The guards surged forward, barking orders and producing restraints as they convened on Griffin's unconscious body. If only he was stronger, if only he was alone, Altan would have jumped right back into the fray to save him. But Sophie was with him now, the guards were momentarily distracted, and he needed to leave immediately or his little rescue mission would have been for nothing. Clutching Griffins sword in one hand, and Sophie in the other, he scrambled onto Knax and screamed at her to run.
And so they ran. And ran. And ran. Past soldiers who began to gave chase, through the city gates, and out into the barren desert. His thoughts spiralled and his head pounded as he wracked his brain for a solution to this mess. I'm so stupid! What do I do now!? I can't just leave, I have fat chance of surviving on my own out here and I need to try and save Griffin. But how am I going to keep Sophie safe? Or better yet, how am I even going to get her home? I need help, but I know no one, and the second someone realizes who I am, or that I'm a human, I'm going to be captured, killed, or worse. So what can I do? He squeezed Knax's fur and through strained pants she whimpered. Sophie clung to him for dear life as Knax bolted through the deserts in long, panicked strides. I need allies.
Through adrenaline and despair, it came to him. Rubbing away a blanket of hot tears Altan shakily pulled out his crumpled map and set them on a course for the nearest town. His only hope was to escape to Aria, the better part of three days to the South, and pray that he would find a tavern marked in red there. If there was, then he could get in contact with Bridget or at the bare minimum find some temporary refuge. And if there wasn't well...
He was a dead man walking.

                                        *    *    *

     Between riding day and night, only stopping to use the washroom, and Knax being an absolute trooper, what was supposed to be nearly a three day trip took only two. After the spike of adrenaline wore from his veins, Altan discovered that he had an ugly gash slicing through the length of his calf, and every time he dismounted Knax it reopened, spilling fresh gouts of blood into the sand. This injury was on top of the arrowhead still buried in his upper arm, and the deep bite wound on his shoulder that had begun to produce puss and a rancid smell. Every move he made, every jolt of Knax's body, sent spears of pain up his arm. Without Griffin there to heal him, it was all he could to do since through the pain and try to keep a brave face for Sophie. Sophie muttered little else but apologies, and even those trickled away as a lack of food or water sapped at her tiny strength.
Now, Aria rose on the horizon, nestled so peacefully against a sparkling sea. They were moving as a modest pace, storing what little energy they had left for the task ahead. Darkly, Altan thought that if he was going to die, at least it would be in a pretty tropical place. The strange bleached white desert trees that swayed by the water reminded him of Florida. Of home.
       "Sophie." He croaked gently, his voice scratchy and hoarse.
        The small child stirred in his lap, rubbing at sleep caked eyes. "What? Are we there yet?"
       "Yes, we're here. I'm going to need you to hold on really tight and close your eyes for me, okay? It's going to be a little scary for a few minutes, but we'll be okay."
         Fear crept up on her dusty face as she watched Altan unsheathe Griffin's sword. "Promise?"
        Altan smiled down sadly at her as a knot twisted in his stomach. "I promise."
        "I want my papa..." She mumbled as she buried her face into Altan's chest, clinging weakly to his shirt.
        All Altan could do was nod.
        A few hundred meters away, Altan could make out the shiny black armour of two guards barring the main entrance to the city. At two hundred meters, he could see the guards stiffen, drawing their swords. Although it was unlikely word had reached them so soon, a lone rider with a child on a fennecainx was a suspicious sight. One of them retreated into the city. At one hundred meters the guards shouted at him to halt. Instead, Altan took a breath, and charged.
       Seventy five. The yelling got louder.
       Fifty. An alarm sounded.
       Twenty five. A wall of sand blasted in front of Knax, but she crashed through it.
        Zero.
        One guard was trampled under Knax's blazing form as Altan took the head of the second one cleanly off with his sword. They erupted through the entrance, streaking through narrow streets towards the heart of the town as Black Guard began spilling into the alleys. Bolts of magic cracked into the walls around them but Knax bobbed and weaved and bounded through the assault, turning sharply on Altan's command to switch streets and provide them with momentary cover. Their breach was sudden and unexpected, and Knax was fast. The guards were left behind in their dust, but Altan knew that time was against them.
Come on... come on... there!
Nestled between a cluster of palm-like trees stood a thatch tavern, 'The Smelly Olive' printed neatly on a sun-bleached sign. Above the squat door was a single red stripe of paint. Altan's heart leapt into his throat and clutching Sophie he hurled himself off of Knax, throwing open the door and rushing inside. The barkeep, a fit looking man with cropped hair and a long beard, startled in the quiet interior as Altan barged in. When Knax crammed into the small interior behind him, the barkeep quickly placed down the mug he was cleaning and began to circle the bar. His eyes darted between Altan, Sophie, and the massive creature crowding the small space with a growing look of concern.
"Hey, HEY! Who are-"
"Surprise me!"
"What?!"
"I don't care what you make me to drink- surprise me!"
The gears clicked in the man's mind and he paused then, eyes sweeping over Altan's battered body. "Do you have any preferences...?"
Oh thank God. "Make it blind."
A few beats of silence passed as the man continued to glare at him warily, reluctant to move. Outside, Altan began to hear voices shouting. Tears welled up in Sophie's eyes and she clung to his leg, beginning to shake and cry.
Altan's eyes begged the man. "Please."
With a sigh he nodded, hurriedly circling around behind the trio and ushering them behind the counter. Hoisting up a thick straw carpet, a large trap door was revealed underneath, flush with the pale wooden floor. He heaved the thick door up, giving way to an unlit cellar carved into the sandstone underneath the tavern, lined with sealed wooden kegs and spare dusty jars.
"Go, go." He hissed, waving them in.
The cellar was dark, cool, and cramped, and it was a miracle that Knax somehow managed to squeeze into the tiny room. But she did, and the man swiftly yet quietly sealed the door above them, soft scratches from above indicating that he had pulled the stiff carpet back into place. Seconds after he'd successfully stowed them away, Altan heard the thatch door slam open, and several heavy footsteps flood into the room above them. His heart beat so loud that Altan was genuinely afraid that the soldiers would hear it. Sophie whimpered in his arms and he shushed her quietly, stroking her hair in every effort to keep her quiet.
Altan caught bits and pieces of the intense exchange above as the Black Guard interrogated the barkeep, asking if he'd seen Altan or his troupe in the area. The barkeep, feigning shock and concern, reported that he'd seen the persons in question running past, providing a false direction to the guards who turned and left in fake pursuit of Altan as quickly as they had came.
An eternity of pregnant silence passed.
Then, the carpet moved, the trap door was lifting, and a frazzled face was peering down into the darkness from above. "This had better be worth it or I'll hand your head on a platter to the guards myself."