September 16th, 1996

As predicted rain fell again on the second day of the Harvest Festival in Resembool, but the third day once again dawned crystalline clear with the brisk perfection of autumn. Which was perfect, in Edward's mind, because today was the biggest day of performances, which would be followed that evening with the now-traditional haunted trail, though that now only happened one or two nights out of the festival. It had proven incredibly popular from its inception, and the teenagers of Resembool continued to host it.

The afternoon concerts would be the highlight however, as local talents from across the region played in a wide variety of styles. Old fashioned groups playing music that was almost as old as Edward, and some of the younger members of the community had their own bands. It was a chance for them to have an audience. Some of them were choirs instead of bands, but it was always an enjoyable time. Edward was glad they had expanded the stage and the seating a few years ago, because the festival continued to pull more and more people.

By the time the afternoon performances rolled around, Edward was ready to sit and listen for a while, not that he would ever have admitted to needing to sit for any length of time out of necessity. It had been a productive day. Winry and Elicia had won the baking contest this year, after having come in second last year to a surprising entry from a newcomer who had just moved into town a couple of years ago.

The whole family gathered together taking a cluster of seats near the front, since Hrafn and some of his friends from school had put together a band—much to Reichart's amusement—and they were playing their first set that wasn't in a barn during today's performance. The teens would also be playing at the party that followed the haunted trail tonight, but this would definitely be the bigger audience.

So, Edward wasn't surprised to see a lot of the family in the crowd. Winry, Elicia, and Alphonse sat to one side of him. Reichart, Deanna, and Cassie were there as well. Just a few minutes before show time, Aldon and Urey joined them, dropping onto the benches beside and just in front of Edward.

Edward grinned at them both. "Cooking contest do you in this year?" They hadn't judged baking, since a lot of family had entered, but none of them had entered for the other categories, and there were always Elrics on the judging panels somewhere. Which, of course, meant sampling everything. Edward and Alphonse had given up that job years ago, though they enjoyed their own share of festival delights over the course of the week.

"Almost," Aldon admitted with a laugh. "Glad I opted not to enter the eating contests."

"As if you had an option," Cassie commented with a wry smile.

"At least you can't say I don't listen to you," Aldon replied, leaning over and kissing his wife playfully on the cheek.

"Nice to know someone knows how to listen," Raina chimed in from the other side of Urey.

Urey laughed. "I only entered one. It's not like I did all of them."

"Unlike last year, when you couldn't budge for three days after," Reichart teased.

"As if you were any better," Deanna poked her husband in the shoulder. "You were his closest competition."

"Which is why I have manfully admitted my brother's digestive superiority and didn't try this year," Reichart snickered.

"You can all brag about your gluttony later," Cassie cut in over her sons. "The performances are starting."

Edward—who had wisely not chimed in further—turned his attention to the stage as the crowd quieted in the immediate area. While there was still the murmur of crowds at the stalls and other festival activities, the installation of an actual sound system along with the revamped stage had made it much easier for performers to be heard.

The first few groups were enjoyable enough, even though most of them were more enthusiastic amateurs than any long-standing professionals. Not that anyone who made a living playing music was likely to spend much time coming to small town festivals like this one.

Six groups in, it was Hrafn and his friends' turn, and while Edward had to admit he wasn't the biggest fan of the current music trend, he appreciated that the kids turned out to at least be on key and have a good grasp of how to play their instruments. They also had passable vocal skills. Certainly, more than Edward had anyway. It was fast paced, the lyrics were good, and it got everyone's blood pumping.

It was several seconds into their third song that Edward realized something wasn't right. A strange fog… no…smoke…was rising up through the tiny spaces between the wooden slats of the stage floor, but it wasn't a special effect. That wasn't supposed to be there, and it was starting to get heavier.

Fortunately, he wasn't the only one who noticed. As soon as it was markedly visible, a cry went up from the audience and the teens stopped playing, realized something was very wrong, and immediately hurried off the stage.

As a cry of fire went up from several voices, the crowd started moving immediately pushing away from the stage and out the various exits in the open space.

Edward realized he was already on his feet, and so was everyone else, mostly trying to get away. But… this wasn't fire. He didn't smell wood or electrical burning, despite the smoke. Then he heard a sound… like tiny snaps…. "Run!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs. "It's going to explode!"

The last word was devoured by the shrieking roar and blinding flash of something exploding as the stage floor erupted upwards sending out the shrapnel of flying debris, and Edward felt himself thrown several feet to the ground. Rolling, he came up yards from the stage to see it engulfed in…. flames. But like no flames he had ever seen. For one thing, they were incredibly hot and another… they were several colors at once.

Alchemy. It couldn't be anything else. There was nothing natural about the fire that was ripping across the stage floor, up the posts, and already lighting the fabric above his head ablaze. Edward wanted to follow his own advice, but even with everyone fleeing, there were still too many in the stage area. Dozens were laying still, and other struggling to stand. Screams had gone up all across the festival grounds, and Edward ran towards the nearest prone form instead of running away, looking for help.

Through the haze of smoke filling the air, he spotted Alphonse. "Al! We've got to put it out!"

His brother was bleeding from the side of his head where he must have struck something. Still, he nodded. "What should we use?" Alphonse asked, shouting over the din as he closed the distance.

"All we've got is dirt," Edward pointed out. There wasn't enough water within easy distance to pull on to put out so much as a campfire. "We can always regrade the fairgrounds later."

"But we can't just rip it up with injured people everywhere."

"We'll have to try spraying it… like a layer of sand."

Two sets of hands clapped together, and two alchemists hit the dirt, and Edward watched as their attack attempt scattered across the stage. Some of the flames tamped, but it was too big to get it all. "All we're doing is delaying," Edward grimaced.

"But we can buy people time."

That was really all they could do. That was when Edward saw more flashes of alchemical energy through the haze. Given the direction, he guessed that Urey and Yurian had gotten involved. He couldn't hear enough of anything coherent through the chaos to hear anyone further away than Alphonse, and all he could do was hope and trust that everyone else had done what they could do and gotten out of the way. Or they were getting others out…which sounded more like his family.

"This has to be Arsenic's doing!" he shouted to Alphonse again.

"But why would they blow up a festival stage?" Alphonse shouted back, not disputing the conclusion that Edward had come to.

"Maybe they knew we'd be here." It was the most likely answer. The festival schedule was fixed weeks ahead of time, and the stage times had been set for almost a month. Anyone who had slipped a spy into the general area could have gotten hold of that information and presumed that the Elrics would not only be at the festival, but there to watch the performances with Hrafn Elric playing. "They might still be here." A horrifying thought, but there was nothing to be done now except trying to keep the alchemical fire under control. It seemed to have a life of its own, licking over everything as if it didn't notice the dirt. Even if they'd had water, Edward wouldn't have thrown any on it. Not with the colors he could see licking in those flames. "Maybe we can suffocate it," he suggested. If they could pull air away from it, or stifle and press it… maybe that would be more effective than flinging dirt everywhere. If there weren't people in the way they could have just buried the entire area.

Even with the crowds pushed out and away and people running in all directions, Edward could still make out shapes under the awnings, moving through the thickening smoke… struggling to carry the injured. Some bodies lay still closest to the stage and Edward feared to find out who they were. A fury rose inside him. How dare they attack the people of Resembool!

The air transmutation worked too, to some extent, but not fast enough, and not over a wide enough area. The open space made it difficult.

Edward's first realization that the sirens wailing above the shouts were the Resembool fire department was as men in gear charged past him hauling a hose. Shit. "No don't!"

But the warning was already too late as they turned the hose on the flames and aimed it at the stage.

The explosion that rocked them all backwards sent Edward tumbling for a second time, scorched like desert wind, blinding light and the horrendous boom that suddenly seemed to cut off as Edward felt his ear-drums ringing inside his skull.

Get up. Get up or you're dead. Only decades of instincts and experience got Edward back on his feet. He ached everywhere, and his auto-mail arm, having been thrown over his face on instinct, was dented where it had caught and deflected shrapnel.

"Alphonse?!" he shouted into fuzzed half-silence of his damaged ears. At least he wasn't entirely deaf, which meant that he should regain his hearing in a few hours at the moment. A thought that also came from experience.

Around him, everything was chaos, if less than it had been. The thousands of guests that had crowded the festival grounds seemed to have mostly cleared the area, and he could see in the distance dozens of people attempting to put out the fire, which had only spread. It was now ripping down the row of merchant tents, catching one after another as the fall breeze picked it up. It still caught with unnatural ease.

The firefighters had left the hose on the ground as they stood, staring in horror.

Then the chief spotted Edward. "Mr. Elric! What is that?" he shouted too, and still sounded muffled.

"Some kind of alchemical fire," Edward responded. "Whatever's in it, it reacts with water."

"I noticed. How do we put it out?"

"Dirt, suffocation. If we can get the injured out of the way, alchemists should be able to put out enough for us to get everyone out safely. We may not be able to save the festival grounds." It hurt his pride to admit it, but now was not the time to undersell the dangers or the damages. "We'll do what we can. Focus on rescue." Edward turned around again. Where was Alphonse?

Edward stepped forward, looking down, and almost stumbled over his brother on the ground. Oh gods…no… "Alphonse?" Edward dropped to his knees, shaking his brother's shoulder. Alphonse lay front-down, his head turned to the side. There was blood seeping from his side. From the back? But we were facing… Edward's blood ran cold as he realized that what he was looking at wasn't a shrapnel injury. "Alphonse! Somebody, my brother is injured!" Edward slammed his hands together and placed them on his brother. He had to stop the bleeding. Alphonse hadn't been hit by debris; he'd been shot.

Winry had hoped her experiences on the battlefield were long past, but that was precisely what she found herself in as she staggered through the smoke, avoiding the rushing flames, as she helped carry injured to safety, and do emergency first aid to stabilize them if she could. Tourniquets and bandages ripped from clothing… splints from torn and scattered bits of wood.

The emergency response team from the hospital had arrived with all speed, only a few minutes after the initial, smaller explosion. Doctors, nurses, immediate triage, and ambulances immediately started running the most critical back to the hospital itself. There were too many wounded to send them all at once.

Winry had seen most of her family fleeing in the chaos, retreating as they should, except for a few very notable absences. The ones she had expected of course… not a single alchemist in the family. There was no way Edward and Alphonse had run. She knew them too well. All she could do was trust them not to do more than they could handle, and that they were alive.

Slowly the fire was engulfing row after row of stalls, and Winry saw that the firefighters and police had shifted to rescue and trying to block the fire from spreading farther. The space between the edge of the tents and the livestock barns was quickly emptied of anything flammable, leaving nothing but the long-packed dirt. Around the edge of the grounds a wide gap of at least fifty yards now existed. Winry caught sight of Urey and Yurian using alchemy to church up the ground between, rendering it also nothing but an empty expanse of dirt to the road, and a huge ditch that curved around to keep it from moving towards town.

Winry couldn't look for anyone else, she was needed. In a crisis, even someone with surgical assistance experience and her limited skills was needed. She could stitch minor wounds as well as she could clean and bandage. Splint and stabilize. Assess and hand them off to the right level of medical expertise.

The line of dead, covered with whatever tarp or sheets were available, made her heart ache. She didn't even know who of their friends, neighbors, possibly family, were under them. Please let them be all right. Selfish it might be, but she doubted anyone would blame her for hoping none of her family were among them. It would be a miracle if they weren't.

The first she knew were alive were those who were also at work tending the wounded. Cassie, looking disheveled but focused on caring for her patients.

Elicia was the next one Winry spotted. She was offering water from the hydration station to patients who had been treated or were awaiting treatment but were not severely injured.

The fire continued to rage, until everything within those acres was engulfed, and there seemed to be nothing to do but watch. Winry felt her fears rise as neither Edward nor Alphonse appeared.

There were hundreds of injured, many just from the chaotic stampede that had been people fleeing for their lives from danger. The line of dead grew slowly, but steadily, and Winry knew some of the people rushed to the hospital might still be added to the list.

Finally, someone relieved her, ordering her to sit and drink and rest. Winry made her way to where Elicia was still handing out water and joined her, draining several cups. The moment she sat down, she knew she wouldn't be getting up again for a while as her legs almost fell out from under her.

"Have you seen them?" Elicia asked immediately.

Winry shook her head. "Not yet, but I haven't seen any signs of alchemy in a while either." Both were worrying. "I haven't seen a lot of people." Which could be good, meaning they weren't injured, or very bad.

"I've seen some," Elicia replied. "Raina showed up here with Brynne and Ewan about half an hour ago. Someone was very smart and herded all the children up at the animal barns and activity crafts out behind the barns. They're keeping them up there until parents come for them so we've been sending anyone coming through here looking for their children up that way, and any separated children who aren't seriously injured have been going there as well to make it easier to keep track of them.

"Raina said Urey and Yurian were both helping block in the fire, and that she saw Pierce, Dessa, and Lochlan up at the barn as well. Lochlan and Dessa are helping keep the littler ones calm."

Well, that was a relief, though it didn't account for everyone. "What about the others?"

"I haven't seen Owen or Cailean, though Rhiana's down at the other end of the line at the second medical emergency station helping with first aid."

In some things, Winry supposed, veterinary training and human care were probably almost the same. "Anyone else?"

"I saw Aldon, but at a distance. He looked like he was giving directions."

In the chaos, it was nice to know someone was, though that made Winry wonder where the mayor was. The most recent Mayor of Resembool was a quiet, respectable young man—okay so he was in his early forties—named Cragen Lors. Not that one person could handle the entire situation. Still, the police and fire departments were doing a commendable job given the situation.

Winry wanted to know if they had even managed to investigate the cause. Not that it had taken her more than a few seconds looking at those strange flames to realize they weren't naturally occurring. She would bet a year's profits that Arsenic was behind this second attack in Resembool. Apparently, they didn't care about collateral damage.

"Mom."

Winry turned her head quickly at the sound of Aldon's voice. Her son appeared, joining them out of the crowds. The look on his face made her insides clench. "Aldon, what's wrong?" Her son's hands were as tight as his expression, and there was a war in his eyes to keep calm.

"Hrafn's been injured." Aldon paused then, swallowing. "The whole band has been taken to the hospital in critical condition. They were barely off stage when it exploded. He… might lose his right arm even if… if he lives." A tear escaped his eyes, and Winry stood, enfolding her son in her arms. His grandson, her great-grand… She let her own tears flow freely. Those poor children, all of them. "Do Reichart and Deanna know yet?"

Aldon nodded. "They're with him."

"You should go too," Winry suggested. "They'll need you."

"I wish I could but… I can't. Not yet." Aldon straightened up, and took a step back. "Lors is dead. I seem to have been unanimously reinstated temporarily as mayor by anyone with half a brain, though they did it without consulting me. Everyone is asking what happened and we can't even start a preliminary investigation until everything is done burning, and by then there won't be much left to work with." He sighed, then seemed to shake himself. "Where are Dad and Uncle Al? I could really use their expertise."

Winry's heart sank. "You haven't seen them?"

"No. Shit…" Aldon's eyes widened as he realized she hadn't either. "I'll see if we can find them. Stay here."

Winry nodded, sitting back down before she fell. "Don't worry, I'll be easy to find. As soon as you hear something, I want word."

"I promise you'll have it."

Edward had lost track of time, of sense, of nearly everything in his frantic pouring of alchemical energy into his brother's prone form. Alphonse's blood covered his hands, and stained both their clothes, but the smoke had made him dizzy, and Edward felt himself wavering in and out of consciousness. I won't let you die, Al. I will not let the world take you from me. Not yet… He had known it would be someday, and sooner rather than later, before one of them went first, but he would not let this be the way it happened!

Whoever had shot him had not stuck around for a second shot it seemed. Alone in the middle of everything, Edward had lost track of when he had stopped seeing people. Heard nothing but the roar of the fires devouring everything.

Eventually, everything just went black.

His next conscious realization was that he was breathing fresh air, and that his lungs ached, and his body felt sunburned all over. Then that there was a coolness around him, and the feeling of light energy running through him… alchemy? Edward struggled to open his eyes, coughing as he inhaled sharply.

The face above him, between Edward and the open sky, was that of Alphonse's young protégé. Danielle Moreau looked startled, but relieved as his eyes focused on her face. A face streaked with grime and tears.

Edward took several more deep breaths, willing the coughing to subside. He was on his back, on the ground. "Al?" he gasped his first critical, only question. Where was his brother? Had he succeeded in what healing he could offer, or had he lost him?

"On the way to the hospital," Danielle answered, rubbing her eyes with her sleeve. The poor girl was a disheveled mess, her long hair a tangle down her back. "He was the last one on the last ambulance. You'll be first on the next one. It should be here soon."

Ambulance… that meant he was alive, right? "Did he… make it?"

Another face appeared above him. Edward recognized one of the senior nurses from the hospital. "He's still breathing, Sir," he replied. "He lost a lot of blood, but you managed to partially close the wound. He wasn't actively bleeding out when the firefighters found you both and pulled you out."

He had passed out then. Edward wanted to get up, but he found that his limbs felt heavy, his breathing still labored. "Will they be able to get him to surgery in time?"

"We're doing our best," the nurse replied. He looked grim though. "The casualties have been more than I ever thought to see. Especially in Resembool. Every surgical suite at the hospital is in use, and they're working as fast as they can safely."

"How long… has it been?" Edward managed to get out. "The fire…"
"Is still burning, but it's starting to fail now. The festival grounds will be gone. After the firefighters realized they couldn't put it out with water, they just ordered everything around it cleared down to dirt and to let it burn itself out."

Edward closed his eyes. All those merchant's goods, the stage…so much gone, but it could all be replaced. Lives… "How many dead?"

"We're still getting an accurate count. You really should rest, Mr. Elric. I'm going to put an oxygen mask on you. Just breathe naturally and try not to strain yourself more than you already have."

Edward wanted to argue, but aside from panic about Alphonse, and the unknowing dread of who all might be dead… he couldn't summon the strength. He nodded. "Just… do you know… is Winry…?"

"Mrs. Elric is fine, sir," Danielle answered that question. "I saw her earlier. She treated the cut on my cheek. Mrs. Elicia was also there."

Winry was all right. It was a single bright spot in a horrible situation. Edward felt himself drifting, and he couldn't focus on what he needed to think about. The enemy… someone needed to know…

Elicia's heart was a trapped bird in her chest, fluttering madly as she fought back panic. It had been nearly two hours after the fire's outbreak before a messenger sent to find her and Winry told them that Edward and Alphonse had been located, unconscious, and rescued from the flaming inferno. Neither had received severe burns, but smoke inhalation and injuries sustained in the second blast had left them both in poor shape. Alphonse had been sent straight to the hospital for surgery, and Edward had gone not long after. By the time she and Winry had made it down to the end of the line, both were already at the hospital.

So now she paced the waiting room outside the surgical ward. Alphonse had been in surgery for over an hour, and never before had Elicia so desperately wished that Resembool had more alkahestry trained physicians. They did, in fact, have two now, even though they weren't related to the Elrics in any way. Both were fairly capable, but they were stretched to their full capacity today, and all four operating suites were in full use. The alkahestrists could not be in all of them at once.

She had no idea if one of them had been available to work on Alphonse or not.

Elicia wished she were not alone, but there was no one to be with her at this moment. Edward had not sustained any injuries requiring surgery, but he was unconscious in a room down the hall, and reportedly on an oxygen tank, but stabilized.

Hrafn was out of surgery and in a room that he shared with all of his surviving friends—one of the boys had died—due to how over-crowded the hospital was already. She had heard two nurses saying that they were going to start moving less critical patients to the smaller clinics in nearby towns as soon as the vehicles could be spared, and drivers organized. At least for those who couldn't be sent home. Anyone who was stable and not in danger of dying was being sent home.

Reichart and Deanna were with their son. Elicia didn't even know the outcome of the surgery except that Hrafn had survived it. Whether he still had his arm or not, she didn't know.

All she knew was that the girl, Danielle, was being credited with helping keep Alphonse and Edward both alive this long. She had used everything she had learned from Alphonse to keep him going from the time Edward and Alphonse had been brought out, to the moment they put Alphonse in the ambulance. Then she had turned her attentions to Edward.

Hold on, Al. I'm not ready to lose you yet. Not for the first time, Elicia lamented that she had never had an aptitude for alchemy. Of course, she had tried it when she was younger, but academic understanding and application were two different things. She had not had the passion to be too upset about not having a knack for it, and had let it go years ago. Now… she would have given anything to have that training.

"Elicia?"

Turning so quickly she almost slipped on the floor, Elicia looked at Cassie, who had just come out of a door down the hall. It wasn't the surgical ward.

"Any news?" Elicia asked, leaving the question open. She didn't even know who or what to ask for anymore.

"Not about Al," Cassie replied regretfully. "I won't know anything before you do. All I know is he's still in surgery. Though I did see Doctor Rallis going into his operating room a few minutes ago."

That was one of the two alkahestrists. Elicia felt a slight easing. Even if it meant Al's case was that serious, she felt better knowing he would be getting the best possible treatment beyond what a regular surgeon could manage. "Thank you. Anyone else?"

Cassie hesitated, if only a moment. "Hrafn's stable, thank goodness, but he lost his right arm from the elbow down. He hasn't regained consciousness yet, so he doesn't know."

The poor boy. He would be heartbroken. Even though Winry could make him an auto-mail hand, Elicia knew she would offer if she hadn't already, he would have to learn how to use it all over again. He had been getting really good at the guitar as part of the band. Would he be able to play again? Would he want to? What about when he found out his friend had died?

"I'm so sorry, Cassie," Elicia reached out and hugged her. They embraced for several seconds, taking needed comfort in the other's presence. "Who have we lost?"

"So far… none of the family. Miracle that that is," Cassie replied. "Lots of injuries, but Hrafn and Alphonse are the worst off. Though Resembool over-all hasn't been so lucky. Us, or the neighboring towns. There are fifty dead so far. As best we can tell, fifteen of those died in the initial explosion, and four in the second. The rest were caught up in it or half run down by the crowds fleeing, or they tried to save their dying friends or family members and the smoke got them." Cassie shook her head sadly as they let go of each other. "The mayor was one of them, and so Aldon's provisional mayor until the next election can be held. There were others. A couple of the neighbors… we may still lose some to the smoke, but most of the critical ones were seen immediately, so hopefully we won't lose many more." She grimaced. "Though I should tell you that security on the hospital is incredibly tight right now. Aldon spoke with Winry and he suspects that the same people who attacked your house are behind this. He's called Central, and apparently additional security is already on route from Eastern Command. The two State Alchemists that were assigned here after the last attack… both were found in the fire, but they were shot dead."

The same way Alphonse had been shot. The members of Arsenic who had caused the explosion had done this much damage just to create an opportunity to kill alchemists? Elicia wasn't sure if they were just after Edward and Alphonse, but clearly no one else's lives meant anything to them. Definitely not the other State Alchemists, who had not been enough. Not that Elicia could have expected them to be able to be sure not a single spy had snuck in with the chaos that was the Harvest Festival. Thousands of people attended the festival daily all week. In fact, considering the number of people present earlier that afternoon, a death count of only fifty was less than Elicia might have expected.

"I take it no one has been arrested?"

"No one was seen with weapons. They could still be in the area, or they could have fled as soon as they finished as much of the mission as they could manage. That's why things are locked down at all the doors. Right now, no one has been allowed inside who isn't an immediately family member of someone injured, or hospital staff."

Elicia nodded. "But how do you know none of them are the people behind it?" No one said the enemy had to be from somewhere else.

"We've accounted for the locations of all the hospital staff who were on duty, and most of those who weren't, but you're right, we don't. That's why no one is getting in or out without staff escorts. Not that I think you'll leave, but you need to stay here until someone comes to take you to Alphonse."

That was easy enough. "I'm not going anywhere," she promised Cassie. "Not without Alphonse." She would not consider a scenario yet in which she might have to leave the building without him.

Tore wanted to destroy something. Anything. But, with nothing convenient at hand that he could afford to scorch, he was limited to determining the immediate and best response of the government. They couldn't be seen by the enemy to be scrambling, but they could not go without a response either. Still, he was beginning to understand why Mustang had built up a reputation for taking out threats on his own, violently, and without mercy. He hadn't had to live up to it much afterwards, but no one had dared to cross him directly.

If only he'd had someone in front of him to vent it on. But he didn't. He had, of course, immediately contacted Eastern Command and had them send men out on the first train, but it would still take them over a day to arrive in Resembool.

If there had ever been a time to prove the non-war capabilities of their aircraft, this was it. Not that he could send too many, but Resembool was in need of medical supplies and personnel. Those he could pack full on a handful of craft, especially if he prioritized alkahestrists over regular physicians, and have down there in a matter of hours in comparison.

Instead of going out the door on time, he was in the middle of chaos. He had sent Caroline Flynn down to the Aeronautical division office, and the State Alchemists office, with his requests before the news had even broken that there had been some kind of an incident. By the time the first radio broadcasts—thank goodness there hadn't been a television crew on hand—hit the airwaves, Tore was ready to make a televised statement.

He was starting to get used to these. He had written this one, though he'd had Flynn look it over to make sure he didn't inadvertently say something that he'd regret later. It was brief, and it covered only what was necessary, that there had been a fire at the fairgrounds, and that there were injured, dead, and an investigation was underway by local officials to determine the cause of the tragedy. Military humanitarian aid was being sent with all speed to support the people.

Tore would not give the enemy the satisfaction of being named. Of giving the public more reason to fear them.

His message to Tringham had been twofold. First, to send as many alkahestrists—State Alchemists or not—that were willing to go down to help with the medical situation, with all haste. The second, to get the location of their spy and get her in to the office immediately if it wouldn't cause suspicion. They needed a report and they needed it yesterday. Somehow this attack had gone off despite having someone on the inside, and Tore needed to know how that had happened.

More importantly, he needed to know if the materials he had allowed to have been "stolen" as part of Alabaster's cover had been used in this attack. If it was, I've as good as killed Alphonse…and more than fifty innocent civilians. He didn't know how he was going to handle that. All he knew for sure was that something had gone wrong, and he was going to have to find a way to mitigate the damage. The faster they unearthed the rest of Arsenic and tore the group apart, the better.