Forged in Blood I Read Online Free PDF

Kidnappings still go on, though the enforcers don’t look the other way anymore.”
    Amaranthe’s probing fingers encountered a change in the texture of the wall stone. The cement had changed to brick.
    “Thank you, Professor,” Maldynado said. “That was a story worthy of Books.”
    “Sh, over here.”
    When his shoulder bumped into hers, Amaranthe grabbed his hand and put it on the wall. She spent a few seconds following the crease where brick turned to cement. It definitely felt like a doorway—or rather a doorway that had been bricked over.
    “There may have been a tunnel here, but it’s not accessible now,” Maldynado said, echoing her thoughts.
    Amaranthe sighed. “We might have to try your idea about sneaking in the front after all.”
    A number of slams and clangs sounded in the alley above.
    “Maybe not,” Maldynado said. “Sounds like those blokes are leaving.”
    That would make getting in easier, but it’d also mean the theoretical meeting she wished to spy on had ended. A few more slams sounded, followed by the heavy rumble of lorries rolling away.
    A fresh slash of moonlight flowed into the tunnel. Maldynado had already climbed the ladder and pushed up the manhole. Amaranthe was of a mind to chastise him for being too hasty—they should have jogged back up to the other manhole to check in case anyone remained on the loading dock.
    “All clear,” Maldynado said before she could phrase an appropriate chastisement. “Someone’s still inside too. I saw a bit of light as the back door was closing.”
    “Coming.” Amaranthe climbed up after him.
    Maldynado reached the loading dock first and, after eyeing the drainpipe for a moment, put a hand on the doorknob. He paused there, raising his eyebrows hopefully.
    “Is it locked?” Amaranthe eyed the street and the dock to make sure they were indeed alone—and to see if the soldiers had left any clues. Only the lingering scent of burning coal remained.
    “Nope.” Maldynado pressed his ear to the metal door, then turned the knob and peered through the crack.
    The sounds of clanking machinery escaped.
    “The presses are running early for the morning’s paper,” Amaranthe said. “It’s not even—”
    Maldynado shut the door quickly.
    “Did someone see you?” Amaranthe crouched, ready to spring off the dock and into the darkness if needed.
    “I don’t think so.”
    “We better go in through the attic. There’ll be a number of people around to man those presses.”
    “Not people,” Maldynado said, “soldiers.”
    Another time, Amaranthe might have pointed out that soldiers qualified as people, but not now. Soldiers? Had Ravido or one of the other erstwhile leaders taken over the Gazette ? “The soldiers are working the presses? Or just in the room?”
    “I only saw two men, but it looks that way.” Maldynado waved to the drainpipe. “Still want to go in through the attic?”
    As Amaranthe knew from her prior trip, the attic would take them to a loft overlooking the journalists’ desks. They wouldn’t be able to see what was rolling off the presses from that perch. She had a feeling the army wasn’t here to simply oversee the production of the next day’s newspaper.
    “Let’s see if we can slip in when nobody’s looking.” She reached around Maldynado for the doorknob. He frowned, not moving out of the way. She jerked her chin. Maldynado stood, jaw set, as if he intended to insist on going first. She gave him a firm I-appreciate-your-protectiveness-but-I’m-in-charge-so-move-your-round-cheeks look. His lips flattened, but he stepped aside.
    Amaranthe eased the door open, pressing her eye to the crack. Sauna-like heat escaped, caressing her face with its warmth. The gas lamps mounted on the walls diminished some of the nighttime gloom of the printing room—a high-ceilinged open space that took up the back half of the building—but the shadows offered hiding spots. The bulky machines, too, provided nooks and obstacles to duck