She nods, staring at the ground, she looks at her hands, seeming frightened an confused.

He lifted the rag, and he froze for a moment. There were a dozen emotions that crossed his face before he took a quiet breath and very carefully pressed the cloth to her cheek.

"Ash, what is it?" She asks quietly.

Though his expression was closed and businesslike after that first glance, his fingers were gentle. Ash took her hand and pressed it to the cloth, holding it to her cheek. "Here. The bleedings stopped, but keep pressure on it for a bit just to be sure." His hand lingered on hers, cool and smooth. "I'm sorry, Claire."

"What for?" She mutters, looking up at him.

"For Rowan. For all of this." He rose and walked to where Edgebriar had fallen. Now only a black, thorny bush marked the place where he had died, and Ash glared at it as if it might come back to life. "Rowan," he muttered. "What are you thinking?"

"Your gonna jinx it, just watch, he'll show up now." She scoffs, glaring down at the bush. "They are all insane."

He was quiet a moment, brooding. The shock of discovering that his brother was responsible for betraying all of Faery was still new, like a wound that wouldnt close. It was obvious he didnt want to believe it. "Nothing's changed," he said at last, his voice cold and resolved. "The scepter is still out there, and if Rowan knows where it is, he isn't going to tell us. When this is over, Mab will decide what to do with Rowan, but the scepter comes first, agreed?"

She hums in agreement, staring at the plant silently.

"Let's get out of here." Four horses stood waiting at the cave entrance; faery steeds with jet-black coats, lightning-colored manes, and glowing, white-blue eyes. Their slender hooves didnt quite touch the ground as they stamped and shifted, regarding the duo with eerie intelligence. Ash offered to help Claire into one's saddle.