see that there is more to angelology than study and debate. Our work grew from the wise decisions of
a band of serious, spiritual men. The First Angelological Expedition, the very first physical attempt
made by angelologists to uncover the prison of the angels, arose when the Venerable Fathers, at the
invitation of their Thracian brothers, organized the Council of Sozopol. It was the founding meeting of
our discipline, and according to the Venerable Father Bogomil, one of the greatest of the founding
fathers, the council was a huge success, not only in forging the standards of our work, but in bringing
together the foremost religious thinkers of the time—not since the Council of Nicea had such a large
assembly of extradenominational representatives gathered. Priests, deacons, acolytes, rabbis, and
Manichaean holy men participated in a flurry of debate over dogma in the main hall. But a secret
gathering was taking place elsewhere. An old priest called Clematis, a bishop of Thracian birth who
lived in Rome, had called together a select group of sympathetic fathers who shared his great passion
for finding the cavern of the Watchers. As a matter of fact, he had developed a theory of the location
of the cave, positing that it, like the remnants of Noah’s Ark, were to be found in proximity to the
Black Sea coast. Eventually Clematis went to the mountains to test this theory. Dr. Raphael and I have
assumed—although we have no proof to bear out our assumptions—that Clematis had drafted a map.”
“But how can you be so certain that there is anything there?” Gabriella said. “What evidence do we
have? What if there is no cavern and it is just a legend?”
“There must be a basis of truth in it,” I said, feeling that Gabriella was too quick in her desire to
challenge our teacher.
“Clematis found the cavern,” Dr. Seraphina said. “The Venerable Father and his team are the only
ones to have discerned the actual location of the pit, the only ones to have descended into it, and the
only people in many thousands of years to have seen the disobedient angels. Clematis died for the
privilege. Thankfully, he dictated a brief account of the expedition before his death. Dr. Raphael and I
have used this account as our primary text in our search.”
“Surely the account points to the location,” I said, anxious to understand the details of Clematis’s
expedition.
“Yes, there is a location mentioned in Clematis’s account,” Dr. Seraphina said. Taking a piece of
paper and a fountain pen, she wrote a series of letters in Cyrillic and presented them to us.
ΓяypcκoTo Бърло
“The name given in Clematis’s account is Gyaurskoto Burlo, which means “Infidels’ Prison” in
Old Bulgarian or, more loosely, ”The Hiding Place of the Infidels“—an accurate description of the
Watchers, who were called disobedient or unfaithful by Christians of the era. The Turks occupied the
region around the Rhodope Mountains from the fourteenth century until the Russians assisted the
Bulgarians in driving them out in 1878, and this serves to complicate the modern hunt: The Muslims
referred to the Bulgarian Christians as infidels, placing another layer of meaning over the original
description of the cave. We made a number of trips to Greece and Bulgaria in the twenties, but to our
great disappointment we found no caves matching this name. When questioned, the villagers associate
the name with the Turks or say they have never heard of the cave at all. After years of cartographic
hunting, we have been unable to find the name on any map of the region. Whether by carelessness or
design, the cave does not exist on paper.”
“Perhaps it is more correct to conclude,” Gabriella said, “that Clematis erred and that there is no
such cave.”
“There you are wrong,” Dr. Seraphina said, the quickness of her response giving evidence of her
passion for the subject. “The prison of the disobedient angels exists. I have wagered my career upon
it.”
“Then there must be a way to find it,” I said, understanding for the first time the full extent of the
Valkos’ desire to solve the riddle. “We need to study Clematis’s account.”
“That,” Seraphina said, going to her cupboard once again, “is for another time, after you have
completed the work at hand.”
I opened the volume before me, curious about what lay under its covers. I could not help but feel
satisfied that my ideas were so aligned with Dr. Seraphina’s work and that Gabriella—who usually
won the Valkos’ admiration—had clashed with our teacher. Yet, to my dismay, Gabriella was utterly