This time, when Zerxus stares at him, it isn't with stunned regret; his gaze is bewildered, but in a tender sort of way.

"You - have barely been conscious for thirty seconds, and you're trying to reassure me." A bit haltingly, he reaches up to rest a hand on Neal's, and takes a slow, deep breath.

"Right. The Tower is still out, I think, at least for now. The safest place..."

Does he still follow that first instinct?

"It's not her fault."

There's a brief shudder, a ripple of tension, before his jaw sets. Whatever Evandrin meant, it doesn't - it can't matter, not right now. "We need to go underground. How do you feel, right now?"