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Robert Langdon aith a start He had been drearah the blinds Is it dusk ordawn? he wondered

Langdon’s body felt warm and deeply contented He had slept the better part of the last two days Sitting up slowly in bed, he now realized what had awoken hi to sort through a barrage of infor he’d not considered before

Could it be?

He re out of bed, he walked to theinside, he let the powerful jets ht enthralled him

Idon stepped out of the Hotel Ritz into Place Vendô The days of sleep had left him disoriented and yet his mind felt oddly lucid He had promised himself he would stop in the hotel lobby for a cafe au lait to clear his thoughts, but instead his legs carried hiht

Walking east on Rue des Petits Cha excitereith the scent of blossoardens of the Palais Royal

He continued south until he sahat he was looking for - the fa expanse of polished black don scanned the surface beneath his feet Within seconds, he found what he kneas there - several bronze ht line Each disk was five inches in diameter and embossed with the letters N and S

Nord Sud

He turned due south, letting his eye trace the extended line for the trail, watching the pavement as he walked As he cut across the corner of the Comedie-Française, another bronze medallion passed beneath his feet Yes!

The streets of Paris, Langdon had learned years ago, were adorned with 135 of these bronze markers, embedded in sidewalks, courtyards, and streets, on a north-south axis across the city He had once followed the line from Sacre-Coeur, north across the Seine, and finally to the ancient Paris Observatory There he discovered the significance of the sacred path it traced

The earth’s original priitude of the worldParis’s ancient Rose Line Now, as Langdon hurried across Rue de Rivoli, he could feel his destination within reach Less than a block away

The Holy Grail ’neath ancient Roslin waits

The revelations were co of Roslin the blade and chalice the tomb adorned with masters’ art

Is that why Sauniere needed to talk with uessed the truth?

He broke into a jog, feeling the Rose Line beneath his feet, guiding hi tunnel of Passage Richelieu, the hairs on his neck began to bristle with anticipation He knew that at the end of this tunnel stood the most mysterious of Parisian monuments - conceived and commissioned in the 1980s by the Sphinx himself, François Mitterrand, a acy to Paris was a place Langdon had visited only days before

Another lifetidon burst froeway into the familiar courtyard and came to a stop Breathless, he raised his eyes, slowly, disbelieving, to the glistening structure in front of hi in the darkness

He admired it only a ht Turning, he felt his feet again tracing the invisible path of the ancient Rose Line, carrying him across the courtyard to the Carrousel du Louvre - the enorrass surrounded by a peries - once the site of Paris’s pri festivals joyous rites to celebrate fertility and the Goddess