She kills her lover on the altar of a foreign goddess. It is the month of beginning, and the valley is flat and green. The sanctuary stands in the darkening sky, with no attendants in sight. Derceto walks past the temple’s columns. In her arms, her baby stares with eyes as big and bright as moons. Don’t worry, Derceto thinks. It will be over soon.

She finds him in the main chamber, his body shrouded in shadows. The muscles in his shoulders tense as he polishes the altar with loving care, as if it were a woman he had under his hands, not a piece of stone.

He turns when he hears her. His expression is torn between panic and pity. She can’t help but remember the wonder his eyes held the first time he saw her. Is this all you feel for me now? she wants to ask. Instead, she holds the baby toward him. “This is your child.”

“You can’t do this, Derceto,” he says. “You can’t haunt me. You must live without me.”

I can’t. She knows she is weak. All her life she has walked in the darkness, fearing every shadow, every spirit. He was her only light, until he pushed her away and her world grew cold again. Somehow, she can’t find the light within herself.

“Don’t you want to hold your child?” She is aware of the desperation in her voice, but it doesn’t matter. There is no dignity left in her.

He blinks. “That is no child of mine.”

Suddenly she is furious, her pulse throbbing. You won’t leave us behind. She walks closer until their faces are only inches apart. He tries to push her back, but she shoves the baby into his arms. He takes her despite himself, wincing when the baby starts to cry. For a moment his face softens, a glimpse of affection.

Derceto takes a knife out of her vest—the one she found outside the temple, used by votaries to sacrifice pigs and doves. He doesn’t have time to react. She stabs the blade into his chest, and they cry out in unison, as if both were wounded. Blood flows between them, wetting his white tunic and her dark dress. The knife stands in his chest, like an evil limb.

He looks at the blade in shock. “This is my goddess punishing me,” he whispers.

“No,” Derceto says. “This is me punishing you.”