Angelology(95)

the treacherous river.

Being five in number, and all of healthy weight, my first concern was that we would not fit

into the cavity of the narrow boat. I stepped inside, holding myself upright against the violent

rocking beneath my feet. I had no doubt that if the craft should tip, the merciless current would

drag me down into a labyrinth of rocks. With some maneuvering, I achieved equilibrium and

sat securely at the helm. The others followed, and soon we set off into the current, Brother

Francis pushing the boat slowly toward the far shore with a wooden pole oar, the river

sweeping us away from the entrance of the cavern and on to our doom.

X13

The creatures hissed from their rocky cells as we approached, venomous as snakes, their

startling blue eyes fixing upon us, their mighty wings beating against the bars of their prison,

hundreds of impenitent dark angels tearing at their glowing white robes, crying out for

salvation, beseeching us, the emissaries of God, to set them free.

XI

My brothers fell to their knees, transfixed by the horrible spectacle before us. Deep in the

hollow of the mountain, stretching as far as the eye could see, were innumerable prison cells

containing hundreds of majestic creatures. I stepped closer, trying to comprehend what I saw.

The creatures were otherworldly, so infused with light that I could not look into the depths of

the cave without averting my eyes. Yet, as one longs to look into the center of a flame, burning

one’s vision upon the palest blue core of the fire, so I desired to see the heavenly creatures

before me. At last I discerned that each narrow cell contained a single bound angel. Brother

Francis clutched my arm in terror, begging me to return to the boat. But in my fervor, I did not

listen. I turned to the others and ordered them to rise and follow me inside.

The moaning ceased as we entered the prison. The creatures peered from behind thick iron

bars, their bulging eyes following our every movement. Their desire for liberation could be

no surprise: They had been chained inside the mountain for thousands of years, waiting to be

released. Yet, there was nothing wretched about them. Their bodies radiated an intense

luminosity, a golden light that rose from their transparent skin, creating a golden nimbus

around them. Physically, they were far superior to humankind—tall and elegant, with wings

that folded about them from shoulder to ankle, shrouding their tapering bodies like pure white

cloaks. Such beauty was like nothing I had seen or imagined before. At last I understood how

these celestial creatures had seduced the Daughters of Men and why the Nephilim so admired

their patrimony. As I stepped deeper into their midst, my anticipation growing with each step,

it struck me that we had made our way to the abyss to fulfill a purpose we had not anticipated.

I had believed our mission to be the recovery of the angelic treasure, but I now gleaned the

terrible truth: We had come to the pit to set the Disobedient Angels free.

From the recesses of a dingy cell, an angel with masses of golden hair stepped forward. He

held a polished lyre in his hands, its belly rotund.14 Lifting the lyre into his arms, he plucked

the strings until a fine, ethereal music echoed through the cavern. I cannot say whether it was

the particular resonance of the cave or the quality of the instrument, but the sound was rich and

full, an enchanting music that worked upon my senses until I thought I would go mad from

bliss. Soon, the angel began to sing, its voice climbing and falling with the lyre. As if taking

cue from this divine progression, the others joined the chorus, each voice rising to create the

music of heaven, a confluence akin to the congregation described by Daniel, ten thousand

times ten thousand angels. We stood, transfixed, utterly disarmed by the celestial choir. The

melody has been burned upon my mind. Even now I hear it.15

From where I stood, I watched the angel. Gently, it lifted its long thin arms and stretched its

immense wings. Going to the door of its cell, I unlatched a heavily calcified hook, and in a

burst of force that knocked me upon the floor, the angel pushed open the door to its cell and

stepped free. I discerned the pleasure the creature took in its liberty. The imprisoned angels

roared from their cells, jealous of their brother’s victory, vicious and hungry creatures

demanding freedom.

In my fascination with the angels themselves, I had failed to notice the effect the music had

upon my brothers. Suddenly, before I could perceive that a spell had been cast upon his mind

by this demonic production, Brother Francis rushed to the angelic choir. In what appeared to

be a state of insanity, Brother Francis knelt before the creatures in supplication. The angel

dropped the lyre, instantly halting the chorus of sublime music, and touched Brother Francis,