Chapter 12

Part 1

We pulled into the small parking lot adjacent to the Musée Archéologique de Nice-Cimiez, the museum where Father Francis' contact, Eloise Brodeur, worked. The museum was a squat concrete building not at all in keeping with my idea of French museums - which should all look like the Louvre, or at least a scaled down version of that world-famous institute.

We had pushed on straight through the night. It was now late morning.

Beatrice and I were both wearing white nun habits while Father Francis was still wearing his priestly vestments. He filled them out differently now with much of his weight seemingly having migrated from a small pot-belly to suddenly muscular shoulders. He was definitely hot.

It had now been a little over twenty-four hours since his transformation from the walking dead and I was still struggling to adjust. Before getting sucked into the world of demons and angels, I had never encountered a dead body other than seeing them on television. Well, I may have seen the body of my Mother after she was killed in the car accident, but I have almost no memories of that horrific night. And by the time I was out of surgery and sufficiently off painkillers to think clearly, her body was already long buried.

So, seeing Father Francis suddenly moving around energetically and laughing and talking like a normal person was still something of a shock.

We had all agreed that Beatrice and I would accompany Father Francis to meet the Ancient Hebrew expert. Mary and Father Antonio were to wait in one van with the angelic devices while Lilith and Camila would wait in the other van with all our divinium weapons and armor. We wanted to meet the woman before allowing her to see the staff. And, ideally, we wanted her to see and, hopefully, translate the writing on the staff somewhere where everyone could be present – which meant somewhere where Lilith, Camila, and I could be involved but still a safe distance from the angelic device. And also somewhere more private than a museum, as we had no idea what might happen once the writing had been translated.

Father Francis reached the front door first. He opened it and then gallantly gestured us through first, "After you, sisters."

We stepped inside and I took a moment to enjoy the cool air-conditioned air. It was mid-summer and the day was hot even with the city of Nice perched right at the edge of the sea.

"Which way, Father?" I asked. He had known Doctor Brodeur for over ten years and had said he had been to this museum a half dozen times over the years.

He gestured to an information desk to our right. Directly in front of us was a wall of windows overlooking what had to be almost a square kilometer of old ruins.

"Hello," said Father Francis, when he reached the counter where a youngish blond receptionist sat. "We are here to see Doctor Brodeur. We don't have an appointment, but tell her it is Father Francis O'Mallory. I'm sure she'll be willing to see us."

I watched as the woman's eyes flicked over Father Francis' body, clearly enticed. It took her a moment to get herself back under control. Obviously, I wasn't the only one who found the priest hot.

"Of course, Father," she said sounding slightly flustered. Then, reaching for the phone, she added in a more even tone. "Let me see if she is in her office."

Father Francis nodded and then moved away from the desk and walked over to the windows overlooking the ruins. I wasn't sure if it was to give the woman privacy or if he knew from experience it was going to take a few minutes.

When Beatrice and I joined him, he gestured towards the window. "This was once the heart of the Roman city of Cemenelum. The town was founded around 100 B.C. when the Romans gained control of the region. The ruins include an amphitheater with seating for five thousand and thermal baths. Based on the size of these structures, the town is estimated to have been home to around ten thousand habitants over much of its existence."

I stared out; all I saw was a bunch of stones, most of them in just loose tumbles and only a few forming structures that could be called walls. I was never a history buff and these days my interest in old history is limited to knowledge about things that can help us in battle - like powerful relics. I had no enthusiasm for a lecture on some long forgotten, unimportant town.

I don't know if Beatrice was more interested or just willing to put forth a little effort to be polite.

"Did the town survive until the Christian era, Father?" asked Beatrice.

Father Francis stared off into the distance for a few seconds, almost as though he hadn't heard her.

"I think so. From what I remember, a part of the old thermal baths were torn down around the seventh century as building materials for homes, which would indicate some level of occupation well into the Christian Era. But Eloise is the expert. She could tell you for certain."

"If she's an expert on Ancient Hebrew, how did she end up working for a museum that focuses on the Roman era?" I asked.

"Well, there aren't a lot of scholarly opportunities outside of Israel for people who are focused on that era these days. And Eloise wanted something closer to home as she nears retirement. She is originally from Nice . . ."

Father Francis was abruptly interrupted by a woman's sharp voice from almost directly behind us. It was so unexpected, it almost made me jump.

"What game are you people playing at?" she demanded. "Father O'Mallory is dead. Why are you trying to use his name to get to me?"

Father Francis spun around, a smile forming on his face.

I was only slightly slower. The woman facing us had to be about sixty with gray hair verging towards pure white. She was relatively tall and carried a few extra pounds, but not too much considering her age. She was wearing a white lab coat which was open along the front revealing a blue dress that ended just above her knees. The dress wasn't particularly low-cut, just enough to highlight the single strand of pearls around her neck. Adorning her face were a pair of blue cat-eye glasses encrusted with small rhinestones that instantly reminded me of the pair Marilyn Monroe had worn in How to Marry a Millionaire.

The one word description of my first impression of Eloise Brodeur: elegant.

"I'm afraid the rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated," said Father Francis, his smile turning into an outright laugh.

"Who are you?" demanded Doctor Brodeur, clearly not amused or mollified by the Mark Twain quote. Of course, not only was Father Francis alive, he didn't look remotely like his former self.

"It is me, Eloise," replied Father Francis, his tone becoming more serious although it was clearly taking an effort on his part. "I guess you could say I experienced a miracle."

Doctor Brodeur just continued to scowl.

Father Francis sighed. "For your last birthday, I sent you a small pewter Celtic Cross. Accompanying the cross was a note that read To my dearest Eloise, If only we had met forty years ago. Yours in God, Francis."

A frown abruptly creased the woman's surprisingly unlined face. "How could you know that?"

"It is me," reiterated Father Francis. "It is a long story, but I was dead, but then I was brought back to life and in the process I was restored to how I looked when I was twenty-five. As I said, I got caught up in a miracle."

The woman just stared at Father Francis - clearly unable to believe him, yet unable to explain his knowledge about the birthday gift that could only have been known by her and the real Father Francis.

I hated to interrupt, but patience had never been my strong suit. I discretely coughed.

Father Francis glanced in my direction. "Ah, where are my manners. Eloise, may I introduce Sister Ava and Sister Beatrice."

"Doctor Brodeur, we need your help," I began. "And I'm afraid it means you are going to be sucked, at least a little way, into a hidden world filled with demons, monsters, and . . . and miracles."

She looked at me like I was crazy. Then her eyes swept back and forth between Father Francis, Beatrice, and me. Of course, if someone had come up to me before I acquired the Halo and said the outlandish things we had, I would doubtlessly have thought them crazy, too.

I was trying to figure out how to give a quick demonstration with the Halo while not revealing anything to the nearby receptionist when Beatrice finally stepped in.

"Doctor Brodeur, you are going to have to act on faith for a few minutes until we can explain things in more detail," Beatrice was displaying the broad, heavenly smile I had first experienced after her first conversation with the angel Michaela. For a moment I could feel my mind going unfocused. "We need your help with translating some Ancient Hebrew."

Once Beatrice stopped speaking, my brain quickly began functioning again. I glanced at Doctor Brodeur and could see she still had a dazed expression.

"Eloise," said Father Francis while stepping closer and lightly clasping her arm just above the elbow. "Eloise, we need your help. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't important."

Doctor Brodeur shook her head once as though to clear it and then looked at Father Francis. "Is it really you, Francis?"

"Yes. It is really me. Will you help us?"

She took a deep breath and then nodded. "Let's go back to my office and you can show me what you need translated."

"Ah . . . it is best we don't do it here in the museum. We aren't certain what might happen once the text is translated."

"What?!"

"Just knowing what the text says might cause an instantaneous miracle, like what happened to me, or a catastrophic disaster, or maybe nothing. But it is best we do it somewhere more private. Remember when you took me to Parc du Vinaigrier for the picnic that one time? I thought we could do it there."

Doctor Brodeur sprouted a small smile at the last remark. "Francis, it is really you."

Father Francis just nodded.

"Give me five minutes to run back to my office to grab a couple of reference books, in case they are needed."

For a second, I thought Father Francis was going to insist on accompanying her to her office, but then he just nodded. He must have realized she needed a couple of minutes to get her head around things.

Part 2

The park Father Francis had mentioned was about a fifteen minute drive from the museum. Most of it was located in a wide ravine between a pair of steep hills. For being located almost within the heart of Nice, it felt surprisingly remote. The small parking lot at the end of the gravel trail was fortunately empty when we arrived.

Doctor Brodeur had ridden with Mary, Beatrice, and the two Fathers. Therefore, she didn't get a good look at Lilith until everyone was exiting the vans.

"Mother of God!" exclaimed Doctor Brodeur while crossing herself, as Lilith climbed out of the other van and briefly spread her wide wings in the same way anyone else would stretch the muscles in their back, shoulders, and neck after being cooped up in a car for an extended period of time.

"Ah, that would be Sister Lilith," explained Father Francis while once again taking Doctor Brodeur's free arm, the one that wasn't clutching several books like they were her only lifeline to the sane world she had suddenly left behind. "From what I understand, she had an unfortunate encounter with a monster from the demonic realm, but that was before I got drawn into this whole adventure. Of course, if I hadn't been drawn in, I would be dead right now, so I can't complain too much about being a part of things."

I was standing by the second van with Lilith and Camila. Camila leaned back into the van and retrieved divinium swords for Lilith, herself, and me.

"Ladies, Father Antonio," called Father Francis. Once he had everyone's attention, he raised his free hand and pointed off to his left. "There are several picnic tables over there that aren't visible from this parking area. That seems like the best place to translate the text, as we should be able to see anyone arriving before they see us."

Mary leaned back into the other van and retrieved the cloth wrapped staff and handed it to Beatrice. Then she shouldered the bag containing the Seer Stone and the Holy Chalice. Leaving some of the divinium armor and weapons locked in one of the vans seemed like an acceptable risk, but none of us wanted to risk letting any of the angelic relics out of our sight.

Father Francis led the way with his hand still clasping Doctor Broder's arm. Mary, Beatrice, and Father Antonio walked immediately behind them while Lilith, Camila, and I followed behind at a safe distance.

Once the picnic tables were in sight, Camila said she would keep a lookout and retreated to a spot where she could see both us and the parking lot.

The pair of picnic tables were located pretty close together, but the two Fathers quickly moved one until they were separated by a good six meters. Lilith and I quickly seated ourselves at the nearer table while the others congregated around the far table.

Before taking a seat, Beatrice laid the cloth-wrapped staff lengthwise on top of the table.

"What we need translated is the writing on this staff," said Beatrice as she removed its wrapping.

Before recruiting Doctor Brodeur, we had agreed to give her the minimum information possible so as to not bias anything she might decipher.

Doctor Brodeur stood back up and leaned forward over the table until her face was only inches from the staff. Slowly, she rotated the staff looking at it from all sides and angles. Finally, after nearly five minutes, she straightened and sat back down.

Looking across the table, in Beatrice's direction, but in a loud enough voice that we could all hear, she said, "The text is just a list of names, nothing more."

"What are the names?" asked Beatrice.

Doctor Brodeur pulled the staff closer until the upper end of the staff was right in front of her. Then she ran her finger along the first bit of the engraved text. "Moses . . . Joshua . . . Othniel . . . Shamgar . . . Gideon . . . Jephthah . . . Abdon . . . Samson . . . and that is just the first eight names. As I said, all the text appears to be just a list of names."

"Does this list of names have any particular significance to you?" Beatrice asked.

Doctor Brodeur looked down at the staff again. "Obviously, everyone is familiar with Moses and Joshua from the story of the Israelites exodus from Egypt. The next group of names belong to some, but not all, of the Judges of ancient Israel as found in the book of Judges. After that you get Samuel, Saul, David, and many of the Davidic Kings that followed David."

"And as an Ancient Hebrew scholar, what do these people all have in common?" asked Beatrice.

Doctor Brodeur looked down at the staff again. Even from six meters away, I could see when the light bulb clicked on.

"Their histories were all connected to the Staff of God," she said. Then she turned and stared at Beatrice. "Is this the Staff of God?"

Beatrice gave a hesitant shrug. "Possibly. All we really know is that it is from the angelic realm as Ava, Lilith, and Camila can't approach within four meters of it. They have all been contaminated in various ways by the demonic realm."

"Could the names be a sequential list of the people who have possessed the staff with the power to use it?" I asked in a slightly raised voice to be sure Doctor Brodeur heard me.

"It is possible," replied Doctor Brodeur. "Or at least those among the first fifteen that I recognize are in chronological order according to all the sources I'm familiar with."

"What is the last name on the list?" I asked.

Doctor Brodeur slid the shaft down until the portion nearest the bottom was in front of her. Then she slowly rotated it. Apparently, the names spiraled around the circumference of the shaft.

"The last name, while written in the Hebrew alphabet, doesn't feel like an actual Hebrew name. The closest I can translate is something like Veatriki of Feline's Crib."

I shared a sudden glance with Lilith.

"Could that be Beatrice of Cat's Cradle?"

Doctor Brodeur glanced down at the staff again. "Yes, it could be interpreted that way." Then she looked across the picnic table. "Wait, your name is Beatrice, right."

"That's right," I said. "Sister Beatrice is a member of the Order of the Cruciform Sword. For many years, the Order was based out of an Abbey which locally went by the name Cat's Cradle."

"What are the names preceding it?" asked Beatrice.

"Ah . . . the next one isn't really a Hebrew name either. It would phonetically translate as Al-phone-sow Five."

Beatrice nodded. "That would be Alfonso V of Aragon. He was the one who donated the Holy Chalice to the Valencia Cathedral. It is possible, maybe probable, that he was the one who arranged for the Staff to be hidden in the cathedral."

"The next name translates as James I the Judge," continued Doctor Brodeur. "In Ancient Hebrew, the term Judge didn't mean judge in the modern sense, but rather was a term given to military warlords."

"That name is probably a reference to James I the Conqueror. He was the King of Aragon several hundred years before the time of Alfonso," stated Beatrice.

Doctor Brodeur looked back down at the staff. "Then next prior name looks like it might be Arabic, maybe something roughly like Abu Baker of Hod or Hud."

"James I fought a number of battles against Muslims while conquering large areas of Spain for the Christians. It is certainly possible he acquired the staff from a Muslim during one of his campaigns."

Suddenly, Camila came running up.

"Everyone, you need to check CNN. It's . . . it's horrible," she stuttered out. She had her phone in one hand, her sword in the other and tears were streaming down her face.

I pulled out my phone wondering what could have happened that would upset Camila so badly. I had been through countless battles with her over the preceding year and I had never seen her so shaken.

Lilith leaned close as I googled CNN. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Beatrice also had her phone out and everyone at the other table was crowded around her.

Suddenly my phone's speaker came alive. Beatrice's must have been accessing the same feed as her phone was like a slightly delayed echo.

"For those just joining us, two chemical tanker trucks collided and ruptured just at the edge of Vatican City. The combined gases formed a toxic cloud that drifted across that famous and historic site killing everyone it encountered. The death toll is preliminarily estimated to include four hundred Vatican City residents, fifteen hundred day workers, and thirty-five hundred tourists. Pope Callixtus IV was in residence today and is assumed to be among the dead along with numerous cardinals and other Vatican officials."