fallen into disuse in the years of the occupation. Where once it had been filled with books and
students, with the rustle of pages and the whisper of librarians, now the shelves were bare and the
corners filled with cobwebs. I had not set foot in our library for many years, and the transformation
made me long for a time when I had no worries greater than my studies.
The change of location had been made as a simple safety measure, but the precaution had cost us
time. Leaving the ball, we had been given a message by a young soldier on a bicycle that told of the
meeting and requested our presence immediately. Once we arrived at the designated point, we were
given a second message, with a series of clues meant to bring us to the location undetected. It was
nearly two o’clock in the morning before we took our seats at high-backed chairs on both sides of a
narrow table in the Athenaeum.
Two small lamps lit at the center of the meeting table threw a dim, watery light upon all who sat
there. There was a sense of tension and energy in the room that gave me the distinct feeling that
something momentous had occurred. This perception was verified by the sobriety with which the
members of the council greeted us. It appeared to me that we had interrupted a funeral.
Dr. Raphael took the seat at the head of the table, gesturing for me to sit on a bench at his side. To
my great surprise, Gabriella Lévi-Franche sat at the far end of the table. It had been four years since I
had last seen her. In appearance Gabriella was much the same as I remembered her. She wore her
black hair in a short bob, her lips were painted bright red, and her expression was one of placid
watchfulness. Yet while most of us had fallen into an anemic state of exhaustion during the war,
Gabriella had the look of a pampered and well-protected woman. She was better clothed and better
fed than any of the angelologists in the Athenaeum.
Noticing that I had arrived with Dr. Raphael, Gabriella raised an eyebrow, a hint of accusation
forming in her green eyes. It was plain that our rivalry had not ended. Gabriella was as wary of me as
I was of her.
“Tell me everything,” Dr. Raphael said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I want to know exactly
how it happened.”
“The car was stopped for inspection at the Pont Saint-Michel,” replied an elderly angelologist, the
nun I had met some years before. The nun’s heavy black veil and the lack of light made her appear to
be an extension of the shadowy room. I could see nothing but her gnarled fingers folded upon the
glossy tabletop. “The guards forced them from the car and searched them. They were taken.”
“Taken?” Dr. Raphael said. “Where?”
“We have no way of knowing,” said Dr. Lévi-Franche, Gabriella’s uncle, his small round
spectacles perched upon his nose. “We’ve alerted our cells in every arrondissement in the city. No
one has seen them. I’m sorry to say they could be anywhere.”
Dr. Raphael said, “And what of their cargo?”
Gabriella stood and placed a heavy leather case on the table. “I kept the lyre with me,” she said,
resting her small fingers over the brown leather case. “I was traveling in the car behind Dr.
Seraphina. When we saw that our agents were being arrested, I ordered my driver to turn around and
drive back to Montparnasse. Fortunately, the case holding the discoveries was with me.”
Dr. Raphael’s shoulders sank in a clear sign of relief. “The case is safe,” he said. “But they are
holding our agents.”
“Of course,” the nun said. “They would never let such valuable prisoners go free without asking
for something equally valuable in return.”
“What are the terms?” Dr. Raphael asked.
“A trade—the treasures for the angelologists,” the nun replied.
“And what exactly did they mean by ‘treasures’?” Dr. Raphael asked quietly.
“They were not specific,” the nun said. “But somehow they know we have recovered something
precious from the Rhodopes. I believe we should comply with their wishes.”
“Impossible,” Dr. Lévi-Franche said. “It is simply out of the question.”
“It is my opinion that they do not know what the group actually found in the mountains, only that it
is prized,” Gabriella said, straightening in her chair.
“Perhaps the captured agents have told them what they extracted from the cavern,” suggested the
nun. “Under such duress it would be the natural outcome. ”
“I believe that our angelologists will honor our codes,” Dr. Raphael answered, a hint of anger in
his response. “If I know Seraphina at all, she won’t allow the others to speak.” He turned away, and I