love is the voice under all silences

It was Persephone’s favourite time of the vigil; a little after midnight, and the temple was deserted, silent, and dark. During the day, the huge stained glass windows let in the sunlight, to pool in all the colours of the rainbow on the wooden floors. The sacred flame, the only source of light at night, burned brightly at the altar in front of the statue of the beta Goddess Ancamna. She was magnificent, and Persephone was always reminded of how small she was, merely a novice priest and a reluctant one. She watched the play of light on the marble statue, making the folds in the Lady’s gown appear to move. Three nights ago, Novice Sister Clare swore she had seen Ancamna step down from her plinth and walk around the temple. Brother Peter had discovered that a window had been opened, and the breeze had made the ferns move, that grew around the sides of the apse. A simple trick of the light, and Sister Clare’s tiredness.
      Every night, Persephone sat on a bench in front of the Lady and tried to count her blessings, as Reverend Mother had advised. Being alive was supposed to be a great blessing, after the terrible war. But it was hardly a blessing in Persephone’s heart. All she wanted, all she had ever wanted, was a home of her own. If it came with a kind, gentle mate and children, they would be a welcome bonus, but she had sense enough not to ask for miracles, no matter how much her heart longed for them. She asked Reverend Mother why she had been given the late night vigil, to be told it was to give her time to think. Thinking was the problem. Six months had passed since her brothers and their mates had given her to the temple, as the only unbonded member of her family, after their parents had long gone. No one to care for her, and no one for her to care for.
      At this point in her thoughts she usually had to fish in the pocket of her robe, to find a handkerchief and mop up her tears, while scolding herself for her stupidity. A senior priest would be arriving soon to take over the vigil, he would notice that she had been crying and there would be concerned lectures, and yet again she would have to explain herself to Reverend Mother. If she had to see Mother’s office one more time….

      Footsteps sounded on the wooden floored aisle, but not those she would have recognised as belonging to Brother Francis, the next vigilant. Someone was walking towards the altar and the statue of Ancamna, keeping close to the shadows in the aisle. An insomniac worshipper, looking for guidance from the Lady, perhaps? Well, they could ask; she had never received any guidance no matter how often she asked. The intruder had reached the light of the sacred flame, and Persephone mentally admonished herself for thinking of the visitor so unsympathetically. She was surprised to see a strange young man standing in the light, looking up into the face of Ancamna. He was a little taller than Persephone, his clothes were rough and shabby, his black hair was spiky and unkempt, and there was a smudge of dirt on his face. As he stood, unaware that he had company, Persephone was conscious of a faint scent of ginger, warm, spicy, and delicious. At the moment that he turned and saw her, she realised that he couldn’t be a beta, not with his scent percolating around the apse of the temple.
      He stood, absolutely still, staring at her with intense concentration. What did he expect her to do, shout for help? Everyone was welcome, at any time of the day or night. She had the sudden urge to laugh, but fearing that he would run, she merely smiled, as friendly and welcoming as she could.
"May I help you?" she said. He still stared, and Persephone was astonished to see that he was shaking. She pretended she hadn’t noticed and indicated the towering form of the Lady.
"Splendid, isn’t she?" she said. "Our version is rather unique. As you can see she doesn’t have a sacred pool around her feet, and she is holding a trident. We have no idea why our statue is so different." She stood up, and he stepped back one pace.
"It’s all right," she said gently, "no one would ever harm you in the temple." For some unfathomable reason, she felt that it was vital that she help him. A nudge from the Lady? She could have sworn that the statue’s stern, uncompromising expression transformed into an approving smile, and that Ancamna nodded. But that could have been an effect from the flickering sacred flame, and time was passing.
"A senior priest will be here soon," she said. "Perhaps you don’t want to be here when he turns up?"
He shook his head.
"All right, come on then," she took hold of his hand. He tried to pull away, but she persisted and he gave in with a deep sigh, allowing her to guide him around the statue, through the apse, to the small door at the back.
"Stay here," she whispered. "I have to hand over to the next vigilant, but I’ll come back in a minute. You can hear everything I say from here, so you’ll know I won’t give you away."
      She heard footsteps clattering on the wooden floor of the nave, disturbing the peace. She stepped out into the open, aware that the young man had moved into the darkness.
"Sister Persephone," Brother Francis called, his voice carrying through the whole temple and sounding every syllable. He was a tall man, for a beta, middle aged, grey-haired, and had spent his whole life in the service of the Lady. He wore the temple around him like a cloak and he walked with the certainty of being in a familiar space, his space. He stepped close to her, took hold of her chin, and turned her face to the light.
"No tears tonight then?" he said, smiling. "Perhaps you’re settling down after all. We’ll make a good priest of you yet, lassie."
"You believe in miracles, do you?" Persephone said tartly. The priest laughed.
"Why fight it?" he said, "I know you didn’t chose this life, but it’s not so bad. Just let go of yourself girl and let the Lady guide you." He patted her shoulder. Persephone gritted her teeth. If she let go of any more of herself, there would be nothing for the Lady to guide. She had begun losing bits of herself from the moment her parents died, and her brothers’ mates started talking about her as a burden they had to bear. Brother Francis sat down on a bench at the feet of the statue.
"Now off you go," he said, waving a hand in dismissal. "The Lady and I have a lot to talk about. I’ll mention you to her." Aye, and you’ll bend her ear, poor Lady, Persephone thought as she walked to the door at the back of the apse. When she reached the young man she looked back, but the priest had his hands over his face as he communed with Ancamna. She took the young man’s trembling hand in hers, and opened the door.

      Outside the temple, the world was silent and empty. A cold, spiteful wind was blowing, sending eddies of leaves and petals whirling across the courtyard.
"We’re still in the temple grounds here," she said quietly. "This is the cloister." She led her strange visitor across the courtyard to another small wooden door set into the wall. She fumbled with the latch and shoved hard against the door.
"Sorry," she said, pushing as hard as she could, "the rain makes the wood warp."
The young man set his shoulder against the door and rammed it. He almost fell over when the door swung open, but Persephone caught him. They stood for a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, arms around each other. She tore herself away first, and was surprised at how much of a wrench it was. It was the first time, in years that she had been held by anyone.
"Come on," she said. "No one comes around here, but you never know."
A collection of cottages appeared on the other side of a wide lawn. "This is where the old priests live," she said, "if they don’t have families to go to. I like to stay here as it’s quiet, and no one bothers me."
The man frowned and raised his eyebrows. "Well not bother me, bother me," Persephone said with a smile. "I just like being on my own." He still stared at her. "All right, I don’t like being on my own," she said. "But if I room near the other priests, they just have to poke their noses in, asking me why I cry myself to sleep most nights, why I don’t join in. I don’t want to be here anyway so why should I join in? Why can’t I be unhappy? Why do we all have to be happy, clappy, hey it’s great to be a priest? Hmm? Can you answer that?"
He still did not speak.
Persephone led him to the last cottage in the row. She took a key out of her pocket and unlocked the door.
"Something else I get nagged about," she muttered. "Why do I lock my door?" She sighed, and led him inside.
      The cottage consisted of three rooms with plain white-washed stone walls and wooden floors, each smaller than the others.
"Bathroom through there," she said, pointing at a door in the far wall. "Sink and etcetera for making tea over there." She pointed to a room that was not much more than a cubby-hole. The main room was obviously for sleeping. "The others like to go to the common rooms when they’re not sleeping," she said. "I don’t. I stay here." There were piles of books, old, with worn leather covers, a small table with a broken leg tied up with string, and a wooden chair by the window. She noticed that the young man looked at the only bed with something like panic on his face.
"I’ll make up somewhere you can sleep," she said. "I’ve got lots of extra blankets, sheets and pillows. Will that do you?"
When he didn’t answer, she gently pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed and sat beside him. She laid one hand against the back of his head. He dropped his head onto her shoulder and she stroked his black hair, giving in to a need to comfort him.
"Look," she said, "I don’t know what’s happened to you so you can’t even speak. But honestly, no one would ever harm you here. And you can stay as long as you want. I won’t give you away. And if you decide you don’t want to stay here, the temple of Nemetoma isn’t too far away. I could take you there if you like."
"No," he said, a little muffled. "They’ll just send me back." His voice was quiet and gentle; she liked it. She gently kissed his forehead. "So you can stay here," she said. He looked alarmed and she smiled. "I’m a beta remember," she said. "So you can be as smelly as you want and it won’t bother me." That made him smile, and for some reason, she felt strangely happy.
He sat up, and she stood up from the bed. "I’m going to make some chamomile tea," she said, "would you like some? It might help you sleep. If you want to make yourself a bed, there’s blankets and stuff in that cupboard." She pointed at a door beside the little table. He smiled again and nodded. At least he’d found some of his voice. Being the only one to talk all the time was wearying and she was running out of bright things to say. He was obviously an omega, not that she’d met many omegas before. She watched him while she boiled a kettle and set out the tea things. He was very good-looking, even beautiful. Amazing that she hadn’t noticed that before. It was just as well as good-looking men made her tongue-tied and nervous. His eyes were dark, and she liked the shape of his ears. That thought made her smile. As if it mattered what shape a person’s ears were. She wondered what he thought of her, with her close-cropped, nondescript, light brown hair, green eyes, and funny little round nose. Why should he think anything of her though? Just a scared omega who ran away from gods know what. For one moment she wished she was tall and willowy, like an alpha, or designed to be attractive, like an omega. Not a plain, boring, utilitarian beta.
      He had got out a couple of pillows, a sheet, and some blankets, and to her surprise, he actually began to make a nest on the floor next to her bed. While the chamomile flower heads were steeping, she ran out through a door in the little kitchen, which led into a corridor at the back of the cottages. There were a number of cupboards and shelf units along the walls. She came back with a pile of trousers and tunics in blue, white, and green. The nest was now complete, it looked comfortable and she half wished she could share it with him. Both of them, hiding from the world. She gave him the pile of clothes, he took a pair of trousers and a tunic in blue and headed to the bathroom.
      Persephone sat down on the wooden chair. What had happened to him? Was that a clue, that he was uneasy about staying here with her? Had some arrogant, beefy alpha hurt him? She smiled at herself as she felt a rush of anger and a desire to protect him. Of course it was the omega thing. Everyone protected them and looked after them. While lonely, homeless betas like herself had to look out for themselves. And now she was descending into a spiral of despair again. She covered her face with her hands and hunched down.
      A gentle hand stroked the back of her neck. She looked up and tried to smile, with tears brimming in her eyes.
"I’m supposed to be looking after you," she said, wiping the tears, "not the other way around."
"We could try looking after each other," he said.
She laid her head on his shoulder, so utterly weary and fed up with herself.
"Omegas aren’t usually expected to look after anyone," he said, and put his arms around her. "But we’re really not incapable." He lightly kissed her forehead. "Go on," he said, "I’ll pour the tea out and you go to bed."
She fished her nightgown from under the pillow and went into the bathroom. By the time she came back, changed, face washed and hair brushed, and in her right mind again, two cups of steaming golden tea were waiting on the table. For a moment she thought he had disappeared, but then she heard shuffling coming from inside the nest. She got down on her knees and peered in. He had taken off the tunic and trousers she had given him and wrapped himself in a blanket. She passed a cup of tea to him.
"What should I call you?" she said. "You know my name is Persephone."
"Tom," he said, "Tom will do." He gave her the empty cup back.
So, not ‘my name is Tom’ but ‘Tom will do’. Interesting. She drank her tea and climbed into bed.
"Goodnight Tom," she said, "Ancamna and Nematoma watch over you."
"And you too," he said, from inside his nest.
Persephone switched off the light and snuggled down under the blankets. For the first time since she had entered service to the temple, she fell fast asleep at once.

      Tom was just waking up when Persephone came out of the bathroom, ready for the day. She peeped into the nest and he smiled sleepily. And again, it felt like her heart had turned over. Which was ridiculous.
"Good morning," she said brightly. "I’m going to go and forage for breakfast, won’t be long."
She went out into the corridor, through the door from the tiny kitchen. One of the temple servants was busy taking trays into the rooms of the elderly priests. As usual, knowing she was there, the server had left enough food for her to feed three people. She grabbed a tray and loaded it with plates, cutlery and two glasses of orange juice, as well as two heaps of scrambled eggs and toast. She had to be quick before the server came back and noticed that she had taken two sets of everything. There was a high, querulous voice coming from the room the server had gone into, and she silently blessed that elderly priest for being a distraction.
      By the time she returned to her cottage, Tom was washed and dressed, and had even tidied up his nest, piling the blankets and pillows onto her bed. He accepted his share of breakfast and there was silence while they both ate. After stacking the used crocks in the little kitchen sink, Persephone sat on the bed next to Tom.
"Tom," she said.
"Persephone," he said, smiling.
She grinned back at him, but was serious again in a moment. "Tom, do you have any plans?"
Tom laid back on the bed with his hands behind his head. "None at all," he said. "Why? Am I in the way here?"
"Oh no," she said, "no, you could never be in the way." She blushed. Stupid, stupid, stupid. "It’s just, if you decide to leave, please would you…..would you take me with you? I promise I’d never be in your way and it might be easier with two of us. Won’t look so odd, I mean."
"Why would you want to leave here?"
"I can’t stay here much longer or I’ll go crackers. I never wanted to be a priest. I’m not like Francis, that other priest you saw. He came to the temple when he was 5 years old and he’s 50 or 60, or something now. I’d cut my own throat before I stayed that long. Or drowned myself, or something." Tom leaned up on his elbows. "You wouldn’t do that, would you?" he said, frowning. "Isn’t that against some rule or other?"
"I really don’t know. Don’t care either. What else is there to do when all you can see are years and years of nothing, stretching out to the end of time?"
      Tom took hold of her hand. "Let me know if you’re going to do it, and I’ll join you," he said.
Persephone turned to look at him. There was something in his eyes, something haunted, hunted, that made her want to cry. And not for herself this time. She lay down beside him, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close.
"I’m an omega," he said.
"Well there’s a shock," Persephone said, smiling. Tom grinned, briefly.
"My family are all alphas. Three brothers, all giants. Two parents, ditto. And two sisters who are close to being giants. And then there’s me. Little ‘un, shrimp, pipsqueak, runt, tiny, little man, baby boy, and a thousand other ways to describe me. I’m not even the youngest." He stopped for a moment to gather his thoughts.
"Then I grew up and it got worse. My parents decided I needed a mate, and they picked out one for me. An alpha of course. She was huge. At least eight feet tall. Well, all right, I’m exaggerating. Probably more like a bit over six feet tall. Muscles on muscles. She could beat my oldest brother in an arm wrestling match." He grinned when Persephone giggled. "Exaggerating again. They never did arm wrestle, but she’d have beaten him if they did. And she actually picked me up. Slung me up into her arms, like I was a child. My brothers thought that was hilarious, even my sisters laughed. I was so humiliated. So I left. Walked for three days, scrounging food where I could, no idea where I was going to go. I didn’t care, I wasn’t going to live the rest of my life as a chew toy for a giant woman. And then I saw the light burning in the temple."
      "Thanks for telling me," Persephone said. "I don’t blame you for leaving. Why do families think they have the right to tell everyone else what to do?"
"What’s your story?" Tom said.
"Basically the same, I guess. Older brothers and their mates. Our parents died, and I had lived with them and looked after them, but suddenly that wasn’t possible any more. My older brother’s mate wanted the house for them and their three children, and none of them wanted me there. The other two were busy whistling and looking the other way. Metaphorically of course. No one wanted me, so they said I had to be given to the temple."
"They gave you to the temple?"
Persephone nodded.
"And I thought I had a rotten family," Tom said. "Yes then, if I do decide to leave you can come with me. I know what we could do, we could go to sea and get jobs on a cargo ship. Your hair is pretty short, and if you tie your, them down, you could look like a boy. Well, in the right light." He sat up and looked down at her. "They’re round and not very flat. Would it hurt them to be tied down with a whatchamacallit, a band?" Persephone laughed. Tom was a funny blend of naivety and world weary that was hysterical. Despite having sisters, he didn’t know much about women. The epitome of a protected, sheltered omega. She kissed him on the cheek.
"What am I going to do with you?" she said gently. His expression was uncertain, a little afraid that he had said something wrong. In that moment, Persephone realised, to her dismay, that she loved him. And if something or someone separated them, her heart would break.
"Well, I’d better get on. It’s part of my penance for being unhappy. I have to help Reverend Mother with her correspondence. It’s torture, believe me. Shut in her office for hours." She sat up and started to put on her shoes. "Will you be all right here?"
Tom nodded. "Why are you being punished for being unhappy?" he said.
"You’d have to ask Brother Francis," she said. "I can’t work out if he’s got it in for me, or whether he thinks it’s good for me to be so bored that I just have to be happy. I don’t know, his mind works in the weirdest ways."
Tom stood up and looked out of the little window.
"There’s a garden over there," he said.
"Yes, they take the old ones out to sit there if it’s a nice day."
"And a gardener?"
"Yes, Lay Brother Archie. He’s retiring soon and going to live with his daughter."
"I like gardening," Tom said, "maybe I could help him."
Persephone hugged him. "Great idea," she said. "He’s always complaining that none of the novices are keen to help him. We all came from cities and the most garden we ever had was a widow box or a hanging basket."
"I used to help our gardener, when my mother let me. I loved it."
"Perfect," she said, "that’s you sorted. Now, if you’re hungry at mid-day, just come back here and help yourself to something. They always bring far more food than’s needed. You’ll be all right, honestly. I’ll leave the door unlocked."
"Will you be back this evening?" he said anxiously.
"Yes, and if the refectory isn’t busy, we could have dinner there."
"You don’t think they’d notice me?"
Persephone grinned. "This is a temple, remember? We’re all supposed to have our minds on higher things. No one would notice if an alpha ran through the temple, naked."
Tom giggled at the mental image.
"All right," she said, "I’m going now. Will you be all right?" Now she was the anxious, uncertain one. Tom nodded and hugged her. This was nice, she thought, she could get used to this, being hugged and occasionally kissed. Her feet floated an inch above the ground all the way through the cloister and into the temple.

      Reverend Mother tucked her hands inside her sleeves of her cassock, right hand in the left sleeve, left hand in the right sleeve. Brother Francis shifted his attention to her, while they walked the temple. She was known for that particular gesture when she was about to impart a lecture, a homily or two, or a tart comment about a priest.
"Sister Persephone," she said flatly.
"Ah," Francis said. No need to say anything more. If there was a worry in Mother’s mind, it was always Sister Persephone who caused it. Which was a pity as she was Francis’ favourite novice.
      There was something so lost and vulnerable about that girl. He was not sure why it was important that he help her to accept her place in life. If asked, he would not be able to say if it was on Ancamna’s behalf, or his own. He had spent 45 long, celibate, and lonely years in the service of the Lady, though she had never asked that sacrifice of him. Then Persephone entered the temple, crying, wailing, and absolutely the most reluctant novice he had ever seen. And he knew that his life would no longer be as peaceful and constant as it had been. Recognising his feelings, he was careful to keep his distance from his favourite novice. But at the vigil hand-over — it was true that he had carefully finagled the roster to make sure that his vigil took over from hers. He treasured those few moments alone with her. He hated having to admonish her for giving way to her sorrow, when he longed to hold her close and comfort her.
"What has she done now?" he said, wearily.
"I really do not know," Mother said. Which was astonishing, as Mother knew everything that went on in the temple, to everyone. There was a rumour that she talked with Ancamna every day, and the Lady told her what was going on. It wasn’t true. Probably. But it kept the younger and more credulous of the community to heel.
"She was working in my office this morning," Mother continued.
"When is she not?" Francis said quietly.
Mother nodded. "I gave her an onerous task, putting cyclostyled newsletters to the congregation in envelopes and stamping them, including copies to all the other temples in the country, and the Mother House."
"Cruel and unusual. I congratulate you."
Mother dipped a small bow. "Usually she performs tasks of that sort to the accompaniment of complaints and sighs. Sometimes she asks me why it’s so wrong to be unhappy, and I’m often hard pressed to answer her."
"It’s against the will of the Lady, of course," Francis said, showing his surprise.
"But is it?" Mother persisted. "You know that Persephone was forced to come here, given to us as an offering from her family. They practically gift-wrapped her and stuck a bow on her head."
Francis chuckled at that mental image. "So, no sighs or complaints today?" he said.
"None at all. I do not understand it. She was positively cheerful. She even hummed a tune under her breath."
"What was it?"
"I don’t know," Mother snapped. "Whatever it was, it was a happy tune. So what has made our Persephone so happy, suddenly? Because she was miserable as usual yesterday. Happy today, why?"
"I saw her last night, when she handed over the vigil to me."
"How was she?"
"A little belligerent as usual, though she had not been weeping this time." He stopped and thought. "I had the impression, no more than that, that there was someone else in the apse, behind the statue of our Lady. Just shadows, nothing more. And Brother Tobias told me this morning that someone came into the temple very late last night. A boy, he thought. But Brother Tobias often sees things that are not there, so one puts as much veracity into his statements as one wishes."
Mother sighed. "Too many people see things that are not there, in this temple," she said. "It’s becoming an epidemic. No, I don’t think we can rely on Brother Tobias’ statement. Not yet anyway."
They had reached the narthex.
"I have to leave you for a while," Mother said. "I’m going to the temple of Nematoma. The Reverend Mother there has something she wishes to speak to me about, in person." As Francis opened the smaller door within the great doors of the temple, he saw a car waiting on the gravel drive.
"Look after things for me," Mother said. "And Francis, don’t worry about Persephone. If we leave her alone, she will come round, the Lady willing." As she walked away, Francis repeated Mother’s gesture, hiding his hands in his sleeves.
"If we leave her alone, she’ll take enough rope to hang herself," he said quietly. A novice priest who was passing, looked at him, startled, and scuttled away. Francis smiled grimly.

      The end of the first day with Tom. Persephone had gone to bed, washed, changed, and comfortable, thinking about the day. The refectory had indeed been all but deserted, and no one noticed that an extra lay brother had joined her for dinner. Most people kept away from her anyway, thanks to her reputation for being prickly. The trickiest moment had come when she had to hand over the vigil to Brother Francis. There was something strange in the way he looked at her, considering, searching her face for clues. Of course, there were no tears, not a sign of misery anywhere. She even smiled at him. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He was not an imbecile, he would guess there was something going on. Ah well, she couldn’t change time back again and pretend to be unhappy. And Tom had been waiting for her in the cloisters on the other side of the door in the apse. Usually Francis would say something about communing with the Lady and that he would mention Persephone, but this evening he said nothing. Just looked at her with an odd expression that was halfway between bewilderment and pain.
      Tom’s nest had changed into a bed on the floor, made up of blankets and pillows. Nothing to climb into and hide. That had to be progress. For now, he was lying on top of her bed, next to her, holding her hand, and she felt so happy.
"That was a good day," he said, and yawned. "Archie didn’t mind me helping him. He managed to "let" me do most of the digging. We’re planting geraniums. Lots of different colours. The old ‘uns will love them."
Persephone rubbed her thumb over his hand. He had managed to get the dirt out from under his fingernails, but there were callouses on the palm.
"You need gloves," she said. "And I’ll have a look in the infirmary for some cream for your hands." She went on stroking the palm of his hand. He gently disentangled his hand, and for a moment Persephone thought she had overstepped his boundaries. But he slid his other arm under her and pulled her closer. She rested her head on his chest.
"I like it that you’re smaller than me," he said quietly. "Is that dreadful of me?"
"Of course not," she said, smiling. "After living with giants all your life, I’m not surprised."
"I never met anyone smaller than me." He lay quiet, and Persephone closed her eyes. His chest made a comfortable pillow, and she was aware of the faint scent of ginger, as though they were baking gingerbread in the kitchens; warm, with a hint of vanilla. For a moment, she hoped that Tom would fall asleep where he was; she longed to feel the warmth of him, listen to him breathing. Just one night, she begged Ancamna, take away just a little of the crushing loneliness she had struggled with, she wouldn’t ask for anything more. Her wish was "father to the thought", but reality was not as kind. Tom yawned, and slipped out from under her.
"I’ve got a long day tomorrow," he said, "Archie and I want to get those geraniums planted." He dropped a quick kiss on her forehead, barely touching her skin. Then he dropped onto the floor and crawled into his makeshift bed. Persephone waited until he was quiet, then she turned off the light. She picked up the pillow he had laid his head on, and hugged it tightly. It held the scent of ginger, and that, more than the chamomile tea, helped her to finally fall asleep.

      The door of the cottage was unlocked, which meant that Tom had got back first. Persephone leaned her aching head against the cool wooden door. It had been a particularly trying day, navigating Sister Mathilda’s expectations. The temple Infirmarer had the tendency to believe that everyone was well versed as she, in the uses and misuses of tinctures, potions and infusions that she made herself, to her own specifications, but which were a mystery to everyone else. While Sister Mathilda raided the garden for more botanicals for her medicines, she had given care of the elderly priests to Persephone. After an endless day of aching old bones, fretful complaints and all the ills that age was heir to, all she wanted to do was curl up on her bed and sleep.
      Tom was sitting on the floor reading a book. An old, battered exercise book that as far as Persephone knew, had been hidden under the bed.
"Where did you find that?" she said, a little more sharply than she intended.
Tom looked up, smiling. "Why didn’t you tell me?" he said. "I thought I was the only one who thought the triad were not infallible. I think you’re right, the world is wrong, and that Nemetoma and Ancamna want something else for us. I love what you wrote here, To be yourself in a world which is doing its best every day to make you like everybody else means you have to fight the hardest battle which anyone can fight and never stop fighting."
Persephone knelt down on the floor beside him. "I didn’t tell you because it’s where I write my private thoughts," she said. "I never meant anyone to read them." She gently slid the book out of Tom’s hands.
"I won’t tell anyone. Who am I going to talk to, Archie? All he’d want to know is where can you plant it, and how tall will it grow. So can I read the rest of it, please?" He put on a winsome smile and Persephone laughed.
"If you bat your eyelashes at me…." she said.
"What, go on, what will you do?"
"You can’t read the rest of it because I wrote about you, if you must know," she said, clutching the book to her chest. He grabbed at the book, holding on tightly to it with both hands, she fell onto her back, with Tom on top of her. He lay on top of her, laughing so much he couldn’t get up.
"What did you write about me?" he gasped, trying to wrench the book from her hands. He tried tickling her, but she wriggled so much he couldn’t get hold of the book. She couldn’t hold onto it so tightly when he changed tactics and kissed her lips, her face, her neck, over and over until she was dizzy. He picked the book up when she dropped it. She turned away, eyes welling up. She had poured her heart out into the book, writing about Tom, and if he read it, she might just lose his trust and friendship. Moments passed in silence. When she managed to look at him again, he was watching her.
"It’s all right," he said gently, "I don’t need to read it." He slid the book back under the bed, as far as he could reach.
      Tom got up off the floor and holding onto Persephone’s hand, he helped her up. He wrapped his arms around her and she nestled into his neck. Persephone was not too sure about what had happened, but something was different. Some paradigm had altered, one possible path changed direction, and the world altered it’s spin, just a fraction. Tom held her face in his hands and kissed her forehead.
"Let’s go get dinner," he said. As the crossed the cloister, holding hands, Persephone’s face ached with smiling, but she couldn’t stop, not while her heart felt so deliriously happy.

      Brother Francis hesitated at the open door of Reverend Mother’s office.
"Come in Francis," she called.
He walked in. "No Persephone?" he said.
"No, I know," Mother said, smiling. "A red letter day perhaps. I’ve moved her to work in the infirmary for a week or so."
Francis sat down opposite Mother. "Brother Peter told me you wanted to see me?"
Mother took out a newspaper. "Nematoma’s RM, Millicent, gave me this," she said. It was folded to one small story in the corner of page 12. Francis read it.
"A missing omega," he said, and put the paper back on the desk. "I can’t see how it affects us."
"Can’t you?" Mother said. "Take another look at the photograph. It’s a bit grainy and not dark enough to tell, but I’m sure that’s Lay Brother Archie’s new assistant. I’ve seen him in the refectory as well, with Sister Persephone."
"I’ve noticed him too," Francis said. "He’s been with us, what, near to two weeks? I assumed he had transferred from another temple. The one near the city often sends them to us."
Mother was studying the photograph in the newspaper. "I don’t know, I can’t really tell from this. I’ll ask the newspaper office to send us a better picture." She rested her elbows on the desk.
"Now, Millicent sent me that paper because it seems that this missing boy’s family are alphas, but he’s an omega."
"An awkward combination," Francis said.
"Quite. They’ve been in touch with Millicent, and Nematoma’s other RMs to look out for him, But it seems that he’s avoided the omega temples."
"Smart of him. They’re likely to be the first places his family will look."
"They think he might have sought refuge in a beta temple, simply by a process of elimination as he’d scarcely go to a temple of Loucetios."
"And if it is him, how has he come to know Sister Persephone?" Francis said.
"Again, by a process of elimination," Mother said, with a smile. "Two disaffected, unhappy young people are bound to find each other. And Persephone always did like to help the lame ducks. Look at what she did when she had only just entered the temple."
"That elderly woman she smuggled into the infirmary, and fed and clothed her."
"And she turned out to be an alpha with dementia, poor soul. Her family were frantic, looking for her. And all the time she was safely tucked up in one of our infirmary beds, being nursed by Sister Persephone."
"And the stray cat with kittens," Francis said. "Where did they wind up? With Brother Ambrose, I seem to remember."
"He, and Persephone, made themselves an absolute nuisance, collaring every visitor and asking if they wanted a kitten."
Francis chuckled. "She certainly keeps us lively," he said.
"So you see why I can’t be sure that she hasn’t adopted this runaway boy."
"How old is he?" Francis said, picking up the newspaper again.
"It says he’s 23, but with omegas you never know. He could be 53 and still look like a youngster."
"What is his name? Ah, Frederick Thomas Langdon. I’ve heard of the Langdons. Their local Loucetios temple annually blesses them for their generous contributions." Francis sat for a moment in thought. "If she has adopted this Frederick Thomas Langdon, and he is the strange young lay brother we seem to have acquired, where has she hidden him?"
"Could she have, what is the word, stashed him in her cottage?"
Francis laughed. "She lives in one of the elder cottages, they’re scarcely big enough to hide a cat. Though of course she did, and the kittens as well."
"Couldn’t you ask her tonight, when she hands over the vigil to you?" Francis sighed. "Alas, she has been released from vigil duty by the Master of Novices. Brother Albertus decided, in his wisdom, that keeping vigil was doing nothing to resign her to a life of service to the Lady. Indeed, he believes it was counter productive."
"He may be right," Mother said. "At this point I believe that nothing will help her to surrender to life in the temple."
"So what do we do with her? Her family will not take her back."
"That, my dear Brother, is something we can only take to the Lady and trust to her guidance."
      Francis stood up to go. Reverend Mother had said nothing that was not already in his heart. Refusing to face the fact that one day, possibly sooner than expected, Persephone would leave the temple, was not helping his own peace of mind. He had hardly dared to confront his own feelings in case, looking ahead, he could not bear the emptiness her absence would leave behind. He had begun to realise a little of the suffering that Persephone must have felt when she was forced to enter the temple. As he walked through the precinct of the temple, he no longer felt the certainty of the complete abnegation of a normal life that he had given as his offering to the Lady. Now it felt hollow, a sacrifice given to something that cared little for it and had not asked for it. There were dark storm clouds gathering above the temple, and in his present mood, Francis felt they were a warning. But to whom, and for what, he did not know.

      The storm broke as Persephone and Tom were leaving the refectory after dinner, which had been emptier than ever, many of the novices choosing to stay in their quarters. Most of them had come from city homes, and storms were not as violent and frightening there as they were in the relative isolation of the temples of the triad. Persephone and Tom held hands as they raced across the cloister in the rain. Once again, Tom shouldered the wooden door open, and they ran to Persephone’s cottage. She fumbled with the lock on her door while Tom ran on the spot. Finally she succeeded and they raced into the cottage, both soaked through and laughing. Persephone threw a towel to Tom and he ran into the bathroom to change and dry off.
      Persephone decided to change into her nightgown and save her cleanest tunic and trousers for the next day. She climbed into bed as the warmest and most comfortable place in the room. She was worried. Tom had been very quiet at dinner, and he had eaten very little, merely picking at his food. Perhaps he was just tired after a long day in the garden. Perhaps their tussle on the bedroom floor had confused him. But he was in the bathroom for quite a long time, and when he came back into the room he was wearing nothing but the towel around his waist. Persephone tried not to look at him. He was beautiful, heartbreakingly perfect. He held a pair of trousers in his hands, staring at them, as though he had forgotten what they were and how to put them on. His face was flushed.
"What’s wrong?" Persephone said. "You must be freezing. Put those on and get in with me, you’ll soon be warm."
"I don’t know," he said slowly. "I feel strange, I feel very odd. It’s too hot in here." He was shivering. Persephone pulled the bedclothes back.
"Get in," she said. He obeyed, still wearing the towel. Persephone touched his chest lightly, he was burning up.
"Don’t touch me," he said through gritted teeth. "Is there somewhere else you can stay tonight?"
"No, nowhere, and I’m not going out in the rain," she said, laughing. "What is wrong? You’re not sick are you? Do you want to go to the infirmary?" "No," he wailed. His eyes were enormous and as black as ink. Persephone could see herself reflected in them, and she realised that his pupils had dilated.
The storm had worsened, rain lashed against the roof and thunder crashed overhead. As lightening flashed, the light in the cottage went out then sparked back on again. The shock scared her, she grabbed hold of Tom and clung to him.
"Sorry," she laughed, shakily, "I never liked storms." His skin was warm and surprisingly soft to touch. Soft and warm over muscles.
Tom didn’t seem to hear her. He nuzzled at her neck.
"I thought Betas don’t have scents," he said, muffled against her neck.
"We do," she said with difficulty, "just very faint."
"I can smell you," he said, kissing her neck. "You smell nice." She could smell him. The scent of ginger was intense, sweetened by a base note of vanilla.
"Tom dear," she said gently, "are you on heat?" She pronounced the unfamiliar phrase warily. Nothing at beta school had prepared her for this. Omegas only mated with alphas, everyone knew that. So what was she doing with a near-naked omega in her bed? Just throwing a thousand years of tradition out into the storm. Tom pulled the towel off. Make that a completely naked omega in her bed. She drew her nightgown off and threw it onto the floor. A naked omega and a naked beta were lying in the same bed. There had to be a punchline to the joke, but she couldn’t think of one, she felt too giddy and light headed.
"Ancamna forgive me," she muttered and she kissed Tom, the kiss she had been longing for since he wandered into the temple, lost and afraid. He moved over her and she wrapped her arms around him. As the lightening crackled over the cloisters, the light blew out again, and stayed out.

      The storm was over. The light had come back on, but it was eclipsed by the sun shining in through the window. Persephone awoke lying on her front with her head cradled on Tom’s chest. He was stroking her hair, tucking strands behind her ear.
"Hello you," he said quietly.
"Good morning," she said. She looked at him for a moment, as though memorising his face, in case he didn’t react well to the one thing she knew she had to tell him before she lost her nerve.
"Tom," she said, "I love you."
He smiled and kissed her. "I know. I love you too. Tell me when you fell in love with me."
"Well, it was when you said we should run away and get jobs on a ship. You were so funny and sweet, and I just adored you."
He laughed. "When I was a little boy," he said, "I used to dream of running away to sea. I fell in love with you when you took me to the infirmary and rubbed cream into the callouses on my hands. You didn’t know but the Infirmarian was watching you. I liked you holding my hands. I didn’t want you to let go."
Persephone turned onto her back and tucked in under his arm. "So what do we do now?" she said.
"I have no idea. I never fell in love before."
"Me neither," Persephone said. "I wondered if I ever would."
"They only ever told me that I’d mate with an alpha, like it was the end of the world if I didn’t. No one said anything about love. No one ever said I could fall in love with a beta and mate with her instead. It’s like there was no option; alpha or nothing."
She sat up and leaned on one elbow. "Breakfast?" she said. Tom slid his arms around her.
"I’m starving," he said. "Must have been the storm."
"Definitely the storm. Storms always make me hungry," she said laughing as he kissed her face over and over.

      Reverend Mother and Brother Francis were walking their daily "beat", as an irreverent novice once remarked. Typically, they began outside Mother’s office, walked into and through the temple, through the cloisters, paying a short visit to the elders in the cottages, and returning, through the precinct to the office of the RM. Both treasured these daily walks as a time to exchange news and opinions, of the community, and about the world outside. No one ever interrupted them. This morning though, Mother had raised several topics of quite interesting conversation, but Francis had not replied. He seemed preoccupied. His body was present, walking by the side of Reverend Mother, but his mind was elsewhere.
"Where are you today, Francis?" Mother said.
It took a few seconds before Francis realised he was being addressed. He sighed. "Reverend Mother," he began.
"Francis, don’t you think that after all these many years, you could bring yourself to address me by my name?"
He stared at her.
"You do know my name?" she said. "Eloise? We entered the temple in the same year?"
"I’m sorry, Eloise," Francis said, "was I being inattentive?"
"Francis, we both know you have not been attentive for some time now. What is the matter? Now we know it cannot be Sister Persephone’s fault as she’s been behaving herself beautifully for two months now."
Francis smiled. "I can’t remember the last time we puzzled over her latest episode."
"I do believe we’ll make a priest of her yet," Mother, no, Eloise said. "She worked very well in the infirmary. So well that Sister Mathilda wants to keep her permanently."
"I understand that Brother Matthew wants to keep her in the scriptorium as well."
Eloise chuckled. "Who would have believed it of her. Just over two months ago she was turning us all grey before our time, and now she works well, actually keeps company with the other novices, and is happy. It’s enough to make anyone believe in miracles."
"And yet…" Francis said.
"Go on," Eloise said. By now they had entered the temple. Eloise sat on the first pew in the nave and Francis had to follow her.
"Have you noticed that boy still follows her?" he said. "Oh not during the day, he’s busy in the gardens doing great work with Brother Archie. But at mealtimes he is beside her in the refectory, sits with her in the temple during the liturgy offices. Are we sure that he’s not that runaway omega boy?"
Mother Eloise thought for a minute, wondering how much to say, then she made up her mind. "I had a photograph of him sent to me from the newspaper office. You remember that grainy picture Millicent gave me? I have kept it in my desk because, yes Francis, I do believe that he is that missing omega."
Francis stared at her, incredulously. "And you haven’t reported him?"
"My dear, for whatever reason, that young man felt he was unsafe living with his own family. And you know how the government has been stressing the safety of omegas lately. Millicent told me that if we sent him to her, she would do all she could to protect him. But as one omega among many, it would be easier for his family to get at him. Here he’s the only omega, hiding in plain sight, and we can watch him and make sure that he is safe. And he is. Even if it is Persephone who is looking after him!" She ended with a laugh. "Poor lad. If he’s not careful, she’ll kill him with kindness."
Francis shifted. "Kindness isn’t in it," he snapped.
"Francis, what do you mean?"
He turned to face her. "Haven’t you noticed the way she looks at him, the way he looks at her? Eloise, you haven’t been immured in the temple for so long that you can’t recognise love and passion when you see them right in front of you."
Eloise stared at the statue of Ancamna that dominated the temple. She remembered her words of two months ago: two disaffected, unhappy young people.. bound to find each other.
"Do you mean that?" she said. "Of course you do, that was foolish of me. Do you mean those two silly children have fallen in love with each other? Well how wonderful. And how foolish." She burst into laughter, causing the few people in the temple to stop what they were doing and stare at her. "Well," she added, "celibacy was never a requirement for service to the Lady. I vaguely remember when I first entered the temple, the Reverend Mother of that time and the Mistress of Novices were very much in love with each other and their relationship spanned decades. You must remember them, Mother Alberta and Sister Caroline? I was 12 before I realised that they shared a bedroom. I’ve sometimes wondered how the community in the temple of Loucetios cope. They do demand celibacy you know."
"Did you ever…..?" Francis said.
Eloise smiled, and Francis was surprised to see tears in her eyes. "Oh yes," she said with a sigh. "Brother Tobius. He came into the temple at the same time as I did, only I was 6 and he was 10. I adored him."
Francis was astonished at the sound of Eloise’s voice; loss and love, and regret all bound up.
"We were together for just five years, from when I was 19 and he was 23," she said. "Just the age of this omega boy, and Persephone is 18. Is love sweeter at that age, I wonder? We had an epidemic of that dreadful flu. Mother Alberta died and Sister Caroline was very ill for some time. She never really recovered. And Tobius, my darling Toby, he died too. Some stupid priest, no doubt meaning well, said I should be glad he was with Mother Alberta, and gave me some high-sounding homily about him resting with the Lady now. And I thought I would never smile or sing again. All I wanted was to die with him. But the Lady would not grant that, and I had to learn to live without him."
She turned and looked at Francis, taking hold of his hand. "I all but broke into pieces, the day my Toby died. I doubt I’ve recovered yet. I look ahead and hope that I’ll see him again, on the day it pleases the Lady to take me to her. Love and passion? Oh yes, I’ve known them both Francis. And I have wondered, why have you not?"
      Francis turned away from her. Eloise patted his hand.
"My dear," she said, "I am not blind. Just as you have noticed the way they look at each other, I have noticed you, whenever Sister Persephone is in sight. We have been friends, you and I, since we entered the temple far too young. So forgive me for speaking plainly. At any time in the years after your reached your majority, you could have left and made your own life. Found your mate, had children. If anyone was destined for a life of happy domesticity, it was you."
"Why not?" Francis said, bitterly, "because I was arrogant, and a coward. I believed that by giving up everything that was good in life the Lady would look on me with favour."
"Oh Francis," Eloise said quietly. "My poor, dear idiot."
Francis laughed, a cold, thin laugh without humour. "I actually allowed myself to believe that Persephone would be mine by right because of what I had given to the Lady. And then this runaway, this omega, walks into her life and she is his, willingly and happily. Why could you not have just reported him to the authorities and let them deal with him, hm Eloise?"
      The temple was beginning to fill up as the community all arrived, those who could, for the early evening liturgy. And there they were, Sister Persephone and her omega mate, Tom, sitting in a pew with three other novices. If anyone was carefully looking, they would have seen Tom take Persephone’s hand and kiss it.
"I won’t tell the authorities," Eloise said quietly, "but I think it might be time to have a quiet word with Sister Mathilda, and then possibly both of their families."
Francis turned to her, puzzled.
"We may have to release her from the temple and conduct a small bonding ceremony," Eloise said. "As to where they will live, I have an idea. Though I’m not sure you will like it."

      Sister Mathilda went over to the sink to wash her hands.
"You can get up now," she said.
Persephone got off the examination bed and put her underthings and trousers back on.
"Well, so it’s congratulations," Mathilda said, smiling broadly. "Does he know?" She jerked her head in the direction of the door. "Well you had better tell him soon."
"Will you let Reverend Mother know?" Persephone said.
"Funking it, eh?" Mathilda laughed. "All right, I’ll tell her. Though I think you’ll find she already knows."
"And she’s not angry?" Persephone said as she put on her shoes.
"Angry? Who, her? No. If things had gone the way they should, she would have been in your shoes. You’re not the only priest who fell in love with another, or had a baby. It is allowed you know."
      Tom was waiting outside the infirmary, pacing up and down.
"Hey sunshine," Mathilda said, "if you’re like this when I was only examining her, wait another…." she counted under her breath, "seven months and you’ll be really be nervous."
Tom held Persephone’s hand and asked a thousand questions. She laughed and steered him to a bench set in an alcove in the wall. Now she held his hands.
"Sweetheart," she said, "now don’t faint or, or.."
"...start crying, I know," he said with a smile.
"I’m going to have a baby," she said, "We’re going to have a baby."
He didn’t faint or cry. Instead he ran up and down the corridor, grabbing anyone walking by and telling them the wonderful news. Persephone sat and laughed and laughed. She stopped laughing when Brother Francis approached her.
"Reverend Mother wishes to see you both," he said quietly. He waited until Tom had stopped spinning around on the spot.
"Such a child," he said quietly. Persephone heard him and glared at him. "A gentle spirit," she said, equally quietly, "and childlike, not childish. There’s a difference, and that’s why I love him."
"Did you hear?" Tom said excitedly. "We’re having a baby."
Francis smiled, sardonically. Tom didn’t notice, he was too busy hugging Persephone.
"Reverend Mother wants to see us, my love," she said.
"Good idea, we can tell her too," Tom laughed. "I want everyone in the world to know."
"That could happen sooner than you think, boy," Francis said, so quietly that Persephone barely heard him.

      Persephone was dog-tired after their meeting with Reverend Mother. She managed to walk all the way to their cottage, with Tom’s help, but she couldn’t face going to the refectory for dinner. So Tom offered to go and fetch something for her. He waited until she was curled up in bed before he raced off. That was Tom, she thought, smiling, always doing things at a run. And with so much enthusiasm, for everything, she mused, and sank down under the blankets. Be careful of what you pray for, she thought. The Lady might just answer you. Reverend Mother had known about the baby, and was not at all angry about it. Persephone thought that she had never known Mother to be so, well, motherly. Could she do it? Live in the temple grounds with Tom and the baby? She thought back to the meeting with Mother.
      Mother’s office was the same room as the one that Persephone had worked in. Countless days of unending tedium and frustration, until Tom arrived and turned everything in her life upside down. The flowers in the vase on the desk were the same, the sunlight shining through the window was the same, the smell of furniture polish, everything. The difference was she was holding Tom’s hand.
      Mother was all smiles. "So," she said, "Sister Mathilde has told me. Congratulations, both of you. Of course you will have to be bonded now."
Tom and Persephone looked at each other. Did that mean their families had to be involved? Suddenly, Persephone felt cold and uncountably afraid. Tom seemed to know. He put his arm around her.
"Don’t worry," he said, "I won’t let anyone upset you." He had become very protective. All her life she had been taught that omegas were timid, helpless creatures who needed to be looked after and protected, and now here she was, a beta, being protected by an omega. Perhaps it didn’t really matter what caste one had been born into. Perhaps alphas wanted to be looked after sometimes, perhaps betas were not always independent, needing no one’s help, and perhaps omegas could stand up for themselves and protect the people they loved. Was it heresy? She resolved to ask Tom what he thought, when he came back to their cottage.
      He should have been back long ago. Persephone realised that he had been away for an hour. Unless he was waiting for the kitchens to cook dinner from scratch, again, he really should have been back. She had been so lost in thought that she hadn’t realised how dark it was, and that the stars were out. She got out of bed and dressed again. Perhaps he couldn’t find his way in the dark, and it might help if she met him. She walked across the precinct, through the gate, and across the cloister to the door into the temple. The current vigilant, Sister Clotilde, was watching over the statue of the Lady. She was veering into old age, but not so far that she had to retire to the elder cottages. When she saw Persephone she smiled, and patted the seat beside her.
"I heard your wonderful news," she said, still smiling. "A baby, we haven’t had a baby in the temple for so long. Everyone’s excited about it."
"Thank you," Persephone said. "Have you seen Tom? He went to get dinner and he hasn’t come back yet."
Clotilde frowned. "No dear, I haven’t seen him all evening. The last time I saw him was when he was telling everyone who would listen that he, he mind you, he was going to have a baby. Oh he did make me laugh." She looked at Persephone. "Are you worried dear?"
Persephone laughed. "Just a little. I’ve got this awful feeling that something has happened. I can’t explain it."
"Try dear," Clotilde said. "Ask the Lady to find him."
Persephone closed her eyes, shut out the sounds that surrounded her, and looked through the eyes of Ancamna. She thought about Tom, trying to see where he was. Or was not. Usually this never worked, but this evening, it seemed easier. Everything she saw was a jumble at first, every soul in the temple, all the colours, shapes, and sounds. Through the Lady’s eyes, every image and conversation was identified and discarded while she searched. After a moment she opened her eyes, feeling strangely calm.
"He’s not here," she said. "He’s not anywhere in the temple, or near it. He’s gone."
Clotilde stood up. "Come on, let’s go find Mother."

      Mother steepled her fingers. She had heard Persephone’s litany and Clotilde’s additions. The temple was without a vigilant at the moment, but Mother felt that was the least of the problems in front of her. A missing omega. He had been left in her care; not by his own family, but by the Lady and her Divine Sister. By far the greater obligation set upon her. Clotilde was agitated, which became her age. Perhaps she would be better off going to her room. Though she held Persephone’s hand, it was obvious that the younger Sister did not need the comfort. For Clotilde then. Like everyone else in the temple, she had become fond of Tom. In such a short time he had become a part of them, and they had lost him. Clotilde left the office and headed for the refectory, with a tale to tell.
      Brother Francis entered Mother’s office, in obedience to her summons. If he was surprised, or perhaps dismayed, to see Persephone, he hid it well, but not well enough. Now Mother was sure that he had engineered the young omega’s disappearance.
"Where is he?" she said, wearily. "What have you done with Tom?"
Francis looked uneasily at Persephone, but she merely smiled, a thin, tired smile. That was what hurt most of all, that she was not surprised or desperately wounded. As though what he had done mattered nothing to her.
"You sent him to his family," she said flatly. Francis nodded and Mother sighed. She got up and went into the little booth where she did her telephoning. She preferred the privacy it gave her callers, and herself. Francis and Persephone sat in silence for a moment.
"Why did you send him away?" Persephone said.
Francis shrugged.
"Well that’s no answer," Persephone said. "I don’t understand, he wasn’t doing any harm and everyone likes him."
"You especially," Francis said.
"Of course me especially. I love him." she said simply.
"It wasn’t supposed to be like that," Francis said. His voice sounded strange, as though he was struggling to hold back tears. Persephone was a little afraid. Brother Francis had always been the stalwart of the temple. Rumour had it that he would take over from Mother, when the time came. No one had ever seen him break his legendary tranquillity.
"How was it supposed to be?" she said. "What could have been so bad that it made you, I won’t say betray, that’s too strong a word. Did you think Tom was better off with his family? If he was he would never have left them. He loves living here. He loves me. And we’re having a baby." Francis groaned. He had dreaded this moment, when he would have to explain to Persephone why he had betrayed her. And betray was not too strong a word, he knew that was what he had done.
      Mother came back into the room and sized up the situation in a moment.
"Millicent will meet us there," she said. "She will also contact the Loucetios RF as well. With luck and the triad with us, we won’t need to call the police." She turned and looked at Francis. "The temple is without a vigilant," she said. "I suggest you go to the Lady now, and consider what you have done. On your knees."
Francis left, his head down, not daring to look at anyone as he went.
"I am sorry dear," Mother said. "I had no idea that he would go so far."
"It really is all right," Persephone said, smiling beatifically. "Tom is alive and well. His family will not harm him. We will find him, the Lady would not have brought him here if all would not be well."
Mother contemplated leaving Persephone behind. The girl’s calm acceptance of what had happened was disturbing. Where was her anger at Francis at least? Persephone seemed to be looking inwardly, as if listening to a voice that spoke only to her. Of course, there were stories about soulmated couples who could hear each other’s thoughts. Was that happening now? Was Persephone listening to Tom? When she smiled, Mother was no longer in any doubt. With a curiously eerie light shining in the young novice’s eyes, she followed Mother almost blindly, out of the temple and into the chauffeured car that waited outside, in the pouring rain.

      The Langdon’s house was built on a massive scale. No lights shone in the windows. Persephone thought that the home she had grown up in could have fitted into this huge mansion several times over. What must it have been like for Tom to grow up here, as the only omega in an alpha family? She could only imagine, and hope that his life with her would be a million times better. He was in there; she could almost touch him, he was so close. I’m here, keep talking to me, I’ll find you.
      There were two other black cars outside the house, impressively large, complete with uniformed chauffeurs. Nematoma’s RM, Millicent, got out of her car and joined Eloise on the porch. The doors of the third car opened and a tall, slender man wearing a smartly tailored black suit, and with a neat black goatee beard, got out and followed the women.
"Millicent, Eloise," he said, nodding.
"Good evening Macdonald," Mother Eloise said.
"I feel we should quote something from Shakespeare," Millicent said, with a cheeky smile and a slight Scottish accent. She was a short, plump lady who wore a dark purple plush velvet robe. "You know my dears, in all my years, I never once saw the young omega laddie in my Lady’s temple. Did he not go to yours, Maccy?"
"He did not," Macdonald said. "But if he has sought sanctuary in the temple of Ancamna, then we must respect that." He looked at Persephone, who stood silent and still at her Reverend Mother’s side. "Is this the girl?" he said. Mother Eloise nodded. "A beta, having a baby with an omega," he said, with a grim smile. "Well, it isn’t usual, but it’s not unheard of. Will you belabour the door Eloise? They must know we’re here but haven’t bothered themselves to come to us."
Mother Eloise did indeed "belabour the door", wielding the vast iron doorknocker as though all the mansion’s inhabitants were profoundly deaf. The door opened a few inches and an ancient, wizened face peered out at them. Macdonald planted a hand, palm spread on the door, and pushed.
"For heaven’s sake," he said, "let us in you old menace. You know me by now I should think. It’s Barrington, their, for want of a better word, butler," he added to the ladies. "Bit of an old duffer, but loyal to the family. And he will let us in now, or I’ll know the reason," he said loudly.
The door was slowly pulled open and Eloise marched into the hall. With a courtly gesture from the Loucetios RF, Millicent and Persephone followed behind. The inside of the mansion was a gothic nightmare from out of a Victorian novel. Lined with dark wood, an array of shields and weapons hung in menacing display. Faded, moth-eaten furniture stood in a semi circle in front of an unlit, and unswept massive fireplace. Everything told a tale of a rich and influential family, bound by chains to the glories of the past, and struggling to hold on. Persephone could have wept for the sensitive and gentle boy that Tom must have been, growing up in this mausoleum.
      A lady walked slowly down the high flight of stairs in the hallway. She was tall, and every inch an alpha, from her black high-heeled shoes, to her carefully coiffured hairstyle. She was elegant, stylish, and yet there was a tightness around the eyes that told of barely reigned-in fear and stress. Persephone could see it, and knew the reason why. She turned around, searching, searching…
"Why Reverend Father," the elegant woman said smiling, though her smile never managed to reach her eyes. "How nice of you to visit us. What can we do for you, and your charming companions," she added, gesturing gracefully at the three women.
"Is your son here Elaine?" Macdonald said. "The young one, your omega."
"He left us some time ago," Mrs Langdon, Elaine said, sadly, but so overdone that Persephone knew she was mocking them all. "Why don’t we all go somewhere more comfortable and then we can talk about it."
Persephone watched them leave the hallway and move into a room on the other side of the stairs. Eloise looked back at her. "Anything?" she said softly.
"I think so," Persephone said, looking up at the stairs. "I think he’s up there."
"We’ll keep her talking, you go look for him," Eloise said, pulling Millicent back for a moment to tell her the plan.
      Persephone waited until the last second, when they had all gone. Being younger and smaller, Mrs Langdon had overlooked her. But she remembered that Tom had said he had two sisters and several brothers. And Tom was there, she could hear him. Very faintly, just the suggestion of a thought, a touch against her mind, but it was him, and he was alive. Swiftly, she ran up the stairs. At the top there was a bewildering array of doors. So many rooms. One of the doors opened and a tall, muscular man stepped into the landing. He didn’t ask who she was and why she was there.
"Freddy’s little mate," he said with a sneer. "Oh, we’ve heard all about you."
"His name is Tom," Persephone said quietly.
"Oh shut up, you pathetic little beta," he replied.
Another door opened, behind Persephone. Another tall alpha, a young woman this time.
"Sam, don’t be so jealous of little Freddy," she said, walking slowly up behind Persephone. "At least he got himself a mate, which is more than you can do." She placed her hand on Persephone’s back. "He has told us about you. Quick and easy, wasn’t that what he said? Typical beta."
Persephone smiled. At that moment, she felt Tom’s outrage and knew this woman, his sister, was trying to unsettle her. She gently dislodged the hand on her back and turned to the alpha woman.
"I am so sorry, are you having trouble finding a good mate too?" she said, in exactly the same tone of voice as Tom’s sister. She listened to a voice inside her head for a moment. "Tom asks that I be careful," she said. "He’s worried about our baby." She put a hand gently over her stomach.
"You’re pregnant," the woman snapped. Marianne, Tom told Persephone.
"Yes Marianne, you’re going to be an aunt," Persephone said.
      They all heard banging on the door at the furthest end of the landing. Persephone laughed.
"It’s all right Tom darling, I know where you are," she said. She took a step forward towards the door, but Samuel stood in her way. She looked at him, her head on one side.
"What do you think you’re going to achieve?" she said. "If you harm me, you harm this baby. And with the omega protection laws being as draconian as they are, I don’t think you want to land your family in that much trouble." She could "hear" Tom, becoming frantic. It’s all right my love, she sent back to him, your brother is not going to do something stupid. Sit tight, I’ll get you out of here. If he couldn’t understand the words, he could read her meaning.
Samuel looked at Marianne; she nodded and sighed, giving up. Samuel moved to one side and watched Persephone as she walked to the door where Tom was. She took hold of the door handle, it was locked.
"Will you open it?" she said.
Barrington, the "old menace" appeared, having climbed the stairs, with a great bunch of keys. He carefully, and painstakingly slowly, selected one, discarded it and repeated the process several times, until he found one he liked. That key worked. As soon as the door was opened, Tom rushed out and held Persephone tightly.
"Say what you said about her again Sam and I’ll thump you," he said. "I’ll thump anyone who tries to hurt my girl."
Marianne patted him on the shoulder. "Come on little brother," she said, "let’s go downstairs. This one brought friends with her."
Persephone and Tom followed Marianne down the stairs. Samuel stayed where he was, meditating on how his weak little omega brother could not only find a mate of his own, but breed her as well. The only conclusion he could come up with was that something had gone wrong somewhere.

      They entered the lounge to find that the three leaders of the triad temples were enjoying tea and cakes with Elaine Langdon.
"Ah, you found him," Mother Eloise said.
"Are you all right laddie?" Mother Millicent said, waving a cup of tea.
"I am now," Tom said, his arm around Persephone’s waist. His mother looked at him more carefully than usual; carefully and consideringly. He looked different, she decided. Confident, happier in himself. She had chosen badly with regards to finding him a mate. That alpha girl would not have suited him at all, even though bonding to her would have solved a lot of the Langdon family problems. His attention was on the beta girl he held in his arms. Protective; that was a good word to describe him. He was protecting that girl. Did someone say she was pregnant?
"Frederick," she said.
"I go by Tom now mother," he said.
She nodded. "Tom then. Is it true that this girl is your mate, and you’re having a child together?"
Tom grinned. "It is."
"So what is your plan? You can hardly expect to live in the temple, when you have a child to look after."
Reverend Mother tapped her teacup and everyone’s attention turned to her. "We will be having a small bonding ceremony of course," she said. "To which you are invited. Tom and Persephone will be officially bonded. And as for where they will live. Tom, Lay Brother Archie will be retiring soon. He has told me that you would be a good choice for his replacement."
"Seriously?" Tom said, delighted and incredulous at the same time. Eloise laughed.
"Of course. You have a real gift for gardening. Archie will live with his daughter, so he will be moving out of his cottage, and you and Persephone can have it. It’s a good size, Archie and his mate raised three children there."
Elaine looked pained. "My son the gardener, in a beta temple," she said. "How ever will I explain that to people?"
"Why explain?" Macdonald said. "We’re all free to live our lives as we wish, the triad notwithstanding. If Frederick, sorry, Tom, enjoys gardening and is good enough for the temple of Ancamna, then don’t fight it. You’ve got plenty of children to palm off on other alpha families."
Tom looked at his mother, anxiously. "You don’t really mind, do you mother?" he said.
"No," she said wearily. "If it’s what you really want. Just, just let me come and visit you sometimes, and the baby. My first grandchild." she added, sadly. She would have been proud to have a grandchild who carried alpha genes, but promised herself to make a good try at accepting one with beta genes. She looked again at Tom and his mate.
"Why?" she said. Tom smiled.
"She’s smaller than me," he said. "And she’s kind, and gentle, and doesn’t laugh at me or think I’m ridiculous."
"You could never be ridiculous," Persephone said, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Funny sometimes, and adorable. But never ridiculous." Tom smiled and kissed her on the forehead.
Macdonald laughed. "Ah, the ways of the triad are always unfathomable. Sometimes a beta needs to be cared for like an omega, and sometimes an omega needs to be more like an alpha."
"Aye," Millicent said. "I heard tell that it’s people who made us alphas, betas, and omegas. But it’s the Ladies and the Gentleman who decide who’s who and what’s what. If yon laddie wants to look after his wee girl, then good luck to him. Nematoma is big enough not to mind that he’s in Ancamna’s temple. They are sisters you know," she said to Macdonald, who laughed again.
"Yes Millie," he said, "I do know."
Mother Eloise stood up. "I think it’s time we all went home now," she said. "And that, Tom my boy, means you come home with Persephone and I." She looked at Elaine Langdon, who merely waved her hand, and walked off into the garden without looking back.
"Mother?" Tom said. The sadness in his voice was heart-breaking.
"Leave her be laddie," Mother Millicent said. "She needs a while to process it. She’ll come and visit you soon, no doubt.
"And if she doesn’t," Macdonald said, "I will put her in my car and bring her to the beta temple myself."

      When the car had cleared the drive outside the Langdon mansion, Persephone tapped Mother’s knee.
"What will happen to Brother Francis?" she said.
"He will find that the city temple is a better fit for his organisational talents," Eloise said. "They are in need of a Master of Novices."
"I still don’t understand why he tried to send Tom away," Persephone said.
"I do," Tom said. "He told me." He slipped an arm around Persephone’s shoulders, unwilling, even now, to let go of her. "And I don’t blame him. If I had been him, I would have done the same thing."
"Somehow, I don’t think you would," Eloise said.
The car sped on through the darkness and the rain. Persephone leaned her head against Tom’s shoulder and closed her eyes. They were going home.