She follows.

Puck was mumbling something about hating riddles and Grimalkin said, "They weren't riddles, really. We know that Ethan is with Machina. That was a given, but confirmation is always beneficial. Two, we know Machina is supposedly invincible, and his lair is in the middle of blighted land. And, most important, we know there is someone who knows how to kill him. What about you two?" he asked, looking to the boys. "Did our mighty protectors glean any bits of knowledge or was I the only one paying attention?"

Ash didn't reply, too busy staring down the street, eyes narrowed. Puck shrugged. "Seek out the Keepers of the trees," he muttered. "That's easy enough. I assume we should go back to the park."
"Very good, Goodfellow."
"I try."

She continues on silently.

She stays quiet. She doesn't seem too optimistic about the clues.

Puck and Grim continue talking when Ash suddenly interrupted. "Explain later." His voice was low and harsh. "We need to go. Now." As he said it, the streetlamps, and every artificial light on the block, sputtered and went out. Faery lights glowed overhead as both Ash and Puck called them into existence. Footsteps echoed in the shadows, getting closer, coming from all directions. Grim muttered something and disappeared. Puck and Ash stepped so they were flanking the girls

She looks around in confusion.

She smirks, seeming excited despite her earlier quietness as she has vines in her hand. She looks around, seeing trees and bushes, clearly, she had the upper hand on whatever this was.

Beyond the ring of light, dark shapes shuffled towards them. As they came into the light, faery fire washed over the faces of humans--normal men and women--their features blank as they lurched forward. Most of them carried weapons, iron pipes and metal baseball bats and knives. The muscles coiled under Ash's skin. "Humans," he muttered, his hand dropping to his sword. "What are they doing? They shouldn't be able to see us."

A dark chuckle rose from the ranks shambling toward them, and the mob abruptly stopped. They moved aside as a woman floated between them, hands on her slender hips. She wore a business suit of poison greed, three-inch heels, and green lipstick that glowed with radioactive brightness. Her hair appeared to be made of wires, thin network cables of various colors: greens, blacks, and reds.

She stares at the woman.

She sneers in disgust.