I am the Shade.
Through the dolent city, I flee.
Through the eternal woe, I take flight.
Along the banks of the river Arno, I scramble, breathless . . . turning left onto Via dei Castellani, making my way northward, huddling in the shadows of the Uffizi.
And still they pursue me.
Their footsteps grow louder now as they hunt with relentless determination.
For years they have pursued me. Their persistence has kept me underground . . . forced me to live in purgatory . . . laboring beneath the earth like a chthonic monster.
I am the Shade.
Here aboveground, I raise my eyes to the north, but I am unable to find a direct path to salvation . . . for the Apennine Mountains are blotting out the first light of dawn.
I pass behind the palazzo with its crenellated tower and one- handed clock . . . snaking through the early- morning vendors in Piazza San Firenze with their hoarse voices smelling of lampredotto and roasted olives. Crossing before the Bargello, I cut west toward the spire of the Badia and come up hard against the iron gate at the base of the stairs.
Here all hesitation must be left behind.
I turn the handle and step into the passage from which I know there will be no return. I urge my leaden legs up the narrow staircase . . . spiraling skyward on soft marble treads, pitted and worn.
The voices echo from below. Beseeching.
They are behind me, unyielding, closing in.
They do not understand what is coming . . . nor what I have done for them!
Ungrateful land!
As I climb, the visions come hard . . . the lustful bodies writhing in fiery rain, the gluttonous souls floating in excrement, the treacherous villains frozen in Satan's icy grasp.
I climb the final stairs and arrive at the top, staggering near dead into the damp morning air. I rush to the head- high wall, peering through the slits. Far below is the blessed city that I have made my sanctuary from those who exiled me.
The voices call out, arriving close behind me. "What you've done is madness!"
Madness breeds madness.
"For the love of God," they shout, "tell us where you've hidden it!"
For precisely the love of God, I will not.
I stand now, cornered, my back to the cold stone. They stare deep into my clear green eyes, and their expressions darken, no longer cajoling, but threatening. "You know we have our methods. We can force you to tell us where it is."
For that reason, I have climbed halfway to heaven.
Without warning, I turn and reach up, curling my fingers onto the high ledge, pulling myself up, scrambling onto my knees, then standing. . . unsteady at the precipice. Guide me, dear Virgil, across the void.
They rush forward in disbelief, wanting to grab at my feet, but fearing they will upset my balance and knock me off. They beg now, in quiet desperation, but I have turned my back. I know what I must do.
Beneath me, dizzyingly far beneath me, the red tile roofs spread out like a sea of fire on the countryside, illuminating the fair land upon which giants once roamed . . . Giotto, Donatello, Brunelleschi, Michelangelo, Botticelli.
I inch my toes to the edge.
"Come down!" they shout. "It's not too late!"
O, willful ignorants! Do you not see the future? Do you not grasp the splendor of my creation? The necessity?
I will gladly make this ultimate sacrifice . . . and with it I will extinguish your final hope of finding what you seek.
You will never locate it in time.
Hundreds of feet below, the cobblestone piazza beckons like a tranquil oasis. How I long for more time . . . but time is the one commodity even my vast fortunes cannot afford.
In these final seconds, I gaze down at the piazza, and I behold a sight that startles me.
I see your face.
You are gazing up at me from the shadows. Your eyes are mournful, and yet in them I sense a veneration for what I have accomplished. You understand I have no choice. For the love of Mankind, I must protect my masterpiece.
It grows even now . . . waiting . . . simmering beneath the bloodred waters of the lagoon that reflects no stars.
And so, I lift my eyes from yours and I contemplate the horizon. High above this burdened world, I make my final supplication.
Dearest God, I pray the world remembers my name not as a monstrous sinner, but as the glorious savior you know I truly am. I pray Mankind will understand the gift I leave behind.
My gift is the future.
My gift is salvation.
My gift is Inferno.
With that, I whisper my amen . . . and take my final step, into the abyss.
Chapter 1
The memories materialized slowly . . . like bubbles surfacing from the darkness of a bottomless well.
A veiled woman.
Robert Langdon gazed at her across a river whose churning waters ran red with blood. On the far bank, the woman stood facing him, motionless, solemn, her face hidden by a shroud. In her hand she gripped a blue tainia cloth, which she now raised in honor of the sea of corpses at her feet. The smell of death hung everywhere.
Seek, the woman whispered. And ye shall find.
Langdon heard the words as if she had spoken them inside his head. "Who are you?" he called out, but his voice made no sound.
Time grows short, she whispered. Seek and find.
Langdon took a step toward the river, but he could see the waters were bloodred and too deep to traverse. When Langdon raised his eyes again to the veiled woman, the bodies at her feet had multiplied. There were hundreds of them now, maybe thousands, some still alive, writhing in agony, dying unthinkable deaths . . . consumed by fire, buried in feces, devouring one another. He could hear the mournful cries of human suffering e
"NCIS")患有嚴重的“與異性交往障礙癥”,有異性在場的時候他就無法說話,隻有在喝醉以後纔能自在地與女孩交流。
評分精裝版,字體很大,紙張是典型的環保紙,很輕。
評分?”“智慧極高,隻是對敵經驗卻有嫌不足。”“哼!”硃翠情不自禁地挑瞭一下細細蛾眉,卻微微一笑道:“你太過奬瞭,還沒請教你貴姓,我聽說船上人稱呼你為水先生,我想這也許並不是你的本姓吧!那麼我應該稱呼你是……”“水先生。”“好吧,水先生就水先生吧!”硃翠道:“關於小婢新風的……”“她現在仍在昏迷之中?”硃翠點點頭。“公主可曾暫時點瞭她的穴道?閉住瞭她的穴路,以免毒氣攻心?”“我已經這麼做瞭。”“這就對瞭!”水先生緩緩
評分丹布朗之作,大師經典,值得收藏
評分“火星生命發現者”的稱號失之交臂),其實Howard不過是個喜歡拿一些過時的手段把妹的傢夥,很多時候他的把妹手法都讓對方感到惡心。來自印度的
評分在2013年5月14日推齣他的第六部長篇小說《地獄》(Inferno)。
評分有些輕,感覺紙質一般,但是這個價格還是可以的啦
評分丹布朗的最新力作《地獄》終於韆呼萬喚始齣來,該書一上架就成為歐美地區各大書店的暢銷書。加拿大連鎖書店Indigo的采購副經理巴哈姆 奧法提說:“丹布朗的這部新作首日銷量已經超過瞭他之前的幾部作品,潛力無窮。”英國頭號連鎖書店沃特斯通的虛構類采購經理剋裏斯 懷特說:“這應該是今年最旺銷和最暢銷的小說――很難看到還有哪一本能打敗它。從現在開始的整個夏天,它一定會極為暢銷,然後在聖誕節迎來另一個高峰。”據《地獄》的美國齣版商雙日齣版公司透露,該書的首印數達到400萬冊。
評分書很不錯的,喜歡
本站所有內容均為互聯網搜尋引擎提供的公開搜索信息,本站不存儲任何數據與內容,任何內容與數據均與本站無關,如有需要請聯繫相關搜索引擎包括但不限於百度,google,bing,sogou 等
© 2025 book.qciss.net All Rights Reserved. 圖書大百科 版權所有