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the direction they wanted to go, forced them to back-peddle into the alley next to the building, opposite their planned escape route. Einar blocked her view, putting his large frame in front of hers as they pressed close to the alley wall and listened.
    The heavy fall of booted feet clicked across the cobbled streets. Listening carefully, she thought she heard two, maybe three different individuals. But since they didn’t speak, she couldn’t be sure. She and Einar waited for a long while, listening to those boot steps. The sounds faded in and out but there was always at least one person on the road at any given time, making it impossible for her and Einar to go that direction.
    She studied the opposite end of the alleyway in frustration. It was a dead end, and at any rate, led them back toward the original group of minions they’d just escaped.
    The feel of Einar’s breath at her ear made her jump.
    “More minions,” he said. “Heading away. When I move, don’t hesitate.”
    She squeezed his arm in understanding and turned her focus on his shoulder, braced to run when he did.
    As she waited, a sound carried to her across the wind and Einar’s back stiffened. She strained to catch more of the noise. Shouts. The clashing of metal. The sharp swack of a bowstring releasing. Her heartbeat accelerated.
    “A fight, only a street or two over,” she murmured. “Sinnale soldiers must have found one of the minion groups.”
    He nodded in agreement, though he never took his attention from the minions in the street ahead of them. He raised a hand, a silent warning to prepare, and then sprinted across the road. She followed, racing a step behind him. When they made the next alley, he paused and lifted his head, listening.
    She could hear it too, more joining the fight. A full-blown skirmish was underway.
    “The others are joining the fight,” Einar said. “More minions will make their way toward it.”
    “What do we do? Should we help? Or…”
    He shook his head before she could finish. “Sinnale will assume we’re traitor elves. Minions will try to kill or capture us. We need to avoid the fight, find another hiding spot.”
    “The minions will just continue searching. Where can we be safe?”
    As he considered their options, they watched another small group of minions race by, heading toward the growing conflict.
    “Opposite the fight and toward Sinnale territory,” Einar finally said. “As we originally planned. This skirmish is deep in Noman’s Land. The Sinnale soldiers are probably all over the area hunting the minions. Neither side will have time to look for two missing elves for hours, maybe not for the rest of the night if the Sinnale win these fights and drive the minions back to Sorcerer territory.”
    “We’ll have to avoid human patrols too,” she pointed out.
    “They aren’t looking for us. We can hide from them. We just need an empty building, no human squatters.”
    Carefully, and sticking close to the buildings, they made their way through the deserted, ramshackle part of the city that was the buffer between the two warring parties. The occasional gas lamp provided small pools of light, but most of them were dark. The closer they got to the Sinnale border, the fewer patches of light there were.
    Twice they ducked into dark recesses to avoid human patrols. Once they nearly walked out into the path of a minion group. And once they had to change direction to avoid another skirmish. First moon was high overhead by the time they found an empty building that Einar deemed a suitable hiding spot.
    Inside, they quietly searched the three levels of the small building, checking for the presence of others likely to return. Every room and corridor was covered in dust that looked undisturbed for months, maybe years. Einar checked the roof as well, assessing possible escape routes. When he was satisfied they were as safe as they could be for the night, he motioned her back inside.
    “I’ll call an owl.