the Priory? Langdon felt certain the modern Church did not murder people. There had to be some
other explanation.
"Let Sophie leave," Langdon declared, staring at Leigh. "You and I should discuss this alone."
Teabing gave an unnatural laugh. "I'm afraid that is one show of faith I cannot afford. I can,
however, offer you this." He propped himself fully on his crutches, gracelessly keeping the gun
aimed at Sophie, and removed the keystone from his pocket. He swayed a bit as he held it out for
Langdon. "A token of trust, Robert."
Robert felt wary and didn't move. Leigh is giving the keystone back to us?
"Take it," Teabing said, thrusting it awkwardly toward Langdon.
Langdon could imagine only one reason Teabing would give it back. "You opened it already. You
removed the map."
Teabing was shaking his head. "Robert, if I had solved the keystone, I would have disappeared to
find the Grail myself and kept you uninvolved. No, I do not know the answer. And I can admit that
freely. A true knight learns humility in the face of the Grail. He learns to obey the signs placed
before him. When I saw you enter the abbey, I understood. You were here for a reason. To help. I
am not looking for singular glory here. I serve a far greater master than my own pride. The Truth.
Mankind deserves to know that truth. The Grail found us all, and now she is begging to be
revealed. We must work together."
Despite Teabing's pleas for cooperation and trust, his gun remained trained on Sophie as Langdon
stepped forward and accepted the cold marble cylinder. The vinegar inside gurgled as Langdon
grasped it and stepped backward. The dials were still in random order, and the cryptex remained
locked.
Langdon eyed Teabing. "How do you know I won't smash it right now?"
Teabing's laugh was an eerie chortle. "I should have realized your threat to break it in the Temple
Church was an empty one. Robert Langdon would never break the keystone. You are an historian,
Robert. You are holding the key to two thousand years of history—the lost key to the Sangreal.
You can feel the souls of all the knights burned at the stake to protect her secret. Would you have
them die in vain? No, you will vindicate them. You will join the ranks of the great men you
admire—Da Vinci, Botticelli, Newton—each of whom would have been honored to be in your
shoes right now. The contents of the keystone are crying out to us. Longing to be set free. The time
has come. Destiny has led us to this moment."
"I cannot help you, Leigh. I have no idea how to open this. I only saw Newton's tomb for a
moment. And even if I knew the password..." Langdon paused, realizing he had said too much.
"You would not tell me?" Teabing sighed. "I am disappointed and surprised, Robert, that you do
not appreciate the extent to which you are in my debt. My task would have been far simpler had
Rémy and I eliminated you both when you walked into Château Villette. Instead I risked
everything to take the nobler course."
"This is noble?" Langdon demanded, eyeing the gun.
"Saunière's fault," Teabing said. "He and his sénéchaux lied to Silas. Otherwise, I would have
obtained the keystone without complication. How was I to imagine the Grand Master would go to
such ends to deceive me and bequeath the keystone to an estranged granddaughter?" Teabing
looked at Sophie with disdain. "Someone so unqualified to hold this knowledge that she required a
symbologist baby-sitter." Teabing glanced back at Langdon. "Fortunately, Robert, your
involvement turned out to be my saving grace. Rather than the keystone remaining locked in the
depository bank forever, you extracted it and walked into my home."
Where else would I run? Langdon thought. The community of Grail historians is small, and
Teabing and I have a history together.
Teabing now looked smug. "When I learned Saunière left you a dying message, I had a pretty good
idea you were holding valuable Priory information. Whether it was the keystone itself, or
information on where to find it, I was not sure. But with the police on your heels, I had a sneaking
suspicion you might arrive on my doorstep."
Langdon glared. "And if we had not?"
"I was formulating a plan to extend you a helping hand. One way or another, the keystone was
coming to Château Villette. The fact that you delivered it into my waiting hands only serves as
proof that my cause is just."
"What!" Langdon was appalled.
"Silas was supposed to break in and steal the keystone from you in Château Villette—thus
removing you from the equation without hurting you, and exonerating me from any suspicion of
complicity. However, when I saw the intricacy of Saunière's codes, I decided to include you both in
my quest a bit longer. I could have Silas steal the keystone later, once I knew enough to carry on
alone."
"The Temple Church," Sophie said, her tone awash with betrayal.
Light begins to dawn, Teabing thought. The Temple Church was the perfect location to steal the
keystone from Robert and Sophie, and its apparent relevance to the poem made it a plausible
decoy. Rémy's orders had been clear—stay out of sight while Silas recovers the keystone.
Unfortunately, Langdon's threat to smash the keystone on the chapel floor had caused Rémy to
panic. If only Rémy had not revealed himself, Teabing thought ruefully, recalling his own mock
kidnapping. Rémy was the sole link to me, and he showed his face!
Fortunately, Silas remained unaware of Teabing's true identity and was easily fooled into taking
him from the church and then watching naively as Rémy pretended to tie their hostage in the back
of the limousine. With the soundproof divider raised, Teabing was able to phone Silas in the front
seat, use the fake French accent of the Teacher, and direct Silas to go straight to Opus Dei. A
simple anonymous tip to the police was all it would take to remove Silas from the picture.
One loose end tied up.
The other loose end was harder. Rémy.
Teabing struggled deeply with the decision, but in the end Rémy had proven himself a liability.
Every Grail quest requires sacrifice. The cleanest solution had been staring Teabing in the face
from the limousine's wet bar—a flask, some cognac, and a can of peanuts. The powder at the
bottom of the can would be more than enough to trigger Rémy's deadly allergy. When Rémy
parked the limo on Horse Guards Parade, Teabing climbed out of the back, walked to the side
passenger door, and sat in the front next to Rémy. Minutes later, Teabing got out of the car,
climbed into the rear again, cleaned up the evidence, and finally emerged to carry out the final
phase of his mission.
Westminster Abbey had been a short walk, and although Teabing's leg braces, crutches, and gun
had set off the metal detector, the rent-a-cops never knew what to do. Do we ask him to remove his
braces and crawl through? Do we frisk his deformed body? Teabing presented the flustered guards
a far easier solution—an embossed card identifying him as Knight of the Realm. The poor fellows
practically tripped over one another ushering him in.
Now, eyeing the bewildered Langdon and Neveu, Teabing resisted the urge to reveal how he had
brilliantly implicated Opus Dei in the plot that would soon bring about the demise of the entire
Church. That would have to wait. Right now there was work to do.
"Mes amis," Teabing declared in flawless French, "vous ne trouvez pas le Saint-Graal, c'est le
Saint-Graal qui vous trouve." He smiled. "Our paths together could not be more clear. The Grail
has found us."
Silence.
He spoke to them in a whisper now. "Listen. Can you hear it? The Grail is speaking to us across the
centuries. She is begging to be saved from the Priory's folly. I implore you both to recognize this
opportunity. There could not possibly be three more capable people assembled at this moment to
break the final code and open the cryptex." Teabing paused, his eyes alight. "We need to swear an
oath together. A pledge of faith to one another. A knight's allegiance to uncover the truth and make
it known."
Sophie stared deep into Teabing's eyes and spoke in a steely tone. "I will never swear an oath with
my grandfather's murderer. Except an oath that I will see you go to prison."
Teabing's heart turned grave, then resolute. "I am sorry you feel that way, mademoiselle." He
turned and aimed the gun at Langdon. "And you, Robert? Are you with me, or against me?"
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