Angelology(109)

perhaps she was drawn to the angel as I had been. Dr. Seraphina sat next to me and placed her palms

upon the forehead, resting her fingertips in the roots of its hair. I saw the change in Dr. Seraphina in

an instant. She closed her eyes, and a sensation of bliss appeared to wash over her. The tension in her

body eased into pure serenity.

Suddenly a hot, sticky substance seeped over the skin of my palms. Lifting my hands, I squinted,

trying to determine what had happened. A gummy golden film, transparent and glistening as honey,

coated my hands, and when I held them in the light of the angel’s skin, the substance refracted,

scattering a reflective dust over the cavern floor, as if my palms were coated in millions of

microscopic crystals.

Quickly, before the other angelologists saw what we had done, we wiped our hands against the

rocky surface of the cavern wall and slipped them back into our gloves. “Come, Celestine,” Dr.

Seraphina said. “Let’s finish with the body.”

I opened the medical kit and placed it at her side. Everything—scalpels, swabs, a packet of straight

blades, tiny glass vials with screw caps—had been strapped inside with elastic bands. I lifted the

creature’s arm over my lap, steadying it at the elbow and wrist as Dr. Seraphina scraped the grain of

a fingernail with the edge of the razor blade. Flakes broke from the nails, collecting at the bottom of a

glass vial, chunky and mineral as sea salt. Turning the blade at an angle, Dr. Seraphina made two

parallel incisions along the inner surface of the forearm and, careful not to rip the skin, pulled. A

layer of skin peeled away, leaving exposed musculature. Pressed between plates of glass, the swath

of skin glittered golden, brilliant and reflective in the weak light.

A wave of nausea passed over me at the sight of the exposed muscle. Afraid that I might be sick, I

excused myself, apologizing as I left. At some distance from the expedition party, I took a deep

breath, trying to calm myself. The air was bitter cold, filled with a thick moisture that hung in my

chest. The cavern opened before me, a series of endless, dark concavities that pulled me into them.

As the feeling of nausea dissipated, a sense of wonder took its place. What lay beyond, hidden in

darkness?

I took a small metal flashlight from my pocket and turned it toward the cavern’s depths. The light

grew fainter as I moved deeper into the cavern, as if eaten by the sticky, ravenous fog. I could see

only one meter, perhaps two, in front. Behind me, Dr. Seraphina’s strong, impatient voice directed the

others as they worked. Ahead, another voice—a soft, insistent, melodic voice—called me forth. I

paused, letting the darkness settle around me. The river was before me, separating me from the

Watchers. I had ventured too far from the others, putting myself at risk. Something awaited me in the

granite heart of the gorge. I needed only to discover it.

I stood at the edge of the river. The black water rushed by, sweeping into the darkness beyond. As I

stepped along its bank, a wobbling rowboat materialized, the twin of the boat Clematis had used to

navigate across the river. His image, or perhaps a shade of his voice, beckoned me to follow his path.

The edge of my trousers skimmed the water as I pushed the boat from the riverbank, the heavy wool

darkening as it brushed the surface. The boat had been fastened by rope to a pulley—evidence that

others, perhaps local historians, had ventured to the river—so that in tugging the rope I was able to

pull myself across without the assistance of oars. From my perch I saw a waterfall at the head of the

river, the thick mist rising before the endless hollow of cave, and I understood why legend designated

the river as Styx, the river of the dead: Pulling the boat across the water, I felt a deathly presence

descend, a dark emptiness so complete that it seemed to me that my life would be pressed away.

The waters brought me swiftly to the opposite shore. I left the boat, which was securely fixed to the

rope pulley, and climbed onto the bank. The cave’s mineral formations grew dramatic the farther I

moved from the water: There were spires of rock, clusters of minerals, crystal formations, and a

comb of caves opening on all sides. The indecipherable summons that had drawn me away from Dr.

Seraphina grew clear. I could hear the distinct sound of a voice, rising and falling, as if in time with

my footfall. If only I could reach the source of the music, I knew that I would see the creatures that

had lived in my imagination for so long.

Suddenly the rock floor dropped from underfoot, and before I could catch my balance, I fell

headlong onto the wet, smooth granite. Training my flashlight over the floor, I saw that I had tripped