Rests were short and fitful, and he was glad for every stop they made where he could hide behind something suitably tall in a dark place and give his glamour a rest. If he ever got out of here alive and without a geas, he was going to go straight back to the minotaur disguise, because Jesus was this a pain in the ass. Maybe one day, like his auspex, he'd grow used to it and have exercised the ability enough that the pain would be negligible. Today was not that day.