"With that image in mind, allow me to read verbatim from the ancient electoral laws." The man pulled some papers from his pocket, cleared his throat, and began to read. "'Election by Adoration occurs when… all the cardinals, as if by inspiration of the Holy Spirit, freely and spontaneously, unanimously and aloud, proclaim one individual’s name.'"

Glick smiled. "So you’re saying that last night, when the cardinals chanted Carlo Ventresca’s name together, they actually elected him Pope?"

"They did indeed. Furthermore, the law states that Election by Adoration supercedes the cardinal eligibility requirement and permits any clergyman—ordained priest, bishop, or cardinal—to be elected. So, as you can see, the camerlegno was perfectly qualified for papal election by this procedure." Dr. Vanek looked directly into the camera now. "The facts are these… Carlo Ventresca was elected Pope last night. He reigned for just under seventeen minutes. And had he not ascended miraculously into a pillar of fire, he would now be buried in the Vatican Grottoes along with the other Popes."

"Thank you, doctor." Glick turned to Macri with a mischievous wink. "Most illuminating…"

137

High atop the steps of the Roman Coliseum, Vittoria laughed and called down to him. "Robert, hurry up! I knew I should have married a younger man!" Her smile was magic.

He struggled to keep up, but his legs felt like stone. "Wait," he begged. "Please…"

There was a pounding in his head.

Robert Langdon awoke with a start.

Darkness.

He lay still for a long time in the foreign softness of the bed, unable to figure out where he was. The pillows were goose down, oversized and wonderful. The air smelled of potpourri. Across the room, two glass doors stood open to a lavish balcony, where a light breeze played beneath a glistening cloud-swept moon. Langdon tried to remember how he had gotten here… and where here was.

Surreal wisps of memory sifted back into his consciousness…

A pyre of mystical fire… an angel materializing from out of the crowd… her soft hand taking his and leading him into the night… guiding his exhausted, battered body through the streets… leading him here… to this suite… propping him half-sleeping in a scalding hot shower… leading him to this bed… and watching over him as he fell asleep like the dead.

In the dimness now, Langdon could see a second bed. The sheets were tousled, but the bed was empty. From one of the adjoining rooms, he could hear the faint, steady stream of a shower.

As he gazed at Vittoria’s bed, he saw a boldly embroidered seal on her pillowcase. It read: HOTEL BERNINI. Langdon had to smile. Vittoria had chosen well. Old World luxury overlooking Bernini’s Triton Fountain… there was no more fitting hotel in all of Rome.

As Langdon lay there, he heard a pounding and realized what had awoken him. Someone was knocking at the door. It grew louder.

Confused, Langdon got up. Nobody knows we’re here, he thought, feeling a trace of uneasiness. Donning a luxuriant Hotel Bernini robe, he walked out of the bedroom into the suite’s foyer. He stood a moment at the heavy oak door, and then pulled it open.

A powerful man adorned in lavish purple and yellow regalia stared down at him. "I am Lieutenant Chartrand," the man said. "Vatican Swiss Guard."

Langdon knew full well who he was. "How… how did you find us?"

"I saw you leave the square last night. I followed you. I’m relieved you’re still here."

Langdon felt a sudden anxiety, wondering if the cardinals had sent Chartrand to escort Langdon and Vittoria back to Vatican City. After all, the two of them were the only two people beyond the College of Cardinals who knew the truth. They were a liability.

"His Holiness asked me to give this to you," Chartrand said, handing over an envelope sealed with the Vatican signet. Langdon opened the envelope and read the handwritten note.