Inferno: (Robert Langdon Book 4)

quickly pointed out the fusion of symbols in the massive apse, most notably the Virgin and Child gazing down upon a mihrab —the semicircular niche in a mosque that indicates the direction of Mecca. Nearby, a staircase rose up to an orator’s pulpit, which resembled the kind from which Christian sermons are delivered, but in fact was a minbar , the holy platform from which an imam leads Friday services. Similarly, the daislike structure nearby resembled a Christian choir stall but in reality was a müezzin mahfili , a raised platform where a muezzin kneels and chants in response to the imam’s prayers.
    “Mosques and cathedrals are startlingly similar,” Mirsat proclaimed. “The traditions of East and West are not as divergent as you might think!”
    “Mirsat?” Brüder pressed, sounding impatient. “We’d really like to see Dandolo’s tomb, if we may?”
    Mirsat looked mildly annoyed, as if the man’s haste were somehow a display of disrespect to the building.
    “Yes,” Langdon said. “I’m sorry to rush, but we’re on a very tight schedule.”
    “Very well, then,” Mirsat said, pointing to a high balcony to their right. “Let’s head upstairs and see the tomb.”
    “Up?” Langdon replied, startled. “Isn’t Enrico Dandolo buried down in the crypt?” Langdon recalled the tomb itself, but not the precise place in the building where it was located. He had been picturing the dark underground areas of the building.
    Mirsat seemed confounded by the query. “No, Professor, the tomb of Enrico Dandolo is most certainly upstairs.”

    What the devil is going on here? Mirsat wondered.
    When Langdon had asked to see Dandolo’s tomb, Mirsat had sensed that the request was a kind of decoy. Nobody wants to see Dandolo’s tomb. Mirsat had assumed what Langdon really wanted to see was the enigmatic treasure directly beside Dandolo’s tomb—the Deesis Mosaic —an ancient Pantocrator Christ that was arguably one of the most mysterious pieces of art in the building.
    Langdon is researching the mosaic, and trying to be discreet about it , Mirsat had guessed, imagining that the professor was probably writing a secret piece on the Deesis .
    Now, however, Mirsat was confused. Certainly Langdon knew the Deesis Mosaic was on the second floor, so why was he acting so surprised?
    Unless he is indeed looking for Dandolo’s tomb?
    Puzzled, Mirsat guided them toward the staircase, passing one of Hagia Sophia’s two famous urns—a 330-gallon behemoth carved out of a single piece of marble during the Hellenistic period.
    Climbing in silence now with his entourage, Mirsat found himself feeling unsettled. Langdon’s colleagues did not seem like academics at all. One of them looked like a soldier of some sort, muscular and rigid, dressed all in black. And the woman with the silver hair, Mirsat sensed … he had seen her before. Maybe on television?
    He was starting to suspect that the purpose of this visit was not what it appeared to be. Why are they really here?
    “One more flight,” Mirsat announced cheerily as they reached the landing. “Upstairs we shall find the tomb of Enrico Dandolo, and of course”—he paused, eyeing Langdon—“the famed Deesis Mosaic .”
    Not even a flinch.
    Langdon, it appeared, was not, in fact, here for the Deesis Mosaic at all. He and his guests seemed inexplicably fixated on Dandolo’s tomb.

CHAPTER 89
    AS MIRSAT LED the way up the stairs, Langdon could tell that Brüder and Sinskey were worried. Admittedly, ascending to the second floor seemed to make no sense. Langdon kept picturing Zobrist’s subterranean video … and the documentary film about the submerged areas beneath Hagia Sophia.
    We need to go down!
    Even so, if this was the location of Dandolo’s tomb, they had no choice but to follow Zobrist’s directions. Kneel within the gilded mouseion of holy wisdom, and place thine ear to the ground, listening for the sounds of trickling water.
    When they finally reached the second level, Mirsat led them to the right along the balcony’s edge, which offered breathtaking views of the sanctuary below. Langdon faced front, remaining focused.
    Mirsat was talking fervently about the Deesis Mosaic again, but Langdon tuned him out.
    He could now see his target.
    Dandolo’s tomb.
    The tomb appeared exactly as Langdon remembered it—a rectangular piece of white marble, inlaid in the polished stone floor and cordoned off by stanchions and chains.
    Langdon rushed over and