Page 53 of The Secret of Secrets (Robert Langdon #6)

Lieutenant Pavel burst into the Pet?ín Tower visitor’s hall with his gun already drawn.

“Kde je ten Ameri?an?!” he shouted in Czech to the attendant behind the counter.

The frightened woman backed up, dropping the stack of brochures she was arranging in the countertop display. She pointed overhead as Pavel described Langdon. “He went up!” she exclaimed, cowering.

Pavel could hear the elevator moving in the shaft, the sound growing louder. Descending. The staircase was cordoned off and closed. Perfect.

The elevator pinged, and Pavel set his feet wide and raised his weapon. When the door slid open, he found himself aiming at a young Indian couple, both of whom leaped back at the sight of Pavel’s gun.

“Get out!” Pavel commanded.

As the couple scurried away, Pavel charged into the lift and stabbed the button for his lone option—the top. In his hand, the captain’s weapon was loaded and ready to fire.

Ascending, Pavel paced the tiny compartment like a wild animal until finally the lift lurched to a stop and the doors opened, springing him free.

He stormed out of the elevator with his gun raised.

Finger on the trigger, he wheeled left and right, scanning the platform for his target.

Nobody. Knowing there was only one place Langdon could be, Pavel sprinted clockwise around the elevator shaft to the other side of the tower.

Strangely, he found nobody there either.

Pressing on, Pavel ran all the way around the small platform and arrived right back where he had started.

The elevator stood open. And empty.

Where the hell did he go?!

Pavel stopped, lowering his gun.

The platform was deserted.

The throbbing in Pavel’s skull suddenly intensified on account of his exertion, and with it surged a fresh wave of rage.

The wind gusted, whistling loudly, but above that plaintive howl, Pavel heard something else—a repetitive pounding somewhere beneath the platform.

For a moment, he thought a workman was hammering metal, but the rate was too frantic and fast.

Then Pavel saw it.

At the top of the descending spiral staircase, the No Entry swag was lying on the ground…along with fresh footprints on the metal stairs.

Bad move, Professor.

Pavel leaped into the elevator just as the doors were starting to close. Even if Langdon managed the perilous descent without plunging over the railings, there would be nowhere to run once he reached the bottom.

Sixty feet below the observation deck, Langdon feared he’d made a terrible mistake.

He was bounding down the tight spiral of the open-air staircase at breakneck speed with almost no traction from his hard-soled loafers, which were clanging loudly on the icy metal treads.

Somewhere above him, the elevator was already whirring back into motion, descending loudly through the enclosed shaft around which Langdon was spiraling.

Faster, Robert.

Langdon’s hands were quickly freezing as they slid along the metal railings on either side of the treacherous stairs, the only way to steady his descent on such perilous footing.

Overhead, the elevator sounded like it was gaining on him, and Langdon questioned if he could win the race to the bottom.

A tie would go in Pavel’s favor; the lieutenant was carrying a gun, and Langdon somehow doubted that the blow to Pavel’s head had imbued the man with any additional self-restraint.

Where would I even run? He clearly won’t hesitate to shoot me.

The only option Langdon had seen was Pet?ín Park behind the welcome center. And the only way to reach it would be to sprint through the visitor’s center and out of the building before the elevator doors opened.

A moment later, however, he realized he was too late.

As he spiraled down the staircase, the elevator shaft beside him began shuddering with an unmistakable sound—the grating scrape of the elevator passing him by.

Lieutenant Pavel exploded into the visitor’s center like a bull entering a ring. The attendant and Indian couple were huddled to one side.

“Kde je?!” Pavel shouted. “The American! Where?”

The frightened attendant shook her head and shrugged.

Good, Pavel thought. You’re still above me.

He moved to the bottom of the spiral staircase and trained his weapon up into the void, awaiting Langdon’s arrival. After ten seconds passed, however, he quickly realized it was entirely too quiet above him. The clanging of Langdon’s footsteps had stopped.

Dead silence.

And then…he heard a heavy thud directly overhead.

Langdon landed harder than anticipated on the roof of the visitor’s center.

Having halted his descent where the stairs entered the rooftop, he had gripped the handrail and swung his legs up and to the left, launching his body over the low railing and sticking an inelegant landing on the gently sloped roof.

He rolled onto his stomach, slid down to the edge, and lowered himself feetfirst over the gutter, dropping the short distance to the ground on the backside of the building.

Langdon assumed his amateur gymnastics had not gone undetected inside, and he wasted no time dashing into the woods and moving away from the tower as fast as he could.

Barely thirty yards from the structure, Langdon heard Pavel yelling and crashing through the snowy forest behind him. That was fast. Langdon had hoped for a longer head start. He also wished his footwear had been made by Nike rather than Tod’s.

As he sprinted through the trees, Langdon had the uneasy sense that Pet?ín Tower had all been a setup.

Within a few minutes of Langdon’s arrival, úZSI had appeared.

He wondered if perhaps the note had been left by Pavel?

Was he trying to isolate me so he could shoot me? Does someone actually want me dead?!

I have Katherine. Come to Pet?ín Tower.

Clearly, Katherine was not here, and it seemed unlikely that she had been. Nothing was making much sense—including Katherine’s Enochian email.

LXXEDOC?

What is she trying to tell me?!

Not far ahead, Langdon saw a clearing with several of the park’s attractions—carousel, pony stable, rose garden, chapel. Breaking free of the forest, he dashed onto the gravel courtyard, grateful for the firmer footing, though he could hear the heavy footfalls of his pursuer behind him.

Langdon raced past the stable and garden to the chapel, whose rooftop belvedere was historically a symbol of “sanctuary,” although the padlock on its door sent a different message.

Without breaking stride, he scanned the plaza for any other shelter.

He saw three buildings ahead and made his decision in an instant.

The first two structures were most likely locked at this hour—Calvary Chapel and the Church of St. Lawrence—both part of a program to Christianize this pagan hill.

The third structure was a kitschy, bright yellow, fairy-tale castle whose faux turrets flew colorful coat-of-arm banners on rooked fortress walls.

Beyond the fake drawbridge, a man in a medieval costume was just now hoisting the iron gate, apparently opening the castle for the day.

Over the entrance hung a banner that read: Vítejte / Welcome .

Sometimes the universe points the way, Langdon thought.

Whether or not the sign was a cosmic nudge in the right direction, Langdon saw no other options for cover.

A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that Pavel had already emerged from the woods at the far end of the plaza, and he seemed to be gaining ground.

Digging in, Langdon dashed across the faux drawbridge, past the startled attendant, skidding into a small anteroom whose unmanned ticket booth bore a sign:

ZRCADLOVé BLUDI?Tě

Langdon had no idea what the words meant, but it didn’t matter; the anteroom contained a single turnstile that blocked what appeared to be the only entrance into the castle—a narrow archway into a darkened hallway.

Forgive me, Cinderella, Langdon thought, vaulting over the turnstile and rushing through the opening. He sprinted down a stone corridor, took a hard left, and plunged into a glistening six-sided room. Langdon skidded to a halt, stunned by what he saw surrounding him.

What the…?!

Six men stood in a circle, evenly spaced around Langdon, all staring directly at him.

Stranger still, all six men were Robert Langdon himself.

Langdon now realized the meaning of ZRCADLOVé BLUDI?Tě , and he desperately wished he had made a different choice.