taper wax—but Mrs. Rockefeller didn’t seem to heed this. What did capture her fancy, I recall, was
the marble statue of the Archangel Michael, his foot crushing the head of a serpent. She placed a
gloved hand upon the statue’s foot and ran a finger delicately across the exact point of pressure that
would crack the demon’s skull. I noticed the double strand of creamy pearls nestled in her grizzled
neck, buttery orbs glinting in the dim light, objects of beauty that, despite my usual immunity to the
material world, caught my attention for a moment and held it. I could not help but note how unfair it
was that so many children of God could languish ill and broken in Europe, while those in America
adorned themselves with furs and pearls.”
Evangeline stared at Celestine, hoping that she would continue. Not only had this woman known of
the relationship between Innocenta and Abigail Rockefeller, she appeared to be at the very center of
it. Evangeline wanted to ask her to go on but was afraid that any direct questioning might put
Celestine on guard. Finally she said, “You must know quite a lot about what Mrs. Rockefeller wrote
to Innocenta.”
“It was my work that brought us to the Rhodopes,” Celestine said, meeting Evangeline’s eyes with
a sharpness that unsettled her. “It was my efforts that led us to what we found in the gorge. We were
careful to be sure that everything went as planned in the mountains. They didn’t overtake us, which
was a great relief to Dr. Seraphina, our leader. It was our greatest worry—to be captured before we
made it to the gorge.”
“The gorge?” Evangeline asked, growing confused.
“Our planning was meticulous,” Celestine continued. “We had the most modern equipment and
cameras that allowed us to document our discoveries. We took care to protect the cameras and the
film. The findings were all in order. Wrapped in cloth and cotton. Very secure, indeed.” Celestine
stared out the window as if measuring the rise of the river.
“I’m not sure I understand,” Evangeline said, hoping to prod Celestine to explain. “What cavern?
What findings?”
Sister Celestine met Evangeline’s eyes once more. “We drove through the Rhodopes, entering
through Greece. It was the only way during the war. The Americans and British had begun their
bombing campaigns to the west, in Sofia. The damage was growing each week, and we knew it was
possible that the gorge could be hit, although not likely, of course—it was one cave in thousands.
Still, we pushed everything into motion. It all happened very quickly once the funding from Abigail
Rockefeller was secure. All of the angelologists were summoned to continue their efforts.”
“Angelologists,” Evangeline said, turning the phrase over. Although it was a familiar word, she did
not dare admit this to Celestine.
If Celestine detected a change in Evangeline, she did not let on. “Our enemies did not attack us at
the Devil’s Throat, but they tracked our return to Paris.” Celestine’s voice grew animated, and she
turned to Evangeline, her eyes wide. “They began to hunt us immediately. They put their networks of
spies to work and captured my beloved teacher. I could not stay in France. It was too dangerous to
remain in Europe. I had to come to America, although I had no desire at all to do so. I was given the
responsibility of bringing the object to safety—our discovery was left to my care, you see, and there
was nothing I could do but flee. I still feel that I betrayed our resistance by leaving, but I had no
choice. It was my assignment. While others were dying, I took a boat to New York City. Everything
had been prepared.”
Evangeline struggled to mask her reaction to these bizarre details of Celestine’s history, but the
more she heard, the more difficult it was to remain silent. “Mrs. Rockefeller assisted you in this?” she
asked.
“She arranged for my passage out of the inferno that Europe had become.” This was the first direct
answer she had given to Evangeline. “I was smuggled to Portugal. The others were not so lucky—I
knew even as I departed that the ones left behind were doomed. Once they found us, the horrid devils
killed us. That was their way—vicious, evil, inhuman creatures! They would not rest until we were
exterminated. To this day we are hunted.”
Evangeline stared at Celestine, aghast. She did not know much about the Second World War or
how it pertained to Celestine’s fears, but she worried that such agitation might bring her harm.
“Please, Sister, everything is fine. I assure you that you’re safe now.”
“Safe?” Celestine’s eyes were frozen in fear. “One is never safe. Jamais. ”