She left him at the base of the rock, patting his hind quarters to send him plundering off into the low hills alone. His hoof prints and presence would confuse her pursuers for some time as she made the rest of the way on foot. Now, she couldn't stop though - she had to keep on going and go underground to hide. She had to rely on her own stamina, not that of another animal.
But he had taken her across the land for almost a whole hard day's gallop, and she had to thank the beast for that. At least he was free now, and he would be able to drink, feed and rest soon if destiny was kind to him. Now though her journey had to continue, and despite the fact she was hungry, thirsty and exhausted, she simply had to go on.
Into the darkness and uncertainty.
Her instincts were correct. The shadows did hold a thin vein of a cave. Being skinny and small she was a perfect fit to squeeze between the jagged edges. Celandine angled herself around a sharp outcrop, gritting her teeth and ducking down under a ledge before managing to get into the darkness proper. Almost immediately she felt the dampness that clung to the inside of old cavern systems. Saltiness was heavy in the air, so close that she could feel it in the back of her throat, like a scratchiness that would not go away.
She squinted in the shadows, narrowing her eyes to try to see more, but she was not exactly accustomed to such a dim light. Yes, she had spent three weeks adventuring through the caves and mines initially to firstly rescue the sailors who had brought her to these shores, and then find a safe route to Sanctuary, but those times she had been prepared and had a torch. This adventure had given her no such choice, such as it was with the demon attack on the camp and the chaotic travel over the fields. She cursed quietly in faunish, which she rarely used, and tried taking a few steps but found her foot almost immediately slipping into a narrow stream.
"Drys," she growled and began to head back towards the crevice crack.
But then - the horse's hooves. Their whinnies, and the grunts of their riders. They had gotten much closer, perhaps only just out of the sight of the low hills. It made the young scholar stop dead in her tracks, knowing that where she was was safe, and going onwards was her only possible way forwards.
"Fine, fate," she grumbled to herself, and checked her belongings. Firstly - yes, the sword was still at her back. Secondly - the small bundle of books was at her waist. But she had a knife and some cloth …
Grabbing the closest thing to a torch she could find - a short and stumpy, old and very dead branch - she tore off some of her outer layer, wrapped it around the stick a couple of times and just hoped the air wasn't too damp. Grabbing one of the only things she knew to always have - spark rocks - she tried and -
Light. Brilliant light. That illuminated the wide cave around her, with a channel leading down and away deeper into the darkness, a meandering old stream as a guide. Luck was on her side.
Taking a deep breath, Celandine nodded to herself and began to walk.
Deeper. Darker. Into more danger.
But perhaps luck was with her.
Internally, the scholar followed the memories of the map, finding that she was almost able to precisely remember the routes that had been marked on Raimneth's old papers. The more she thought, the more the memories seemed to jump to her aid, as if by some deeper magic, or perhaps more of her blessing from the tree goddess Drys, the one whom her mother was a high priestess of and whom Celandine had seen many times in her dreams. The harder Celandine imagined the more the image came to her as clear as if the map was right in front of her. Suddenly, precisely, she knew where to go, the knowledge dawning like the break of day.
Grasping the base of her ridiculous torch the faun set ahead with full determination.
