“Dr. Seraphina was explaining to the council that you made a crucial discovery in the cavern,” Dr. Raphael said, examining me carefully. “Would you care to elaborate?”
Fearful that I would give away the secret promise I had made Dr. Seraphina, and equally terrified of exposing how foolhardy I had been to cross the river, I said nothing at all.
“It is obvious that Celestine isn’t feeling well,” Dr. Seraphina said, interceding on my behalf. “If you don’t mind, I would like her to rest for the moment. Allow me to describe the discovery.”
Dr. Seraphina explained the discovery to the council members. She said, “I found Celestine near the riverbank, the careworn sack in her arms. I knew at once by the worn leather that it must have been very old. There is, if you recall, mention of a satchel in the Venerable Father’s account of the First Angelological Expedition.”
“Yes,” Dr. Raphael said. “You are correct. I recall the line exactly: ‘With all haste, I collected the treasure from the fallen creature, cradling the object in my charred hands and placing it in my satchel, safe from harm: ”
“Only after opening the satchel and examining the lyre did I know for certain that it had belonged to Clematis. The Venerable Clematis must have been too stricken to carry the sack to the surface of the gorge,” Dr. Seraphina said. “It is this very satchel that Celestine discovered.”
The council members were awestruck at this news. They turned to me, clearly expecting that I would give the account in greater detail, but I could not speak. Indeed, I could hardly believe that I, of all the members of their party, had made such a long-awaited discovery.
Dr. Raphael remained silent for a moment, as if contemplating the magnitude of the expedition’s success. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, he stood and turned to the council members.
“You may go,” Dr. Raphael said, dismissing the group. “There is food in our rooms below Seraphina and Celestine, would you please stay a moment?”
As the others left, Dr. Seraphina caught my eye, giving me a kind look, as if to assure me that everything would be fine. Dr. Raphael guided the others from the room, radiating a confident serenity that I admired, for his strength of character to contain his emotions was a virtue I wished to emulate. He said, “Tell me, Seraphina-did the party members perform to your expectations?”
“It was, in my opinion, a great success,” Dr. Seraphina said.
“And Celestine?” he inquired.
I felt my stomach twist: Had the expedition been some kind of test?
“For a young angelologist,” Dr. Seraphina said, “she impressed me. The discovery alone should be enough to prove her skill.”
“Fine,” Dr. Raphael said, turning to me. “You are pleased with your work?”
I glanced from Dr. Seraphina to Dr. Raphael, unsure of how to respond. To say that I was satisfied with my work would be a lie, but to speak in detail of what I had done would be to break the promise I had made to Dr. Seraphina. Finally I whispered, “I wish that I had been more prepared.”
“We prepare all of our lives for such moments,” Dr. Raphael said, crossing his arms and looking at me with a critical gaze. “When the time comes, we can only expect that we have learned enough to succeed.”
“You were quite capable,” Dr. Seraphina added. “Your work was superb.”
“I cannot account for my reaction to the gorge,” I said simply. “I found the mission deeply troubling. Even now I have not recovered.”
Dr. Raphael put his arm around his wife, kissing her on the cheek. “Go to the others, Seraphina. There is something I would like to show Celestine.”
Dr. Seraphina turned to me and took my hand. “You were very brave, Celestine, and one day you will make an excellent angelologist.” With this she kissed my cheek and departed. I would never see her again.
Dr. Raphael ushered me from the meeting room and into a corridor smelling of earth and fungus. “Follow me,” he said, stepping quickly down the steps and into darkness. At the bottom of the stairs, there was another passageway, this one longer than the first. I felt the sharp decline in the floor as we walked and adjusted my weight to bolster myself. As we hurried onward, the air grew cooler and the smell became intensely rancid. The damp air moved through my clothes, penetrating the thick wool jacket I had worn into the cavern. Brushing my hands against the wet stone walls, I realized that the uneven fragments were not stone but bones piled into the cavity in the wall. At once I understood their location: We were moving below Montparnasse by way of the catacombs.
We climbed through a second corridor, up a stairway, and into another building. Dr. Raphael unlocked a series of doors, the last of which opened to the crisp, cold air of an alleyway. Rats scattered in all directions, leaving half-eaten scraps-rotting potato peels and chicory, a wartime substitute for coffee. Dr. Raphael took me by the arm and led me around another corner and into the street. We soon found ourselves a number of blocks from the cemetery, where the Panhard et Levassor idled, waiting for us. As we approached the car, I noticed that a square of paper written entirely in German had been fastened in the window. Although I could not make out what it said, I guessed it to be a German permit or license that would allow us to pass checkpoints throughout the city. Now I understood how we managed to keep such a luxurious car and obtain fueclass="underline" The Panhard et Levassor belonged to the Germans. Dr. Valko, who oversaw our undercover operations in the German ranks, had managed to obtain use of it-at least for the evening.
The driver opened the door, and I slid into the warm backseat, Dr. Raphael moving in next to me. Turning, he took my face between his cold hands and gazed at me dispassionately. “Look at me,” he said, examining my features, as if searching for something particular. I returned his gaze, seeing him up close for the first time. He was at least fifty, his skin lined and his hair even more flecked with gray than I had noticed earlier. Our proximity startled me. I had never been so close to a man before.
“Your eyes are blue?” he asked.
“Hazel,” I responded, confused by the strange question.
“Good enough,” he said, opening a small travel suitcase between us. He lifted a satin evening gown, silk stockings and garter belt, and a pair of shoes. I recognized the dress instantly. It was the same red satin dress Gabriella had worn years before.
“Put these on,” Dr. Raphael said. My astonishment must have been apparent, for he added, “You will soon see why this is necessary.”
“But they are Gabriella’s,” I said, objecting before I could stop myself. I could not bring myself to touch the dress, knowing all that I did about her activities. I recalled Dr. Raphael and Gabriella together, and I wished that I had said nothing.
“What of it?” Dr. Raphael demanded.
“The night she wore this dress,” I said, unable to look him in the eye, “I saw the two of you together. You were in the street below our apartment.”
“And you believe that you understand what you saw,” Dr. Raphael said. “How could I misinterpret it?” I whispered, glancing out the window at the dull gray buildings, the progression of streetlamps, the dismal face of Paris in winter. “It was very clear what was happening.”
“Put the dress on,” Dr. Raphael said, his voice stern. “You must place more faith in Gabriella’s motives. Friendship should be stronger than idle suspicions. In times like this, trust is all we have. There is much you do not know. Very soon you will understand the dangers Gabriella has faced.”
Slowly, I unbound myself from my thick woolen clothing. I unbuttoned my trousers and slid the heavy sweater-worn for protection against the icy mountain wind-over my head and wiggled into the gown, careful not to tear it. The dress was too big; I felt it immediately. Four years ago, when Gabriella had worn it, the dress would have been too small for me, but I had lost ten kilos during the war and was little more than skin and bones.