Since the wall to the hallway seemed to be monitored, we decided that escaping through the attic would be our clearest path.

We flitted about like madmen, pushing every oak dresser, each cedar trunk and the handful of mahogany dining tables against the wall overlooking the side of the house.

My hair was matted down with sweat and my clothing stuck to me uncomfortably. Ed's ponytail had picked up a layer of cobwebs and there was a swath of gray dust across his cheek. I could feel the blisters forming on my palms.

We paused to assess our collection and deemed it a sufficient enough amount of material to transmute into a ladder reaching to the ground below.

On our knees, we were so involved with drawing the large array on the wall below the window that we didn't hear the footsteps until they were directly behind us.

The maid approached, only she wasn't dressed like a maid anymore. She wore a tight-fitting oxblood dress, a white turtleneck raised from its wide neckline the backdrop for a large blue pendant around her neck.

"Hello, sons of Hohenheim," she said, stepping toward us.

We said nothing, choosing to regard her with the angriest glares we could produce.

"Now, now," she snickered. "I thought you would be happy to receive some company." There was an odd, mischievous glint in her eye.

"You were all too happy to starve us and now you want to be friends?!" Ed yelled and stood up, his fists clenched at his sides.

I noticed her looking at our array with narrowed eyes. "Have you been performing much alchemy up here?" she asked, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

What was she saying? She knew we had been practicing alchemy and disturbing the reinforced bedroom wall. She had taken away our food because of it!

"Why did you come up here, Lyra? You can't hurt us anymore. We're leaving," said Ed, turning back toward the wall.

Lyra brought her hand thoughtfully to her chin. "My, Edward, how you do resemble your father when he was younger. I see you've also inherited his spirit, his tenacity."

"So sorry I never got to meet your mother," she said, still with that near imperceptible grin.

Ed whipped back toward her. "Don't you dare say another word about our mother!" he shouted.

Her expression soured. "I could have given your father everything, anything he wanted! But instead he chose her." She eyed us both up and down. "And you," she scoffed.

"We could have had Amestris bowing to us, the world! But he threw it all away and cast me aside for two mongrels!" Her eyes were manic. Any composure she had was discarded.

"What do you mean, Lyra?" I asked meekly, feeling a tremble beginning in my legs.

"Ha," she laughed dryly. "Lyra did not serve you well, but she will serve me, for when you have lived as long as I have, you find need of new vessels from time to time."

"Dante," Ed growled.

She crossed her arms, elbows cradled by her hands. "So very much like your father."

I looked frantically to Ed, to Lyra and back. Except she referred to herself as if Lyra was a seperate entity, and Ed had called her Dante. "Brother?"

"She took over Lyra's body, Al," Ed said with a look of disgust. "She must've been a real old hag."

"Wretch," she sneered. "And to think I allowed you to live in my home, or allowed you to live at all."

So she was aware of our presence this entire time! The realization struck me in the gut like a punch. Father lied. He told us Dante was unaware he had children. Had our nearly three-year imprisonment been merely an excuse to abandon us?

"Where is our father?!" I cried.

"Waiting for me to join him," she said triumphantly, raising her chin to look down her nose at me. "Him and I have a lot of work to do."

I turned to look at Ed with tears in my eyes. I blinked the mist away and saw his eyes pointedly move to me, then to the array on the wall, then back to me again.

"And what is it you're planning on doing? Or will you just ride off into the sunset together?" Ed asked sarcastically, a smirk on his lips.

"It's no business of yours!" she shrieked.

"AL, NOW!" Ed screamed.

I pressed my palms against the array and with a flash of kinetic current, the house's wall gave a great heave as the pile of wood shimmered away. I concentrated hard on my intention, visualizing a strong, tall ladder descending from our floor to the ground.

Beyond the cacophony of splitting wood and the crumbling of stone, I could faintly hear Ed and Dante in a tussle. I desperately wanted to make sure he was alright, but I couldn't risk failing to create a solid escape route. I knew now that Dante had no intention of letting us out of her house alive.

Behind me, the floorboards groaned against the strain of heavy jumps and tumbles. I dared a quick glance and saw Ed lunge at Dante, but with simply a clap of her hands she transmuted a blockade in front of her to stop him.

As the blue light dissipated, I hurled myself at the window and looked down. Perhaps it wasn't the masterpiece of an experienced alchemist, but the rungs jutting out from the wall seemed sufficient enough to hold us.

"Get out of here, Al!" Ed shouted over the din.

"I'm not leaving without you!" I cried.

"GO NOW!"

I winced, blinked back the tears, and threw my leg over the window sill.

I pressed my foot down on the first rung to make sure it wouldn't collapse under my weight. It seemed sturdy so I set my other foot down.

Before I descended, I shouted at the very top of my lungs, so that even though the attic was as loud as a battlefield, Ed would be able to hear me.

"I love you, Brother!"

I carefully, as quickly as I could, made my way down the ladder.

I peered into every window I passed. No signs of life through the third story, nobody visible on the second, and emptiness through the tall window to the ballroom. Dante must have been telling the truth, that our father really had lied to us, sacrificing our freedom in order to gain his own.

Suddenly the wall bowed outward and glass shards rained down as a plume of fire exploded from the attic window. It jostled my grip loose and I fell the remainder of the distance to the ground, which thankfully was only a few feet.

"EDWARD!" I screamed and got to my feet. Tears stung my eyes and as they fell, they collected droplets of blood from cuts I sustained from the hail of glass, sending rivulets of red down my face.

From the cloud of smoke, Ed, sputtering and hacking, started down the ladder.

The farther he climbed, the clearer I could see that he was injured. He seemed to be favoring his right leg and his right hand was not flesh-colored but a deep maroon. He finally reached the last rung, stumbled and hit the ground on his knees.

"We gotta go, Al," he wheezed, pressing a hand against his blood-soaked side.

I pulled his other arm around my shoulder and helped him to his feet.

We hobbled away from the burning house as fast as we could.

Neither of us looked back.