guys like - and also what you don't. If you haven't said much in the past, please consider dropping me a note or review and letting me know how this sequel is comparing to the first one?