“But you left,” Evangeline said quietly.
“Yes, I left,” she replied. “I will not go into the details of my motivations, but suffice it to say that I
no longer wanted to participate in our mission. I knew that I was finished even before I arrived in
America.”
A fit of coughing overtook Celestine. Evangeline helped her to sit up and gave her a sip of water.
“On the night we returned from the mountains,” Celestine continued, “we experienced a terrible
tragedy. Seraphina, my mentor, the woman who had recruited me when I was fifteen years old and
trained me, was compromised. I loved Dr. Seraphina dearly. She gave me the opportunity for study
and advancement that few girls my age had attained. Dr. Seraphina believed I could be one of their
finest. Traditionally our members have been monks and scholars, and so my academic skills—I was
quite precocious in school, having a working knowledge of many ancient languages—were especially
attractive to them. Dr. Seraphina promised that they would admit me as a full member, giving me
access to their vast resources, both spiritual and intellectual, after the expedition. Dr. Seraphina was
very dear to me. After that night all of my work suddenly meant nothing. I blame myself for what
happened to her.”
Evangeline could see that Celestine was deeply upset, but she was at a loss for how to comfort her.
“Surely you did all that you could have done.”
“There was much to grieve for in those days. It may be difficult for you to imagine, but millions
were dying in Europe. At the time I felt that our mission to the Rhodopes was the most vital mission at
hand. I did not understand the extent of what was happening in the world at large. I cared only for my
work, my goals, my personal advancement, my cause. I hoped to impress the council members, who
decided the fate of young scholars like myself. Of course, I was wrong to be so blind.”
“Forgive me, Sister,” Evangeline said, “but I still don’t understand—what mission? What
council?”
Evangeline could see the tension growing in Celestine’s expression as she contemplated the
question. She ran her desiccated fingers over the bright colors of the crocheted blanket.
“I will tell you directly, just as my teachers told me,” Celestine said at last. “Only my teachers had
the advantage of being able to introduce me to others like myself and to show me the Angelological
Society’s holdings in Paris. Whereas I was presented with solid, incontrovertible proof that I could
see and touch, you must believe me at my word. My teachers were able to guide me gently into the
world I am about to reveal to you, something I am unable to do for you, my child.”
Evangeline began to speak, but a look from Celestine stopped her cold.
“To put it simply,” Celestine said, “we are at war.”
Unable to respond, Evangeline held the gaze of the woman before her.
“It is a spiritual warfare that plays out upon the stage of human civilization,” Celestine said. “We
are continuing what began long before, when the Giants were born. They lived on the earth then, and
they live today. Humanity fought them then, and we fight them now.”
Evangeline said, “You extrapolate this from Genesis.”
“Do you believe the literal word of the Bible, Sister?” Celestine asked sharply.
“My vows are based upon it,” Evangeline said, startled by the alacrity with which Celestine struck
out at her, the note of chastisement in her voice.
“There have been those who interpret Genesis 6 as metaphorical, as a kind of parable. This is not
my interpretation or my experience.”
“But we do not ever speak of these creatures, these Giants. Not once have I heard them mentioned
by the sisters of St. Rose.”
“Giants, Nephilim, the Famous Ones—these were the ancient names for the children of the angels.
Early Christian scholars argued that angels were free of matter. They characterized them as luminous,
spectral, illuminated, evanescent, incorporeal, sublime. Angels were the messengers of God, infinite
in number, made to carry His will from one realm to the next. Humans, created less perfect—created
in God’s image, but from clay—could only watch in awe at the fiery disembodiment of the angels.
They were superior creatures characterized by lustrous bodies, speed, and holy purpose, their beauty
befitting their roles as the intermediaries between God and creation. And then some of them, a
rebellious few, mixed with humanity. The Giants were the unhappy result.”
“Mixed with humanity?” Evangeline said.
“Women bore the children of angels.” Celestine paused, searching Evangeline’s eyes to be sure the