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Derrick pauses, regarding me with pursed lips.

“Because, you unbearably obtuse woman, we’re in the middle of a precarious truce between the Seelie Queen and Unseelie King.

” He returns to his energetic excavating efforts.

“Once the latter catches wind of his warriors’ demise, that fragile peace will shatter quicker than your mortal nerves.

The King will assume the Queen’s declared open war. ”

Derrick tosses another shovelful of dirt aside, movements sharp with urgency. “Burying the evidence buys Aithinne time to prepare her forces.” His glow dims as he adds softly, almost to himself, “Time for them to keep pretending there’s a way to avoid a slaughter.”

I still at his ominous words, my insides turning to ice. Apparently, I’ve already started a war between ancient, lethal monarchs mere hours after clawing myself from the cold earth. Bloody perfect.

“I didn’t mean to provoke a conflict my first day back among the living,” I say. “Seems excessive, even for me. I think.”

Derrick just shakes his head, expression grim.

“There’s no point apologising. This was inevitable.

” He returns to shovelling soil and debris with a single-minded focus.

“One of them had to make the first move. They’ve delayed the final confrontation as long as possible, hoping another solution would present itself.

” His expression tightens. “It didn’t. Now events will unfold quickly, ready or not. ”

I stare at his hunched shoulders as I hook my hands under the second corpse’s arms and drag it over the pit’s edge.

It lands on the first with a crunch. I find myself lingering, fingertips ghosting over the intricate whorls etched into the slain warrior’s vambrace.

He can’t have seen more than a century or two, this one.

Practically an infant by the long measure of the fae.

My chest squeezes at the waste, the senselessness of it all. I glance back at the pixie’s shadowed face. “Isn’t there another way to resolve their feud? Can’t I explain it was my fault to the Unseelie King? Make him see reason?”

Derrick barks out a sharp, mirthless laugh. “This isn’t some harmless spat over pasture rights. One of them has to die for our world to survive. Best we stay clear of the blast radius and let fate run its course.”

I fall silent once more, the weight of his grim proclamation ringing in my ears.

No other options left. Only violence and more death loom on the horizon.

But layered beneath my frustration simmers an emotion I can’t quite name.

A kernel of irrational hope that this coming confrontation could be avoided.

But my memories offer no alternative solutions. Only the certainty that there is one. I just can’t access the damn thing.

Derrick pauses, eyeing me as if sensing the direction of my troubled thoughts.

“I know that mulish expression. Don’t go entertaining whatever fool heroic notion just popped into your empty head.

” His voice softens a fraction as he adds, “Some roads only end one way, no matter how we wish otherwise.”

Frustration knots my shoulders. I bite back a sharp retort and turn my attention to rolling the final corpse into place with more force than necessary. The body lands on the other two, their armour clanking together.

I exhale, trying to release the tension coiling tighter within me by the second. “Tell me about the monarchs. I’m operating without my memories to guide me.”

Derrick makes a noncommittal noise. “They were born of the same source, brother and sister. But she gained a conscience first and tried to bind his violent nature.” His lips thin, bitterness creeping into his tone.

“Not that her mercy did much good in the end. He’s a rabid animal who needs to be put down. ”

I flinch, his cold words landing like blows. An echo of pain slices through my chest as if in empathy. “You truly think he’s beyond saving?”

“He’s a plague on this earth.” Derrick’s words snap like a whip, startling me with their vehemence.

Clearly, this subject has struck a nerve.

His small frame vibrates with outrage as he continues, “The land itself dies a little more each day that he still draws breath. Only one of them can walk away from their final clash. For all our sakes, it had better be her.”

For one wavering moment, I see it again—two diverging paths stretched out before me. One ends in salvation, the other in ruin.

I shut my eyes, steeling myself. Then, I reach for the past. Strain against that stubborn wall severing me from who I was.

I’m assaulted by a maelstrom of blurred images and muffled words, none distinct enough to grasp before they’re gone.

But lacing it all is a sense of urgency that leaves my hands unsteady, my breath coming short and fast. A feeling that we’re balanced on the crux of something: a pivotal moment I can still change.

Pain slams through my temples, and I bite my tongue, suppressing a cry. The crushing pressure builds behind my eyes until I fear my skull might split apart and spill its secrets.

With a pained gasp, I release my desperate hold on the fraying memory and return to myself. I’m kneeling in the dirt, fingers knotted into my hair. Slowly, I uncurl them, focusing on steadying each inhale and exhale until the throbbing recedes to a faint, distant ache.

“What was that about?” Derrick hovers before me.

I scrub a shaky hand over my face. “I tried to force my memories back. It was a spectacular failure.”

Derrick tsks in disapproval. “As I suspected. Your little sojourn six feet under likely scrambled that fragile mortal brain. Be grateful you can still walk and dress yourself without assistance.”

“We’re running out of time.” The quiet words drop like stones in the stillness between us. They ring with grim portent, sending a shiver down my spine. But their meaning continues to elude me.

Derrick frowns down at me. “What are you on about now?”

I just shake my head. There are no answers to give.

One step at a time. Survive this moment first.

Bury the dead.