Код да Винчи

Chapter 32

           

           I’mdreaming,Sophietoldherself.Adream.Whatelsecouldthisbe?

           Everyoneintheroomwaswearingamask.Thewomenweredressedinwhitegossamergownsandgoldenshoes.Theirmaskswerewhite,andintheirhandstheycarriedgoldenorbs.Themenworelongblacktunics,andtheirmaskswereblack.Theylookedlikepiecesinagiantchessset.Everyoneinthecirclerockedbackandforthandchantedinreverencetosomethingonthefloorbeforethem…somethingSophiecouldnotsee.

           Thechantinggrewsteadyagain.Accelerating.Thunderingnow.Faster.Theparticipantstookastepinwardandknelt.Inthatinstant,Sophiecouldfinallyseewhattheyallwerewitnessing.Evenasshestaggeredbackinhorror,shefelttheimagesearingitselfintohermemoryforever.Overtakenbynausea,Sophiespun,clutchingatthestonewallsassheclamberedbackupthestairs.Pullingthedoorclosed,shefledthedesertedhouse,anddroveinatearfulstuporbacktoParis.

           Thatnight,withherlifeshatteredbydisillusionmentandbetrayal,shepackedherbelongingsandleftherhome.Onthediningroomtable,sheleftanote.

           IWASTHERE.DON’TTRYTOFINDME.

           Besidethenote,shelaidtheoldsparekeyfromthechâteau’swoodshed.

           «Sophie!Langdon’svoiceintruded.«Stop!Stop!»

           Emergingfromthememory,Sophieslammedonthebrakes,skiddingtoahalt.«What?Whathappened?!»

           Langdonpointeddownthelongstreetbeforethem.

           Whenshesawit,Sophie’sbloodwentcold.Ahundredyardsahead,theintersectionwasblockedbyacoupleofDCPJpolicecars,parkedaskew,theirpurposeobvious

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