Forged in Blood I by Buroker Lindsay

Author:Buroker, Lindsay [Buroker, Lindsay]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, steampunk, Young Adult, Action & Adventure, Fantasy, Science Fiction, Adventure
Amazon: B00CUJ3UTM
Published: 2013-05-17T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

“Halt, and identify yourself,” came a voice from a nook beside the back door to the molasses factory. At first, Amaranthe didn’t recognize it, but then she remembered. It was one of her new “recruits.” Private Rudev. Not only had the two soldiers not wandered off, but they were standing watch. Huh.

The sun had long since set, and she supposed he couldn’t identify them in the darkness. “Amaranthe and Sergeant Yara,” she said.

“You may enter, Sergeant and, er, ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

Amaranthe shifted the book she was carrying under one arm and opened the heavy metal door. Inside, a single lantern burned beside the entrance. The only other light came from the offices on the landing. The dusty machinery and empty vats lay dormant and dark. Amaranthe lamented that she hadn’t had time to tidy the place up much yet.

“I’m going to find something to eat,” Yara said and headed for the cafeteria.

Amaranthe waved. “I may join you later.” Her stomach protested at the delay of food, but she wanted to check on the others and examine her pillaged book.

Coldness hugged the inside of the factory, so she hustled for the steps. Snow had started falling outside. If the temperature dropped much more, they’d have to start one of the furnaces to heat the building. Or start sharing bedrolls. Her lips twitched into a private smile.

The light was coming from the office next to hers. Inside, Books and Akstyr sat on opposite sides of a desk. Stacks of papers and tomes in foreign languages, along with a pile of gnawed pork ribs, covered the surface, no plates in sight. The scent of a honey-apple glaze lingered in the air. Amaranthe’s stomach issued a pitiful whine.

“You missed dinner,” Akstyr said. “Basilard made some tasty sauce.”

Her stomach’s whines grew more plaintive.

“You’ve been gone a long time.” Books sat at the desk, his hands folded over a stack of papers, a bright and alert expression on his face. He’d combed his hair and shaven, something he hadn’t bothered with the last few weeks. “Were you at your old business school the whole time? Did you run into trouble?”

“No. A delay or two, but we got past them.” Amaranthe chose not to go into the details of how easily she was gaining access to locked buildings these days—Books always pursed his lips in disapproval at the development of her thief-appropriate skill set. “I didn’t find the records I sought, but this was written by Suan, so it may prove enlightening.” She tapped the leather-bound book. “I was hoping someone would save me dinner.”

Akstyr picked up a rib with most of the meat gnawed off. “There’s a little left on some of these bones. If you don’t mind Books’s slobber.”

Books’s lips flattened. “Are you ever going to start acting like an adult?”

“What do you mean? I was real mature about a certain assassin hacking off all of my hair and burning it like some funeral pyre offering.” This time Akstyr’s lips flattened, the expression oddly similar to Books’s.

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