Chapter 74

           Langdonsawwhathewaslookingforagoodtenyardsbeforetheyreachedit.Throughthescatteredtourists,thewhitemarbleellipseofBernini’sWestPonentestoodoutagainstthegraygranitecubesthatmadeuptherestofthepiazza.Vittoriaapparentlysawittoo.Herhandtensed.

           "Relax,"Langdonwhispered."Doyourpiranhathing."

           Vittorialoosenedhergrip.

           Astheydrewnearer,everythingseemedforbiddinglynormal.Touristswandered,nunschattedalongtheperimeterofthepiazza,agirlfedpigeonsatthebaseoftheobelisk.

           Langdonrefrainedfromcheckinghiswatch.Heknewitwasalmosttime.

           Theellipticalstonearrivedbeneaththeirfeet,andLangdonandVittoriaslowedtoastop—notovereagerly—justtwotouristspausingdutifullyatapointofmildinterest.

           "WestPonente,"Vittoriasaid,readingtheinscriptiononthestone.

           Langdongazeddownatthemarblereliefandfeltsuddenlynaive.Notinhisartbooks,notinhisnumeroustripstoRome,noteverhadWestPonente’ssignificancejumpedoutathim.

           Notuntilnow.

           Thereliefwaselliptical,aboutthreefeetlong,andcarvedwitharudimentaryface—adepictionoftheWestWindasanangel-likecountenance.Gustingfromtheangel’smouth,BerninihaddrawnapowerfulbreathofairblowingoutwardawayfromtheVatican…thebreathofGod.ThiswasBernini’stributetothesecondelement…Air…anetherealzephyrblownfromangel’slips.AsLangdonstared,herealizedthesignificanceofthereliefwentdeeperstill