So saying, she stepped to the altar, pressed her hands together, and then placed her palms flat on either side of the huge golden cross as if she would remove it-an unusual gesture, and unexpected, which drew Cait's attention. As she watched, the abbess withdrew her hands, and Cait saw that a door had opened in the base of the cross, revealing a hollow place. Reaching in, the abbess brought forth a footed cup.

Cait could not see it clearly from where she stood, but it seemed an ordinary drinking cup of wood, perhaps, or pottery. A glint of candlelight traced the rim as the abbess turned and presented the cup to Alethea, who, gazing steadily at the vessel, extended her neck slightly as the abbess brought the cup to her mouth to drink No sooner had the cup touched her lips, than the young woman gave out a loud cry. She raised her head and in the candlelight Cait saw her younger sister's face aglow with a strange light that seemed to dance over her features. Alethea cried out again and swooned, crumpling slowly on to her side.

It was all Cait could do to keep from rushing to her sister's aid. Instead, she bit the back of her hand and forced herself to stay behind her pillar. The cup was offered to the second novice, who likewise accepted a drink and promptly sank to the floor, a smile of ecstasy on her fresh young face. At the same time, Cait became aware of a sweetening of the air, as if a blossom-scented breeze had suddenly wafted into the cave.

The two young women lay before the altar for a long, silent moment. The sight of them sleeping so peacefully, their features suffused with such rapturous abandon, produced in Cait a longing she had not felt for a very long time. Oh, to know such peace, she thought.

After a while, the abbess returned the cup to its hidden nook, and then stood over the stricken novices; stretching her hands above them, she intoned:

'Now art thou the beloved of God.

Receive these gifts from the Gifting Giver:

The grace of form,

The grace of voice,

The grace of good fortune in all things,

The grace of kindness,

The grace of wisdom,

The grace of charity,

The grace of modesty and fair virtue,

The grace of whole-souled loveliness,

The grace of pleasing speech.'

So saying, Abbess Annora stooped and placed a hand on each young woman's head. Then, resuming her place once more, she said, 'As you abide in Christ, He abides in you. Therefore, through all things whatsoever shall befall you, remember:

Thou art the joy of all joyous things,

Thou art the light of the sun's glorious beaming,

Thou art the door of generous hospitality,

Thou art the shining star of guidance,

Thou art the amity of the deer on the hill,

Thou art the comeliness of the swan on the lake,

Thou art the strength of the steed on the plain,

Thou art the beauty of all lovely desires,

Henceforth and for ever more.

Amen.'

The abbess placed her hand on the novices' heads once more and said, 'Arise to life renewed.' With these words, both young women rose and stood smiling, looking slightly bewildered-as if they were indeed seeing the world for the first time. Abbess Annora blessed the newest members of her order, and the nuns re-formed their ranks and began withdrawing from the rock-cut sanctuary, singing as they went. Taking up their candles once more, the two young nuns fell into place behind them, leaving the abbess alone for a moment.

After the others had gone, Abbess Annora made reverence herself before the altar, and then knelt, head lifted high, gazing up into the darkness of the cavern, arms outstretched as if to receive a gift from her unseen lord. Cait watched, and something about the simple devotion touched her, and she wondered how long it had been since she had knelt like that and experienced the tranquillity of a free and open heart. Instantly, she was seized by ferocious yearning to be at peace within herself once more.

When Annora's prayers were finished, Cait waited until she could no longer hear her footsteps and then crept out from her hiding place behind the pillar. She thought to take a candle from the altar so that she might find her way back through the tunnelled passages.

Stepping quickly to the altar, she reached for one of the candles and paused to look at the handsome golden cross. What from a distance appeared a work of solid metal, closer observation revealed to be carved wood overlaid with sheets of beaten gold. At the base of the cross she saw the thin vertical crack which defined the door of the niche containing the communion cup.

Moving closer, she placed her hands on either side of the base in imitation of the abbess. Although she felt nothing save the cool smoothness of the metal, the pressure of her palms caused the thin covering of gold to bulge slightly beneath her right hand. She pressed the bulge with her palm; there was a click, the little door opened in the base of the cross, and there was the cup.

Thinking only to admire its simple, uncomplicated shape she reached in and brought it out. It was, as she had guessed, a simple footed bowl of pale, deeply grained wood, to which had been added a golden rim, and the foot gilded. In the gentle light of the candles, the wooden bowl shone with a fine lustre where the touch of many hands had polished it over the years.

She tilted the cup and looked inside. It was empty; more than that, it was dry – which she thought odd, for she had seen Alethea and the other novice drink from the cup. Even if they had drained it there would still remain some residue of the wine they had tasted. But there was none.

Raising the vessel, she put her nose into the bowl and sniffed. The faintly sweet aroma she had smelled at the offering of the cup during the ceremony still lingered there. The scent reminded her of beeswax and rose blossom, but lighter, and somehow fresher.

Then, more in imitation than expectation, she touched her lip to the golden rim and tilted the cup. A warm fluid met her tongue.

She gave a squeak of surprise and jumped back, almost dropping the cup. She steadied her hand and looked into the bowl which was now filled with a darkly gleaming crimson liquid.

Trembling, Cait closed her eyes and brought the cup to her lips. The dark liquid seemed to flow of itself over the rim of the cup and into her mouth. It bathed her tongue with a heavy sweetness like that of honeyed wine.

The taste so surprised her that she jerked the cup away. What was it the nuns had prayed, she wondered. The words came at once to her lips and she spoke them out:

'I believe, O God of all gods,

that Thou art the eternal Father of All Creation.

O Great King, aid Thou my soul,

with the aiding of Thy mercy,

with the aiding of Thy love,

with the aiding of Thy compassion;

Cover Thou my soul with Thy Swift Sure Hand.'

Raising the cup, she drank deep of the sweet, dark liquid. A quick warmth spread from her throat; it coursed through her body, flowing through her limbs to the tips of her fingers and toes. Her heart beat faster.

Cait looked again into the cup to see that it now contained more of the liquid than it had when she had first drunk. Her breath came faster and her temples throbbed. A strange distress crept over her; unseen needles pricked her throat and breast. What have I done? she thought.

Her breath came now in quick bursts and gasps. Fearing she might drop the sacred vessel, she carefully replaced the cup on the altar, and made to step away. Remembering the candle, she reached for it, and saw that her hand was marked by a delicate tracery of tiny lines that seemed to glow from beneath her skin-as if instead of blood her veins now pulsed with living light.