Angelology(103)

before, it had crossed my mind that in Clematis’s maddened retelling of his descent into the cave, he

had perhaps reverted to the comfort and ease of his native tongue. Clematis and Brother Deopus

surely would have communicated in their common language, especially when speaking of traditions

that would not translate easily into Latin. Perhaps Brother Deopus had written these words in

Cyrillic, his native script, riddling the manuscript with early Bulgarian words. If he had felt ashamed

of such inelegant literary execution as this—for Latin was the educated language of the time—he may

have recopied his transcription into proper Latin. Assuming that this had occurred, it was my hope

that the original version had been preserved. If Dr. Raphael had used this copy to assist in his

translation of Brother Deopus’s transcription, I could check the words to be sure that no errors had

occurred in rendering the Latin into modern French.

After coming to this conclusion, I recalled reading in one of Dr. Raphael’s numerous footnotes that

the manuscript had contained the stains of faded blood, presumably from Clematis’s injuries in the

cave. If this were indeed the case, Deopus’s original manuscript had not in fact been destroyed.

Given the opportunity to look upon it, I would doubtless comprehend the markings of Cyrillic

scattered through the text, a script I had learned from my grandmother, Baba Slavka, a bookish woman

who read Russian novels in their original and wrote volumes of poetry in her native Bulgarian. With

the original manuscript, I could extract the Cyrillic words and, with the assistance of my grandmother,

find the correct translation from early Bulgarian into Latin and then, of course, French. It was simply

a game of working backward from the modern to the ancient languages. The secret of the cave’s

location could be discerned, but only if I could study the original manuscript.

Once I’d explained the circuitous path my mind had taken in coming to this conclusion, Dr.

Seraphina—whose excitement over my speculations grew as I spoke—brought me straightaway to Dr.

Raphael and asked me to explain my theory again. Like Dr. Seraphina, Dr. Raphael approved the

logic of the idea, but he warned that he had taken great care in translating Brother Deopus’s words

and had found no Cyrillic in the manuscript. Nonetheless the Valkos brought me to the Athenaeum

vault, where the original manuscript was kept. They both slipped on white cotton gloves and gave me

a pair so I could do the same. Dr. Raphael lifted the manuscript from a shelf. After unwrapping it

from a thick white cotton cloth, Dr. Raphael placed it before me so that I might examine it. As he

stepped away, our eyes met, and I could not help but remember his early-morning encounter with

Gabriella, nor could I help but wonder of the secrets he had kept from everyone, including his wife.

Yet Dr. Raphael appeared as he always did: charming, erudite, and utterly inscrutable.

The manuscript before me soon absorbed my attention. The paper was so delicate that I feared

damaging it. Sweat had streaked the ink, and flecks of blackened blood marred a number of pages. As

I had expected, Brother Deopus’s Latin was imperfect—his spelling was not always accurate, and he

tended to muddle his declensions—but to my great disappointment Dr. Raphael was correct: No

Cyrillic letters were to be found in the transcription. Deopus had written the entire document in Latin.

My frustration might have been overwhelming—I had hoped to impress my teachers and secure my

place on any future expedition—had it not been for Dr. Raphael’s genius. Even as I began to give up

hope, his expression filled with exuberance. He explained that in the months that he had translated

Deopus’s section of the manuscript from Latin to French, he had come across a number of words that

were unfamiliar to him. He had speculated that Deopus, under extraordinary pressure to reproduce

Clematis’s words, which must have been spoken at a maddening pace, had Latinized a number of

words from his native tongue. It would be only natural, Dr. Raphael explained, as Cyrillic was a

rather recent development, having emerged with systemization merely a century before Deopus’s

birth. Dr. Raphael remembered the words well, and their place in the account. Taking a paper from

his pocket, he uncapped a fountain pen and began to write. He copied a series of Latinized Bulgarian

words from the manuscript—“gold,” “world,” “spirit”—forming a list of fifteen or so.

Dr. Raphael explained that it had been necessary to rely upon dictionaries to render the list of

words from Bulgarian into Latin, which he then translated into French. He had searched a number of