“‘The allegory of the hunt tells a tale within a tale,’ ” Sabine whispered. “‘Follow the creature’s
course from freedom to captivity. Disavow the hounds, feign modesty at the maid, reject the brutality
of slaughter, and seek music where the creature lives again. As a hand at the loom wove this mystery,
so a hand must unravel it. Ex angelis—the instrument reveals itself.’”
“‘ Ex angelis’?” Verlaine said, as if this were the only phrase of the clue to perplex him.
“It’s Latin,” Gabriella replied. “It means ‘from the angels.’ Clearly she is using the phrase to
describe the angelic instrument—it was wrought by the angels—but it is an odd way to do so.” She
paused to give Sabine Clementine a look of gratitude, acknowledging the legitimacy of her presence
for the first time before continuing, “Actually, the initials E A were often imprinted on the seals of
documents sent between angelologists in the Middle Ages, but the letters stood for Epistula
Angelorum, or letter of angels, another thing entirely. Mrs. Rockefeller could not have possibly
known that.”
“Is there anything else that might explain it?” Verlaine asked, leaning over Gabriella’s shoulder as
she extracted Abby Rockefeller’s card from the case. She turned it over, looking at the reverse side.
“There is a drawing of some sort,” Gabriella said, rotating the card in an attempt to get a better
view. There was a series of lightly sketched lines arranged by length, a number written next to each
one. “And that explains exactly nothing.”
“So we have a map without a key,” Verlaine said.
“Perhaps,” Gabriella said, and asked Sabine to repeat the clue.
Sabine repeated it word for word.
“The allegory of the hunt tells a tale within a tale. Follow the creature’s course from freedom
to captivity. Disavow the hounds, feign modesty at the maid, reject the brutality of slaughter, and
seek music where the creature lives again. As a hand at the loom wove this mystery, so a hand
must unravel it. Ex angelis— the instrument reveals itself.”
“Clearly she’s telling us to follow the order of the hunt, which begins in the first tapestry,”
Verlaine said, stepping through clusters of people to the first panel. “Here a hunting party makes its
way to the forest, where they discover a unicorn, chase it vigorously, and then kill it. The hounds—
which Mrs. Rockefeller advises us to ignore—are part of the hunting party, and the maid—whom we
should also bypass—must be one of the women hanging around watching. We’re supposed to ignore
all that and look where the creature lives again. That,” Verlaine said, leading Gabriella by the arm to
the last tapestry, “must be this one.”
They stood before the most famous of the tapestries, a lush green meadow filled with wildflowers.
The unicorn reclined at the center of a circular fence, tamed.
Gabriella said, “This is most definitely the tapestry in which we should ‘seek music where the
creature lives again.’ ”
“Although there doesn’t seem to be anything at all referring to music here,” Verlaine said.
“Ex angelis, ” Gabriella said to herself, as if turning the phrase over in her mind.
“Mrs. Rockefeller never used Latin phrases in her letters to Innocenta,” Verlaine said. “It’s
obvious that the use of it here has been meant to draw our attention.”
“Angels appear in nearly every piece of art in this place,” Gabriella said, clearly frustrated. “But
there isn’t a single one here.”
“You’re right,” Verlaine agreed, studying the unicorn. “These tapestries are an anomaly. Although
the hunt for the unicorn can be interpreted, as Mrs. Rockefeller mentioned, as an allegory—most
obviously a retelling of Christ’s Crucifixion and Resurrection—it’s one of the few pieces here
without overt Christian figures or images. No depictions of Christ, no images from the Old Testament,
and no angels.”
“Notice,” Gabriella said, pointing to the corners of the tapestry, “how the letters A and E are
woven everywhere throughout the scenes. They’re in each tapestry and always paired. They must
have been the initials of the patron who commissioned the tapestries.”
“Perhaps,” Verlaine said, looking more closely at the letters and noticing that they had been
stitched with golden thread. “But look: The letter E is turned backward in each instance. The letters
have been inverted.”
“And if we flip them,” Gabriella said, “we have E A.”