Free Shadow Lands by K. F. Breene

her. They took the stairs down to the alley. “Why are you bothering trying to learn to fight?”
    Ruisa pushed through the door. When they entered the busy alleyway, she steered them toward the right and hunched slightly, trying to blend in like Leilius said they should.
    “I don’t want to be left behind,” Ruisa said in a quiet tone, eyes darting from side to side. “I want to protect my home, not wait until the worst happens and try to salvage a bad situation. I come from a warrior nation, just like you. Is it so strange that I want to take part in training too?”
    Marc shrugged, feeling eyes on him. A tingle crawled up his spine as two Graygual passed within five feet, their hard gazes staring Marc down. Buildings seemed to close in, crushing Marc as he and Ruisa made their way. Panic ate at his nerves.
    Marc and Ruisa had purchased the raingear sold to tourists in great quantities, now looking like most everyone else, but it didn’t seem to matter. The Graygual and Inkna knew who the Westwood Isles people were, and it was no secret how much they wanted Marc’s crew dead.
    “I’d rather just doctor,” Marc said through a trembling voice. “I didn’t want to be here at all.”
    “Well, I do want to be here.” Ruisa pushed him to the right, still violent, but her voice shook just as much as Marc’s. The harsh stares, and hands on sword hilts, scared her, too. They shouldn’t have stayed behind to talk about poison. They should’ve gone to the eating hall with the more experienced fighters.
    A Graygual, large and broad-shouldered, passed too close to Ruisa. His body bumped hers. A sneer creased his face. He made a kissing noise. “I have plans for you, little girl.”
    “Are you sure you want to be here?” Marc asked with a hard hold on his sword, ready to rip it out. He sent a hard scowl after the swaggering Graygual.
    Ruisa raised her chin as she placed her hand on her sword like Marc had. “I will not cower. Shanti has seen so much worse, and she’s still kicking ass. I can do it.”
    They left the alley and into a thoroughfare. There were all kinds of visitors passing through, from the obviously rich with velvet robes and attendants shadowing them, to those without any means at all, sitting beside poorly erected stands selling their badly created wares. Shadow people stood along the walls dressed in well-made fur coats or animal hide with their light hair and eyes, watching silently. Providing protection.
    Marc heard Ruisa echo his sigh of relief. “Okay, here we are,” she said as she pulled open a heavy door to a square, nondescript building. The furniture inside was sparse and simple, durable and well-made, but with no flourish. Marc wondered if it was just for visitors, or these people didn’t put much value on creature comforts.
    The eating area consisted of rows of long tables with benches to either side. Rich and poor alike could sit next to each other. A counter at the back sectioned off two people who took orders, and through a door behind them lay a kitchen. Only Shadow people were supposed to be in the kitchens and taking orders, guaranteeing tamper-free food. Still, Ruisa insisted, and Sanders agreed, that everyone should eat at the same time, in case any substances found their way into the food.
    “Damn it, they’re all around Sanders…” Ruisa swore.
    At the side of the room in the back, a long table was taken up with all the men. Rohnan sat at the end, eating his meal while scanning the room. Burson sat at the other end, chewing while frowning into his plate. The rest of the guys were quietly talking amongst themselves while inconspicuously glancing around the room. Sanders was in the middle with his familiar scowl.
    “Why shouldn’t they sit next to Sanders?” Marc asked.
    “Because the Inkna know him. Everyone around him will now be targets, too.”
    “Were you sleepwalking to get here—we’re all already targets. They know who we all are!”
    “Maybe, but the guys