Yes, this is a long one. There is a lot of stuff happening all at once.

Thanks again for all your reviews!

Chapter 18

He'd had better nights' sleep in worse places with worse smells and under worse circumstances. At one time, a blanket thrown over a thick pile of straw would have been a luxury. Admittedly, he had never woken up with a baby elephant asleep on one side of him and a tiger curled up on the other.

He had been offered a bed by a few of the circus people, but they were the female performers and he could not be sure that they did not have motives other than hospitality. They seemed disappointed when he declined their offers, which pretty much confirmed his suspicions. He supposed he ought to have been flattered, but he wasn't going to start entertaining notions like that. He was bound to one woman and hers was the only company he craved.

His master had always taught him to keep things in proportion. As absurd as this situation was, it had to be borne patiently. He had to keep the welfare of his family and his people in mind. Like all trials, it would pass. But being separated from his wife and his children struck him deeper than he imagined it would and his heart already ached for them.

Once he got up and began his morning meditative rituals, he would be better prepared to face another day. First, though, he had to actually rise, and he had to do that carefully. He was a guest of these people and their beasts, and he did not want to be a burden to them or worse, harm them. One shoulder was partly wedged against Petal's back, but she was still a baby and a sound sleeper. Snickers, on the other hand, was a predator and might react badly to being disturbed. But as Scar cautiously turned to his side and raised himself up on his elbow, the tiger just cracked open one eye with a brief look of mild annoyance and went back to sleep.

Scar headed for the opening of the tent and found his way blocked by the other tiger, Toodles. She was sprawled on her back, apparently sound asleep, but as soon as Scar drew closer, she flipped onto her belly and into a ready crouch, regarding him with indulgent warning.

"It's early," Scar said in a low voice. "No one would be outside looking for me at this hour."

Toodles, he had been told, was much more serious-minded than her brother. She apparently didn't care how early it was and her yellow-eyed stare didn't waver. Scar yielded the battle to her and turned away from the exit. As genteel and refined as Heinkel claimed she was, Scar had no doubt that she would not hesitate to enforce her self-proclaimed and well-intentioned guard duties. She was beginning to remind him of Naisha.

:0 :0 :0

It would be her only chance. The morning break was twenty minutes long, and if she waited until lunch, she would lose her nerve. Saahad Imir was taking Papa's place as head teacher today, and he was deep in conversation with some of the older students. Naisha was busy too, making sure the youngest children were playing nicely with each other. The rest of the teachers all seemed to be occupied with one group of children or another, or they were talking to each other. Danika kept her eyes on the schoolyard before her while she edged away toward the front gate and slipped through it unseen.

She was perfectly aware that what she was doing was wrong. Papa would probably be angry with her, and so would Mama. So would the teachers. But the faceless specter from her dream the night before still mocked and tormented her, and she would gladly face any punishment meted out to her if she could just see Papa for herself and make sure he was all right.

She had a long way to go. She had to make it all the way up through Wahir and across the stretch of desert to reach the circus. It wasn't going to be easy. It was midmorning and the marketplaces would all be busy. Everyone knew she was supposed to be in school. If anyone noticed her, they might stop her and ask her what she was doing. She could try to come up with a story, but Papa didn't like lying, and she wasn't very good at it, anyway.

She darted behind the weaver's shop, but she was too busy singing while threading her shuttle through the threads on her loom. The baker's wife was singing, too, praising the freshness of the bread she and her husband were selling. The beekeeper set jars of honey out on his counter, and he sang a song of thanksgiving for not getting stung this time. Papa said that when he was little, the marketplace almost sounded like one of Dejan's concerts. Everyone sang to sell their wares and each district had its own tunes. When the Amestrians came, the Ishvalans didn't sing as much, and they sang less and less as time went by. Now they started singing again. Danika liked to think that it was because Papa had made everybody feel safe and happy. That was the way he made her feel. When he wasn't around, nothing felt right.

Dear Ishvala, I know this is kind of bad what I'm doing, but please don't be mad at me. Please don't let anybody stop me. Please just help me find Papa. Then I'll go back to school and study really really hard and be really really good! I promise!

:0 :0 :0

McGraw took a gulp of tea. "Oh, that's good! It's not my usual cup o' joe, but it's good!"

Greggs nodded as he took a bite of warm flatbread drizzled with honey. "Yeah, I gotta say, the grub here isn't too bad. It's about the only thing here that's been any damn good so far."

"I don't know if I can take another night like that," Bates grumbled, inspecting a ripe apricot. "I'm gonna be picking straw outta my shorts for a week!"

"Well, if you wanna walk back to Central, Bates, I'm not gonna stop you," McGraw told him.

Greggs sucked honey off his thumb. "I wonder how long that would actually take."

McGraw frowned at him. "You're not going anywhere, Greggs! You're my photographer."

Greggs shrugged. "Just wondering."

"We're here for the scoop of the year, gentlemen," McGraw said to them firmly. "And I, for one, have no problem with suffering a little discomfort for that."

"Is this really the scoop of the year?" Bates asked in reply. "I mean, honestly!" He lowered his voice. "Does anybody really care about what goes on in this place?"

"A lot of people do," McGraw returned. "Particularly if we can scare up a certain homicidal renegade who's supposed to have disappeared and who nobody seems to have seen. Or so they say." He leaned a little closer to the other two. "Haven't you noticed the same answer we've been getting? It was never actually no, I haven't seen him or there's nobody like that here. It's been sorry, I can't help you."

Greggs thought for a moment then nodded. "Yeah, you're right."

"It's like they're covering their own butts or something, but they don't want to actually lie." McGraw scowled thoughtfully, gazing across the marketplace. "Maybe it's a religious thing, you—"He stopped suddenly and stared at something across the street. "Hey! Wasn't that—"

The other two reporters frowned and peered where he seemed to be looking. "What?"

McGraw set down his cup and moved away from the fountain, then moved back quickly. "It's that kid!" he hissed in a whisper, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "The little girl at the circus last night! She's sneaking along the street up there! Can you see her?"

Bates sucked in air. "Oh, yeah! I just saw her duck behind that barrel!" He stood up. "You wanna go after her?"

"Yeah, but let's take it easy," McGraw replied. "We can't let her know we're on her tail."

"Should we grab one of those rickshaw kids?" Greggs suggested, shouldering his camera bag.

McGraw shook his head. "Not this time. For one thing, they're trying to buffalo us right, left, and center. Plus, we'll be less conspicuous on foot." He adjusted the brim of his fedora and started forward. "Nice and easy, gentlemen."

:0 :0 :0

Imir strolled slowly between two rows of desks where his students had their heads bowed over their tests. He kept an eye out for the heads that were turning to catch a glimpse of what might be on their neighbor's paper. When they first started up the school two years ago, the students were crowded behind long, rough wooden planks for tables. It was territory ripe for cheating. These individual desks, donated by a couple of schools in Central City, were a vast improvement. Granted, they were second hand, and some of them had arrived with a number of crude slogans penned on their undersides which had to be scrubbed or, in some cases, sanded off. His students didn't need any fresh ideas from their Amestrian counterparts. Other than that, they were fine desks, and Imir was certainly not one to quibble. Charity, after all, was a benefit to the giver as well as the receiver.

The sound of a light, hurried footstep from outside drew the priest's attention toward the door. Naisha peered into the room to catch Imir's eye and he nodded to her, moving quietly toward the door. He stepped out to the covered walkway with her and she spoke promptly in a hushed, urgent voice.

"Saahad, did you see Danika during morning break?"

Imir frowned and pulled thoughtfully on his short beard. "I'm sure I did, at the beginning, anyway. Why?"

"Because she's missing!" Naisha replied. "She didn't come in with the other children and she's not in the bathroom and she's not out on the grounds. I've asked all the other teachers and no one else remembers seeing her come back in from morning break!"

"She didn't seem unwell, did she?" Imir asked.

"She looked tired, but so did a lot of the kids this morning. They were all at the circus last night."

"Yes, that's true," Imir said with a nod. "Even my students were still going on about it." He smiled. "It's nice to know that even my jaded teenagers can still be dazzled."

"But Danika's still missing!" Naisha went on, a little impatiently.

"Yes, yes, of course! You know, it's possible that she may have been so upset about missing her father that she needed to go home and simply didn't tell anyone." Imir glanced back through the door of his classroom. "As soon as some of my students finish their test, I could send one of them to see if that's the case."

"Would you, please?" Naisha nibbled anxiously on a fingertip. "I'd go myself, but I don't want to leave Vesya to handle the whole class by herself. She's got a couple of months to go, but I don't want her to get upset and go into labor while I'm gone."

Imir regarded her somberly. "You and me both!"

:0 :0 :0

He had no projects to complete that day, and he'd had a few drinks the night before, so he was treating himself to a late morning. The scion of the noble house of Dreva could be as lazy and slovenly as he liked. Who, after all, did he have to please but himself? That was one of the many advantages of being a bachelor.

To be sure, waking up with a woman beside him would have certain advantages as well, but he was never one to settle. He'd always been particular. "Good enough" was never good enough. To take up another man's leavings would have been repugnant and unacceptable, but no other woman ever quite measured up, before or since. There was his dilemma.

Regret was a guest he seldom entertained. It tended to force its way in the moment it got a foot in the door. Then it would needle and pester him, exposing all the bleak shortcomings of the single life that he refused to acknowledge. He rolled over irritably in his bed, which didn't seem quite as comfortable as it did earlier. Regret could kiss his dusky backside.

"Zhaarad Stanno!"

The carpenter groaned and dragged his pillow over his head. "Go away!" he muttered, not choosing to make the effort to actually be heard.

A rock bounced off one of the carved wooden shutters of the upstairs window. "I know you're up there, you lazy old sinner!"

Stanno threw the blanket aside and pushed himself out of bed. To have his repose disturbed was one thing. To have his handiwork damaged by some miserable punk kid was quite another. And he was not old! He stormed over to the window and flung the shutters open.

"You putrid little demon spawn!" he bellowed to the street below. "The next rock you throw at my house is going straight up your ass! Why aren't you working?"

"Well, that's just it," Atash called up, unconcerned by Stanno's threat. "I've been treating those Ammy reporters like gold, just like you said. I even got 'em breakfast."

Stanno gave a groaning sigh and rubbed his face. "That's wonderful, Atash," he muttered. "You'll make somebody a fine little wife someday."

Atash rolled his eyes. "Then when I came back around to see if they wanted me to pull them anywhere, they gave me the brush off, and not just me either! Yoru and Salar had the same thing happen to them! And not just that, Zhaarad!" the puller went on. "I just saw a bunch of those paperboys heading north out of town."

Stanno frowned slightly. "North? You mean toward the train station?"

Atash shrugged. "The train's not due till tomorrow. So either they've had enough here and they're going to camp out at the station, or they're heading toward the circus. Maybe they want to poke their noses around there in the daylight."

Stanno drummed his fingers on the sill. "Huh. Maybe…"

"Anyway, we pretty much sucked 'em dry!" Atash grinned. "They probably can't afford us anymore."

"Either that or they've caught on to you," Stanno remarked. "So that's what you woke me up for?"

"Uh…yes." Atash seemed a little deflated. "I thought you'd want to know." He scowled. "Besides, it's almost noon and your shop isn't even open, Chieftain of Kanda!"

Stanno flung his arm irritably toward the street. "Just get back to work!"

He moved away from the window, grabbing a shirt from the back of a chair as he passed it. It was passably clean, but he made a mental note to send his laundry over to the widow across the street at the first available opportunity. He pulled the shirt on over his head and found himself facing the mirror that hung on his wall. It was one of a set of cheap mirrors he'd gotten through Havoc's store that he had carved a frame for and marked up. They'd been selling well in Amestris.

He peered closer at the reflection of his face. He was only in his mid-thirties, but it was possible that time and dissipation were beginning to take their toll. Then again, he was still remarkably good-looking, even if he said so himself. Those lines that were starting to form around his eyes just gave him character. He gave himself an encouraging grin and headed out of his bedroom and downstairs. He turned into his small kitchen and made a perusal of the contents of his pantry, which turned out to be somewhat disappointing. He frowned into the can in which he stored his tea, finding only a few scant leaves. When did that happen? He would have to get over to the marketplace sometime today. In the meantime, he would go out for breakfast. He let out a short chuckle at the image of Atash scuttling about like some old baata, fetching and carrying food for those Amestrians.

His smile faded. So what were those reporters up to? As he slipped on his sandals before going outside, a thought started niggling at him. He resented the fact that such thoughts should be visiting him at all. Yes, he had a responsibility to his people. He was chieftain of Kanda, after all. But he didn't feel like getting tangled up in this business any more than he had to. Then again…

He shook his head with annoyance and stepped out into the bright midmorning sun, heading toward the marketplace. Who, he reminded himself, did he have to please but himself?

:0 :0 :0

She was a good girl and a bright student. She was both honored and pleased by being entrusted with this errand by Saahad Imir, having been the first to complete her test. But she was also seventeen, and she had a crush on the blacksmith's apprentice. As she passed through the artisan's quarter near the main marketplace of Kanda, she paused by the forge and her heart fluttered.

There he was, tall, handsome, his muscles glinting with sweat as he raised his hammer to bring it down on the glowing bar of iron. She gave a little jump at the loud clang and the leaping sparks. The young man glanced up and gave her a nod and a smile, his white teeth gleaming brilliantly against the tawny skin of his face.

Then his master stepped out and gave the girl an indulgent look and his apprentice quickly went back to his work. The girl remembered that the blacksmith was Saahad Imir's brother, and her teacher would more than likely hear about her being distracted from her duties. She hurried on her way, but at least she got a smile that really meant something, she was sure!

:0 :0 :0

Winry tipped the watering can over the plants in the garden that adorned the front of the Ruhad house. She gently nudged Mattas, who kept coming over and thrusting his hands under the shower of water and giggling.

"Ed, would you get him, please?" Winry called. "He's going to get soaked and Rada's already finished her washing."

"Come here you!" Ed came up to Mattas with his arms stretched out and the little boy let out a delighted yelp and started to scamper away. But Ed caught him easily and swung him up onto his shoulders. "Now, where's that sister of yours? Let's go get her!"

Ed trotted away after Little Winry, who was busy walking around and around the fountain. Ed set Mattas back on his feet and sat down on the flagstones of the courtyard, letting the two toddlers tackle him. Winry smiled and went back to her watering. She pulled a few weeds from the dirt between the plants and set them in a bucket with the rest of the garden refuse. Rada had spent another morning cleaning the living daylights out of her house, and Winry thought it best to get Ed and the kids out of her way. After a while, she straightened up, rubbing the small of her back and looking across the courtyard. Ed now had a toddler firmly clamped to each calf and was trying to walk. Then Winry saw the approach of an Ishvalan girl, which struck her as slightly out of the ordinary, since school was in session.

The girl came up to the front of the house a little hesitantly but was heartened by the smile Winry gave her.

"Hi, how are you?" Winry greeted her.

The girl gave a little bob of her head. "Hello, Zhaarana. I need to talk to Zhaarana Rada. Is she home?"

Winry glanced toward the house. "She is, but she's kind of busy right now. Is there something I can help you with?"

The girl hesitated only slightly. "Well, maybe. Is Danika here? Did she come home?"

Winry frowned a little and shook her head. "No, she didn't. I've been here all morning and I haven't seen her since she left for school."

The girl looked a little disconcerted. "Oh. Well…I wonder where she's gotten to, then."

"She's not at school?" Winry asked, beginning to grow a bit alarmed.

"No, Zhaarana, she's not," the girl replied. "Saahad Imir sent me to see if she'd gone home."

Winry held up a finger. "Wait right there! I'll go get Rada!" She set down the watering can and hurried into the house. Striding through the front room and down the hallway, she called out, "Rada?" Getting no answer, she went on through the atrium and out to the back yard, where she found Rada hanging laundry.

"Rada, there's a girl here from the school," Winry said immediately. "She was sent to see if Danika was here because they can't find her at the school."

Rada turned and stared at her over a pillowcase stretched between her hands. She didn't seem to register what she had heard at first. Then her features paled under her tan skin. "She's not…" Her mouth stayed open but nothing else came out for a moment. Then she threw the pillowcase back into the basket with the other wet laundry and ran past Winry, who turned to follow her. They went back through the house and out through the front door into the cul-se-sac. Rada glanced around swiftly to light on the schoolgirl.

"Yaza? What is this?" Rada demanded frantically. "Danika's not at school?"

"No, Zhaarana," the girl replied. The gravity of the situation was beginning to dawn on her. "I saw her during morning break," she offered. "That wasn't that long ago. Maybe an hour."

"Oh, God!" Rada covered her face for a moment to try to compose herself.

"Is there anything I can do?" Yaza asked.

Rada didn't answer right away, so Winry spoke up. "You should probably just get back to class. We'll handle things from here."

The girl nodded, and with a final look of concern at Rada, she hurried away.

"What was that all about?" Ed asked, trudging up with the twins still in tow.

"Danika's missing!" Winry told him quickly. "We need to look for her!" She bent down and pried Mattas off Ed's shin. Picking him up and settling him on her hip, she turned to Rada, putting a hand on her shoulder and giving it a gentle shake. "Let's go see if we can find one of the pullers. They might have seen her."

Rada nodded distractedly. "Yes…yes…thank you, Winry!" With a sudden burst of resolve, she collected Little Winry from Ed's other leg and marched away, the two young Amestrians hurrying after her. For a petite woman, she could move pretty quickly. They rounded out of the cul-de-sac and toward the marketplace, where it was most likely for any of the pullers to be. As it turned out, they didn't have to go that far. They came across Atash, who was dozing on the seat of his rickshaw, the shafts propped against the top of a low wall in front of a house. He woke with a start as Rada slapped his knee.

"Atash! Have you seen Danika anywhere?" she nearly snapped at him.

"Huh…what…no!" Atash stared at her for a moment. "No, sorry, Zhaarana."

Rada jerked her head peremptorily toward the shaft handles of the rickshaw. "Get out and take me to the marketplace!"

Atash scrambled to his feet and jumped over the footrest of the rickshaw, gripping the shafts and turning it around. "My feet are like wings, Zhaarana!" he declared. "We'll find her!"

"We'll start looking the other way!" Winry said. "Come on, Ed!" She grabbed his arm and hauled him after her, Mattas still bouncing on her hip. He seemed to think this was great fun.

"Where's the school?" Ed asked as they strode along. "She might just be hiding nearby. Maybe she was bored. I did that a few times."

Winry managed to give him a disapproving look. "I remember! But Danika isn't like that. She wouldn't ditch school. Her father's the headmaster, after all."

Ed shrugged. "Maybe that's a good reason all by itself."

Winry let out a groan. "Oh, honestly, Ed! Maybe you'd do that, but Danika wouldn't!" They came to a cross street and she peered one way, then the other, looking for another puller. "Geez, normally you practically trip over those guys," she muttered. She turned to the right and headed down the street.

"Okay, fine," Ed conceded. "So why would a kid who normally wouldn't do such a thing suddenly decide to skip class?"

"Well, she is going through a hard time right now," Winry said.

"That's true, poor kid," Ed agreed. He shook his head. "That must have been an awful dream last night. She probably—"

He stopped suddenly and Winry had walked a short distance away from him before she realized he wasn't beside her. She turned around and saw the look on his face. "What is it?"

Ed snapped his fingers. "You know what? You remember when she took off while we were at the circus last night? We were all so relieved to find her that nobody asked why she'd gone off in the first place. She must've been looking for her dad! I bet that's where she's headed right now!"

Winry drew in a gasp. "You mean the circus? She'd go out there all by herself?"

"I wouldn't put it past her." An odd smirk pulled at his mouth. "You know, when you think about it, she could have inherited a tenacious streak from her father. Her real father, I mean. She won't rest until she finds Scar."

Winry scowled. "That's an awful thing to say!"

"Not necessarily," Ed replied with a shrug. "If she gets set in the right direction, she could put traits like that to good use."

"Well, she's not doing that right now!" Winry declared, turning around and continuing on her way. "She's just a little thing, Ed! She shouldn't be running out into the desert by herself! She's had a head start, too!"

Ed hurried after her. "If she's as fast as her mom, she could already be there."

:0 :0 :0

McGraw parted the feathery boughs of a meskaa tree and peered up the road. "Damn, that kid's fast!" he muttered under his breath.

Bates stumbled up next to him. Greggs was just behind them, trying to extract the shoulder strap of his camera bag from some lethal-looking cactus. Spines had already imbedded themselves in the leather. He crept up alongside them.

"Would you look at this?" He gestured despairingly at his bag. "It looks like it sprouted whiskers or something!"

"Don't complain," McGraw told him. "You could've gotten those things stuck in your ass." From somewhere behind them came a strangled yelp and McGraw shook his head. "Like that poor sap."

Bates scowled over his shoulder. "They've got a lotta nerve butting in on our scoop!"

McGraw pushed ahead, not wanting to lose the little girl. "Technically, Bates, this scoop is mine and Greggs'. You work for that other paper, remember?"

Greggs chuckled. "Yeah, we just let you tag along 'cause we're old school buddies."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I owe you one," Bates conceded. "But even if I wasn't in with you guys in the first place, I'd still be on your tails like the rest of those fellas back there. Everybody knows that when McGraw's on the scent, you don't want to get left behind!"

:0 :0 :0

"Another cup?"

Stanno shook his head and set the empty cup on the counter. "No, thanks. Any of those sesame rolls left?"

The tea seller shook her head. "Sorry, Zhaarad." She smiled apologetically. "I'm all out. I could send my girl around to the baker to get more if you like. It won't take but a moment!"

"That's all right." Stanno placed some coins on the counter next to his cup. "I have things to do."

He walked away from the tea shop, leaving the woman to sigh. She was fairly attractive and could make a decent cup of tea, but she wore a Xingese scarf around her neck to hide her burn scars. Others could resign themselves to that if they wanted to.

The vegetable stand looked enticing, even if the gawky stick of a girl tending it did not. Stanno paused to glance over the neatly piled tomatoes, multi-hued sweet peppers, and small, dark green hot peppers. There was a tidy stack of long green onions that were tied in bunches with a strip of their own stalks. Holding pride of place, though, were the fat, yellow sweet onions that were not only well-loved locally but were becoming very prized in other parts of Amestris. This particular market gardener was certainly doing well for himself. He'd have to, Stanno thought, if he was ever going to find a husband for that unprepossessing daughter of his.

A stirring further up the street made him turn his head. Coming toward him at a good clip was Atash, and the passenger in his rickshaw was Rada, holding one of her brood, who seemed to be enjoying the ride immensely. Rada, however, looked upset and was glancing side to side as Atash rumbled along. At one point she held out her hand and waved it.

"Atash, slow down a little!" she cried. "I might miss her!"

"Miss who?" Stanno called back as the rickshaw rolled past him. "Rada—" He started jogging after it. "Atash!" he shouted. "Stop!"

Atash looked over his shoulder at his employer and slowed to a walk. Before he halted completely, Rada cried out fiercely, "Don't you dare stop, Atash!"

Atash gave her a helpless look, then turned pleadingly to Stanno as the carpenter came up alongside and gripped the side of the rickshaw.

Rada gave him a furious glare. "What do you want?" she demanded.

Stanno stared at her, a little taken aback. Normally she was so sweet-natured, even to him on most occasions. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Are you looking for someone?"

"Yes!" Rada snapped back. "Danika's gone missing!" She struggled to hold on to her toddler and reach down to pull off her sandal at the same time. "And I'll thank you"—she smacked Stanno's knuckles with her sandal—"to not hold me up!"

Stanno gave a yelp and snatched his hand away. Rada shook her sandal at her puller. "Move, Atash!"

Stanno clamped his hand on the rickshaw again and vaulted into it, grabbing the sandal out of Rada's hand before she could beat him with it. "None of that, my girl!"

"I am not your girl, Stanno!" Rada retorted. "Get out of my 'shaw!"

"It's my 'shaw, sweetheart!" Stanno waved the sandal at her. "Move over. I'll help you look!"

Still glowering at him, which Stanno found utterly captivating, Rada stayed put. "Go away! I don't need your help!"

Stanno bent down toward her. "You're in a panic, Rada, and you're not thinking clearly," he told her firmly. "Now move over and let me help you. You take one side and I'll take the other."

Torn between anguish and annoyance, Rada gave him one more scowling glare before sliding down the seat, where Little Winry grabbed hold of the side and tried to lean out. While Rada struggled to keep the toddler securely in her lap, Stanno sat back and turned to Atash.

"Get a move on, boy!"

Atash shook his head and lunged forward. As they continued to roll through the marketplace, Stanno made a serious effort to look for the little dark-haired girl. "So how did this happen?" he asked.

"I don't know!" Rada replied, craning her neck to peer down every side street and between every booth, stand, and shop they passed by. "She went to school this morning, but then she disappeared! No one saw her leave!" Her voice started to shake and turn teary. "I don't know how much more of this I can take! Everything's going so completely, miserably wrong!"

Stanno leaned forward to take a look down an alley between a couple of shops. "Don't start worrying too much just yet."

"I'll worry as much as I please!" Rada snapped.

Stanno made sure he was facing away from her so she didn't see the smile on his face. Being fiery suited her. "Go ahead, then."

"Oh, thank you!" Rada let out an exasperated sigh. "First it was those godforsaken reporters," she grumbled. "Now this!"

"Well, they won't be here much longer," Stanno said easily. "As a matter of fact, they're—" He gave a start and sat upright, staring ahead for a moment. "Atash! Turn around!"

The puller skidded to a halt and looked behind him irritably. "And do what?"

"Just turn your ass around and head north out of town!" Stanno ordered.

Atash frowned then his eyes widened. He quickly maneuvered the rickshaw around and headed back the way he came.

Rada glared at him, then at Stanno. "What are you doing?" she demanded. "I've looked this way already!"

"Your little girl's gone to the circus," Stanno told her. He regarded her with a frown. "That's where they're hiding Andakar, isn't it? Kind of appropriate, I'd say." He handed her back her sandal then wished he hadn't because she promptly smacked him with it.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Stanno held up his arms to defend himself and he almost laughed. "Nothing! I just—"

They were jerked forward as Atash came to a sudden stop. "Watch where you're going!" he shouted at Yoru, who had just darted out from a side street. In his rickshaw sat Winry, Ed, and Mattas, who squealed at the sight of his mother.

"Rada!" Winry cried. "Danika's heading for the circus! We're sure of it!"

"We've figured that out already!" Stanno called back impatiently. "And if you had seen fit to let me in on everybody's little secret, Zhaarana Rockbell, we could have saved a little time! As it is, those Ammy bastards are all heading out that way right now!"

Rada stared at him in shock and dismay. "Oh, no!" she gasped. "Oh, no, no, no!"

Stanno waved his arm at Yoru. "Either get moving or get out of the way!"

Both the pullers grinned. To them, this was the height of adventure. "I'll race you, Atash!" Yoru cried, turning north.

"You can swallow my dust, yaakhtai!" Atash called back.

The rickshaw leapt forward and Rada let out a breathless little scream as she and Stanno were slammed against the backrest. Holding on tightly to Little Winry, she gave Stanno a scathing look. "What could possibly be so funny?"

Unable to hide it any longer, Stanno grinned at her. "Sorry! I'm not taking delight in your troubles, honestly!"

Rada gave an irritated huff and turned away. She pressed her face against Little Winry's downy white hair, closing her eyes to fight back tears. "Oh, God, Stanno!" Her voice was strained. "What if it all comes out and they take him away?"

"Huh! Take away the khorovar?" Stanno shook his head. He leaned a little closer to her, reaching his arm across her shoulders to give her a brief, reassuring squeeze. She endured it for a moment then leaned away, and he drew his arm back. There was once a time when she came to his arms eagerly, but that was another life.

"It'll be all right, you'll see," he told her, putting on a confident face. He wasn't actually sure about that, but he felt he ought to say it anyway.

:0 :0 :0

"What the hell were they doing?" Miles roared as he stormed toward the stables. "How did they let those bastards get past them?"

Sergeant Major Benjamin, whose stride wasn't as long as his commanding officer's, hurried to keep up. "Not sure, sir," he replied promptly, if a little breathlessly. "Those paper fellows could have been timing the sentries' rounds. They could be getting a little predictable."

"Predictable, my ass! We could have headed them off! But, no! Those two lazy bastards just took their sweet time about alerting anyone!"

As a fellow non-com, Benjamin felt he ought to stick up for the private soldiers. "Sir, we can't actually detain citizens just for taking a stroll out in the desert. It would look a little suspicious. I think the sentries just weren't sure what to do."

Miles swung around and Benjamin nearly ran into him. "Well, then, they need to get reeducated!" he snarled. "I want their sorry asses in front of me as soon as I get back!"

"Sir!" Well, he did what he could. Benjamin could only pity the poor grunts.

Ishvalan word of the day:

Yaakhtai—insert rude epithet of your choice.