Hail Mary, full of grace. Our Lord is with thee.

"My love."

Kirei's lips parted in faint surprise. He turned and her arms were around him, her fingers swan-feathers on his hard dusty neck.

"Claudia," he said, but the memory was too far away. Nothing came.

His wife laughed, a hacking peal of delight. She was hanging light off him, her white slip billowing. She nuzzled his cheek and her eye-bandage brushed his brow.

"Oh, Kirei, my love. We're going to have a baby."

"Caren," he said in his cut-cable voice. "Her name is Caren and she will never know her mother." But his voice vanished across time's silent reaches.

Claudia beamed and dropped to the ground. Even now her bones dug into him, disease-worn. Like fraying toothpicks. Just one brush -

No, no. If he could love anything it would be a dying girl.

"No words, my love? I knew it. You're just as delighted as me, aren't you?"

Their marriage was a ravine. She was the shining village maiden, smoothing the sheer drops with nothing but her beloved's likeness.

"Yes."

This lie was real. He had said it back then.

"You love me, don't you?"

"Yes."

She cupped his cheeks in her quivering hands, ran them over his melancholy edges.

"You're a good man, Kirei. God will save you."

And she had kissed him, pouring her desperate self into his empty aching soul.

Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb,

"My love! What are you doing to Caren? No, stop!"

The scream stopped him. He looked, dazed, at the wailing baby under his arm. Down at the kitchen table, at the scattered knives. At the black hilt just brushing his fingers.

"I... she was crying..."

She stormed up, snatched the bundle, and with all the strength she could muster slapped him in the face. Any harder and her hand would have shattered. As it was her bones nearly bent.

"You... I..." breathed Claudia, lips white.

He touched his unmarred cheek. Her gasps gave way to helpless wails. He took a step forwards, arms wavering useless at his waist.

"Claudia, I don't know what happened. Forgive me."

"Don't worry," choked Claudia. "It doesn't matter. You're a good man, Kirei. I know it."

His hands fell. Mother and child huddled until only one was crying.

Jesus.

He gave her the last rites and stood back.

"My love."

Her voice shone pale at the edges, like bright patches of skull. She lay in their bed like a corpse. The sickness had nibbled and gnawed and finally torn at her, invisible teeth taking more flesh with every passing day.

"Come here, my love."

The room loomed silent. He touched her cheek, feeling the bone beneath.

"I'm leaving now. We'll meet in heaven, my love. Take good care of Caren. I know you can. You will."

She wandered, breathless, then seemed to remember. A clatter of pills. She opened the bottle, wrestling, and sighed as it popped open.

He watched as she emptied it, slow and intent. He did not stop her, though his hands were shaking. Capsules spilled on her dress and lodged in her teeth. She swallowed and choked and coughed and choked again. Then she composed herself. Saliva ran down her neck, bubbling peaceably.

"Oh, no. You shouldn't cry for me," she breathed. But she was smiling, like it was all she'd hoped for.

It was the last thing she said before the convulsions.

Holy Mary, Mother of God,

And there was the truth. The truth that drove all hope of salvation from his eyes.

He should have loved her. He wanted to love her. He had married her to love her. But her love sparked nothing. He was the abyss, with only one desire. She had thrown her all into him, believing, and smiling she had broken to pieces in his depths.

He had not cried because Claudia was dying. The tears had sprung unbidden from his soul.

She was leaving by her own hand. He would never get to kill her himself.

pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.

Amen.