The Da Vinci Code

“You won't believe this.” Teabing glanced at Sophie. “Especially you.”

“What do you mean?” she said.

“This is… ingenious,” he whispered. “Utterly ingenious!” Teabing wrote again on the paper. “Drumroll, please. Here is your password.” He showed them what he had written.

Sh-V-P-Y-A

Sophie scowled. “What is it?”

Langdon didn't recognize it either.

Teabing's voice seemed to tremble with awe. “This, my friend, is actually an ancient word of wisdom.”

Langdon read the letters again. An ancient word of wisdom frees this scroll. An instant later he got it. He had newer seen this coming. “An ancient word of wisdom!”

Teabing was laughing. “Quite literally!”

Sophie looked at the word and then at the dial. Immediately she realized Langdon and Teabing had failed to see a serious glitch. “Hold on! This can't be the password,” she argued. “The cryptex doesn't have an Sh on the dial. It uses a traditional Roman alphabet.”

“Read the word,” Langdon urged. “Keep in mind two things. In Hebrew, the symbol for the sound Sh can also be pronounced as S, depending on the accent. Just as the letter P can be pronounced F.”

SVFYA? she thought, puzzled.

“Genius!” Teabing added. “The letter Vav is often a placeholder for the vowel sound O!”

Sophie again looked at the letters, attempting to sound them out.

“S…o…f…y…a.”

She heard the sound of her voice, and could not believe what she had just said. “Sophia? This spells Sophia?”

Langdon was nodding enthusiastically. “Yes! Sophia literally means wisdom in Greek. The root of your name, Sophie, is literally a 'word of wisdom.' “

Sophie suddenly missed her grandfather immensely. He encrypted the Priory keystone with my name. A knot caught in her throat. It all seemed so perfect. But as she turned her gaze to the five lettered dials on the cryptex, she realized a problem still existed. “But wait… the word Sophia has six letters.”

Teabing's smile never faded. “Look at the poem again. Your grandfather wrote, 'An ancient word of wisdom.' “

“Yes?”

Teabing winked. “In ancient Greek, wisdom is spelled S-O-F-I-A.”

Chapter 78

Sophie felt a wild excitement as she cradled the cryptex and began dialing in the letters. An ancient word of wisdom frees this scroll. Langdon and Teabing seemed to have stopped breathing as they looked on.

S… O… F…

“Carefully,” Teabing urged. “Ever so carefully.”

…I… A.

Sophie aligned the final dial. “Okay,” she whispered, glancing up at the others. “I'm going to pull it apart.”

“Remember the vinegar,” Langdon whispered with fearful exhilaration. “Be careful.”

Sophie knew that if this cryptex were like those she had opened in her youth, all she would need to do is grip the cylinder at both ends, just beyond the dials, and pull, applying slow, steady pressure in opposite directions. If the dials were properly aligned with the password, then one of the ends would slide off, much like a lens cap, and she could reach inside and remove the rolled papyrus document, which would be wrapped around the vial of vinegar. However, if the password they had entered were incorrect, Sophie's outward force on the ends would be transferred to a hinged lever inside, which would pivot downward into the cavity and apply pressure to the glass vial, eventually shattering it if she pulled too hard.

Pull gently, she told herself.

Teabing and Langdon both leaned in as Sophie wrapped her palms around the ends of the cylinder. In the excitement of deciphering the code word, Sophie had almost forgotten what they expected to find inside. This is the Priory keystone. According to Teabing, it contained a map to the Holy Grail, unveiling the tomb of Mary Magdalene and the Sangreal treasure… the ultimate treasure trove of secret truth.

Now gripping the stone tube, Sophie double-checked that all of the letters were properly aligned with the indicator. Then, slowly, she pulled. Nothing happened. She applied a little more force. Suddenly, the stone slid apart like a well-crafted telescope. The heavy end piece detached in her hand. Langdon and Teabing almost jumped to their feet. Sophie's heart rate climbed as she set the end cap on the table and tipped the cylinder to peer inside.

A scroll!

Peering down the hollow of the rolled paper, Sophie could see it had been wrapped around a cylindrical object—the vial of vinegar, she assumed. Strangely, though, the paper around the vinegar was not the customary delicate papyrus but rather, vellum. That's odd, she thought, vinegar can't dissolve a lambskin vellum. She looked again down the hollow of the scroll and realized the object in the center was not a vial of vinegar after all. It was something else entirely.

“What's wrong?” Teabing asked. “Pull out the scroll.”

Frowning, Sophie grabbed the rolled vellum and the object around which it was wrapped, pulling them both out of the container.

“That's not papyrus,” Teabing said. “It's too heavy.”

“I know. It's padding.”

“For what? The vial of vinegar?”

“No.” Sophie unrolled the scroll and revealed what was wrapped inside. “For this.”

When Langdon saw the object inside the sheet of vellum, his heart sank.

“God help us,” Teabing said, slumping. “Your grandfather was a pitiless architect.”

Langdon stared in amazement. I see Sauniere has no intention of making this easy.

On the table sat a second cryptex. Smaller. Made of black onyx. It had been nested within the first. Sauniere's passion for dualism. Two cryptexes. Everything in pairs. Double entendres. Male female. Black nested within white. Langdon felt the web of symbolism stretching onward. White gives birth to black.

Every man sprang from woman.

White—female.