The Secret of Secrets: A Novel (Robert Langdon Book 6) - 120
The Golěm stared at his clay-caked face in the mirror, knowing it was a face he would never see again. The end was near, and thankfully it was exactly the end he had imagined. I am The Golěm. My time is almost done. Having ascended safely to Gessner’s lab, he was now one level beneath Crucifix Basti...
The Golěm stared at his clay-caked face in the mirror, knowing it was a face he would never see again. The end was near, and thankfully it was exactly the end he had imagined.
I am The Golěm. My time is almost done.
Having ascended safely to Gessner’s lab, he was now one level beneath Crucifix Bastion, standing in the small laboratory bathroom.
At the sink, he studied the three Hebrew letters crudely etched on his forehead. They were faded from perspiration and dust, but the powerful ancient word still resonated.
אמת
Truth.
The Golěm had always known this moment was coming.
Truth becomes Death.
As Rabbi Judah Loew had done centuries ago to kill his earthen monster and release him from servitude, The Golěm now pressed his index finger against the thick dried clay—pushing down on the rightmost letter, aleph. Feeling a pang of loss and identity, he scraped his finger downward, chipping off the clay until the letter had vanished.
As was the ancient protocol, his forehead now bore a different word entirely.
מת
The Hebrew word for dead.
The Golěm felt no different outwardly, and yet he could feel that his inner self, his soul, his consciousness…was beginning to shift. He was preparing to detach from this borrowed body once and for all.
The Golěm had died many times, and he knew his essence would linger, but he also knew that this time was different. This time, it was his choice.
I came to this realm…so she could live.
And soon I must depart…so she can live.
Today had seen the death of many things.
The death of Threshold.
The death of Sasha’s tormenters.
And soon, the death of The Golěm himself.
Turning from the mirror, The Golěm began removing his remaining clothes. Once he was naked, he stepped into the lab’s emergency shower and turned it on.
The lukewarm water felt restorative on his weary head and shoulders.
Accepting his transformation, he lowered his eyes and watched the streaks of wet clay running down his pale flesh…long gray rivulets spiraling down the drain for the final time.