New Moon - Stephenie Meyer [140]
“It’s the only way in,” she tried soothe me. But her voice was too strained to comfort.
The cars continued to edge forward, one car length at a time. The sun beamed down brilliantly, seeming already overhead.
The cars crept one by one toward the city. As we got closer, I could see cars parked by the side of the road with people getting out to walk the rest of the way. At first I thought it was just impatience—something I could easily understand. But then we came around a switchback, and I could see the filled parking lot outside the city wall, the crowds of people walking through the gates. No one was being allowed to drive through.
“Alice,” I whispered urgently.
“I know,” she said. Her face was chiseled from ice.
Now that I was looking, and we were crawling slowly enough to see, I could tell that it was very windy. The people crowding toward the gate gripped their hats and tugged their hair out of their faces. Their clothes billowed around them. I also noticed that the color red was everywhere. Red shirts, red hats, red flags dripping like long ribbons beside the gate, whipping in the wind—as I watched, the brilliant crimson scarf one woman had tied around her hair was caught in a sudden gust. It twisted up into the air above her, writhing like it was alive. She reached for it, jumping in the air, but it continued to flutter higher, a patch of bloody color against the dull, ancient walls.
“Bella.” Alice spoke quickly in a fierce, low voice. “I can’t see what the guard here will decide now—if this doesn’t work, you’re going to have to go in alone. You’re going to have to run. Just keep asking for the Palazzo dei Priori, and running in the direction they tell you. Don’t get lost.”
“Palazzo dei Priori, Palazzo dei Priori,” I repeated the name over and over again, trying to get it down.
“Or ‘the clock tower,’ if they speak English. I’ll go around and try to find a secluded spot somewhere behind the city where I can go over the wall.”
I nodded. “Palazzo dei Priori.”
“Edward will be under the clock tower, to the north of the square. There’s a narrow alleyway on the right, and he’ll be in the shadow there. You have to get his attention before he can move into the sun.”
I nodded furiously.
Alice was near the front of the line. A man in a navy blue uniform was directing the flow of traffic, turning the cars away from the full lot. They U-turned and headed back to find a place beside the road. Then it was Alice’s turn.
The uniformed man motioned lazily, not paying attention. Alice accelerated, edging around him and heading for the gate. He shouted something at us, but held his ground, waving frantically to keep the next car from following our bad example.
The man at the gate wore a matching uniform. As we approached him, the throngs of tourists passed, crowding the sidewalks, staring curiously at the pushy, flashy Porsche.
The guard stepped into the middle of the street. Alice angled the car carefully before she came to a full stop. The sun beat against my window, and she was in shadow. She swiftly reached behind the seat and grabbed something from her bag.
The guard came around the car with an irritated expression, and tapped on her window angrily.
She rolled the window down halfway, and I watched him do a double take when he saw the face behind the dark glass.
“I’m sorry, only tour buses allowed in the city today, miss,” he said in English, with a heavy accent. He was apologetic, now, as if he wished he had better news for the strikingly beautiful woman.
“It’s a private tour,” Alice said, flashing an alluring smile. She reached her hand out of the window, into the sunlight. I froze, until I realized she was wearing an elbow-length, tan glove. She took his hand, still raised from tapping her window, and pulled it into the car. She put something into his palm, and folded his fingers around it.
His face was dazed as he retrieved his hand and stared at the thick roll of money he now held. The outside bill was a thousand dollar bill.
“Is this a joke?” he mumbled.
Alice’s smile was blinding. “Only