She seemingly doesn't care.

Ash took her hand and pressed it to the cloth, holding it to her cheek. "Here. The bleeding's stopped, but keep pressure on it for a bit just to be sure." His hand lingered on hers, cool and smooth, though he wouldn't meet her eyes. "I'm sorry, Isiea."

She shrugs. "It's fine."

He nodded and 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," it was possible to hear him mutter, "What are you thinking?"

She stands, too. "We should get going. I'd bet that wasn't the only group, and they'll realize that if their friends didn't return that they'll need to send more."

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 wouldn't close. It was obvious he didn't 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."

"He probably has it."

"Right. Which is why we need to go, as you suggested."

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 didn't quite touch the ground as they stamped and shifted, regarding them with eerie intelligence. Ash offered to help her into one's saddle.

Her expression saddens a little. "We forgot Ares.."

"I'm sorry. After I return you, I'll try to get him back to you."