Inferno: (Robert Langdon Book 4) by Dan Brown Read Free Book Online

dream-inducing sprite seemed strangely apt. Langdon only wished that he, like the characters in the play, could now simply wake up and pretend that his most recent experiences were all a dream.
    Langdon carefully replaced all the clippings on the proper page and closed the playbill, feeling an unexpected melancholy as he again saw the note on the cover: Sweetheart, never forget you’re a miracle.
    His eyes moved down to the familiar symbol adorning the cover of the playbill. It was the same early Greek pictogram that adorned most playbills around the world—a 2,500-year-old symbol that had become synonymous with dramatic theater.
    Le maschere.

    Langdon looked at the iconic faces of Comedy and Tragedy gazing up at him, and suddenly he heard a strange humming in his ears—as if a wire were slowly being pulled taut inside his mind. A stab of pain erupted inside his skull. Visions of a mask floated before his eyes. Langdon gasped and raised his hands, sitting down in the desk chair and closing his eyes tightly, clutching at his scalp.
    In his darkness, the bizarre visions returned with a fury … stark and vivid.
    The silver-haired woman with the amulet was calling to him again from across a bloodred river. Her shouts of desperation pierced the putrid air, clearly audible over the sounds of the tortured and dying, who thrashed in agony as far as the eye could see. Langdon again saw theupside-down legs adorned with the letter R , the half-buried body pedaling its legs in wild desperation in the air.
    Seek and find! the woman called to Langdon. Time is running out!
    Langdon again felt the overwhelming need to help her … to help everyone . Frantic, he shouted back to her across the bloodred river. Who are you?!
    Once again, the woman reached up and lifted her veil to reveal the same striking visage that Langdon had seen earlier.
    I am life , she said.
    Without warning, a colossal image materialized in the sky above her—a fearsome mask with a long, beaklike nose and two fiery green eyes, which stared blankly out at Langdon.
    And … I am death , the voice boomed.

CHAPTER 8
    LANGDON’S EYES SHOT open, and he drew a startled breath. He was still seated at Sienna’s desk, head in his hands, heart pounding wildly.
    What the hell is happening to me?
    The images of the silver-haired woman and the beaked mask lingered in his mind. I am life. I am death. He tried to shake the vision, but it felt seared permanently into his mind. On the desk before him, the playbill’s two masks stared up at him.
    Your memories will be muddled and uncataloged , Sienna had told him. Past, present, and imagination all mixed together.
    Langdon felt dizzy.
    Somewhere in the apartment, a phone was ringing. It was a piercing, old-fashioned ring, coming from the kitchen.
    “Sienna?!” Langdon called out, standing up.
    No response. She had not yet returned. After only two rings, an answering machine picked up.
    “Ciao, sono io,” Sienna’s voice happily declared on her outgoing message. “Lasciatemi un messaggio e vi richiamerò.”
    There was a beep, and a panicked woman began leaving a message in a thick Eastern European accent. Her voice echoed down the hall.
    “Sienna, eez Danikova! Where you?! Eez terrible! Your friend Dr. Marconi, he dead! Hospital going craaazy! Police come here! People telling them you running out trying to save patient ?! Why!? You don’t know him! Now police want to talk to you ! They take employee file! I know information wrong—bad address, no numbers, fake working visa—so they no find you today, but soon they find! I try to warn you. So sorry, Sienna.”
    The call ended.
    Langdon felt a fresh wave of remorse engulfing him. From the sounds of the message, Dr. Marconi had been permitting Sienna to work at the hospital. Now Langdon’s presence had cost Marconi his life, and Sienna’s instinct to save a stranger had dire implications for her future.
    Just then a door closed loudly at the far end of the